The headmaster scanned us for a moment, and then continued. “Starting this evening, our instructors will perform assessments of your baseline ability levels. Once that is complete, we will begin the official class roster. The bulletin board outside the coliseum has the schedule for these assessments. The written component will be held at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon, in the breakout rooms just past this coliseum. You may use the remainder of the time to familiarize yourself with the academy. We will also be holding mandatory group runs in the mornings tomorrow and the day following.”
I noticed several students fidgeting. I wasn’t the only one nervous about being evaluated. Someone put up their hand. When Amadeus acknowledged him, he asked, “What kind of testing will they be doing?”
“You will be assessed based on your special ability, whether you are talented or a shifter, on your fighting experience, your weapons proficiency, and the written evaluation to determine your knowledge of realm politics.”
Now I was really nervous, and the questioner had gone rather pale. I remembered mine and Cara’s trip to the woods—did that mean I’d already completed one part of it?
Amadeus nodded to where Cody stood nearby. “Our head fighting instructor will demonstrate for you this afternoon. In his capacity as a council enforcer, he has proven himself very capable of hand-to-hand combat. He will harness those skills and teach them to each of you.”
Amadeus scanned the group and then gestured to the upper level, back near the elevator. “Upon exiting, your admittance forms will need to be signed. And you will select your workout apparel and manuals.”
I’ll give him credit—he had the entire place riveted on him. Or perhaps it was an indication of just how badly this group wanted to succeed.
The headmaster gestured to Cody. “I cede the floor to our instructor.”
Cody nodded respectfully to Amadeus, although I noticed he never actually looked at him. The Sabre was dressed in black sweats and a matching tee shirt that hugged his muscular frame. His eyes scanned the crowd and fastened on Matt.
“Matt, could you come down here? Your cage fighting experience should provide the group a good demo.”
My Dire friend’s eyes widened, but he nodded and pushed past the Dragonshifter to descend the stairs. Meanwhile, Cody stripped off his tee shirt and stood waiting in the arena.
I’m afraid I gaped. He was stunning. Ripped every way imaginable. This place was loaded with more muscle than I’d seen in the last year, for sure. Maybe in my entire life, if only I could remember it.
“Cody lookssogood without his shirt,” Kitani purred. When I glanced at her, she waggled her eyebrows at me. “There are fringe benefits to watching him fight.”
I grinned and returned my gaze to the arena. Just in time to watch Matt pull his tee shirt over his head.
My breath left me in a rush. I’d seen his stunning nakedness before, of course. Just this morning, in fact. But apparently, it hadn’t lost any of its impact.
As he met and matched Cody’s stare, the haunted look fled from his eyes and was replaced with the glint of anticipation.
It was echoed by excited whispers among the crowd as the two men began to circle each other. Cody had a couple of inches on Matt, and his bones were heavier, but they were built very similarly.
“No claws,” Cody told Matt. “We’ll do this the boring old human way.”
Claws. The Sabre’s body was covered in scars. Mostly on his arms, but also on his torso. As they circled, I noticed, again, those covering Matt’s smooth skin. Most consisted of four parallel lines—claw marks. But there were some over his shoulders and back that looked different. Broader, and single strokes, overlapping.
I wasn’t the only one examining them. Kitani hissed low under her breath. “Those aren’t claw marks.”
I glanced at her. “What would make them?”
She shook her head. “I’d say he was beaten. Too broad for a whip. Maybe a belt?” The Sabre kept her voice so low I could hardly hear her.
Someone had beaten Matt with a belt? “Do they allow that in cage fighting?”
The Sabre met my gaze, and her lips twisted. “He didn’t get those cage fighting.”
The scars did look old, with many claw marks scored over top of them. But my stomach twisted—fighting was different from being beaten.
“Cody and he might have more in common than they know.” The words were almost whispered, Kitani jiggling her daughter gently while staring at the two circling shifters.
What was she implying? I swallowed and kept my focus on the two shifters. Their movements as they measured each other up were fluid and graceful. Like the predators they were.
“Ooo, this is going to be good.” Kitani’s eyes were pure gold with her beast. “You can tell Matt’s a fighter.”
It was true. Their eyes roamed up and down each other’s bodies, as though assessing every move for weaknesses. My eyes kept gravitating to Matt. Or rather, to that body.
“Matt is not afraid.” Mari’s voice indicated puzzlement.
