They didn’t know what I’d seen, what I remembered. I didn’t want another situation like the one I’d had with Antones to muddle my thoughts, so I refused to step foot on the Floorboards.
I became lost in my craft, training like a madwoman—proving my peers true—and taking on women’s chores to busy my hands once my hours of physical training were complete.
Master Lukain finally broached the subject on the fourth month, after a particularly sweaty sparring session where he’d knocked the wind out of me and left me limping around with a nice backhand strike to my calf.
“Your Holdmates think you’ve cracked,” he told me, watching as I winced and sat on a chair on the other side of the small training room.
Throwing my wooden sword down, I reached for my mug of watered-down ale on the table. “Maybe they’re right.”
“Antones doesn’t think you have,” he continued, leaning against the wall across from me and folding his arms over his chest. “He says you saw something in the Above that froze you like a lost doe. Ant isn’t sure what it is. He thinks I should pry.”
I snorted. “Is that what you’re doing, Master? Prying?”
“Not if you don’t want to talk about it.” He grunted to himself. “I’m a firm believer in keeping secrets.”
My brow threaded as I glanced up at him while still catching my breath from the strenuous workout. “That’s a damned wild thing to admit, sir.”
The corner of his lip curled. He pushed himself off from the wall and started to pace the room, his eyes downcast. “I’ll take a stab then. I’m assuming you saw something from your past that riled you.”
Vicious memories filled me. I slowly nodded.
“Can I ask what emotions these recollections filled you with, little grimmer?”
I thought for a moment. Pain? Anguish? Depression? It was difficult to pinpoint. “Emptiness,” I landed on.
“Hm. Can’t have one of my best fighters feelingempty.” His eyes lifted from the rugged mat we trained on, his red orbs landing on mine. “Is it revenge you seek, Sephania?”
“I . . .” His gaze seemed to pierce through my soul. I swallowed hard, finding a lump in my throat I had to fight past. The way he looked at me, curious and allured, made my body tingle. I found myself tensing and glancing away quickly, before the familiar throb between my legs could begin. “I don’t know what I want, Master.”
There was innuendo in my words, and he knew it.Is ityouI want, Lukain? Even though I’m still so young and have no experience in matters of the flesh—novoluntaryexperience, anyway.
I shook my head, chewing the inside of my cheek. I was well and truly lost now, staring at the patterns of the mat. “I want to advance.” My voice had finality to it for the first time in months. I lifted my gaze from the ground to Lukain’s handsome face. “I want to fight for my freedom. I’m ready.”
His eyebrows jumped. “To fight adversaries at a shadowgala? To entertain the noblebloods of Olhav? You aren’t ready.”
I opened my mouth to push back—
“But you’re in luck,” he cut in, lifting a finger. “Because that was the next topic I wanted to discuss with you.”
My lips remained parted. Excitement and anticipation sputtered across my veins.
His face was wickedly smug, hiding a secret from me he knew I wanted to access. Smiling slightly, Master Lukain said, “I believe you are ready for the next stage of your training. I know another young man who is equally champing at the bit. So I will let you two duel each other to get your aggressions out.”
“When?” I breathed, jumping to my feet.
“In a fortnight.”
The past two weeks had been a blur, and now I stood in the sacred ring—the Firehold. Though we referred to the entire underground network of tunnels and rooms the Grimsons inhabited as “the Firehold,” it was really this room that deserved the name.
The chamber where you were tested, feet to the fire. The place where months and years of training led you, gifting you the opportunity to speak your truth through action. The outcome would only be decided by your own grit, mettle, and perseverance.
I had become more religious and awed by the Firehold than I ever was about the Truehearts or the House of the Broken. Part of it was the mythical quality of this room—I had never been in here because only active fighters were allowed.
Today was my day of activation. I had been part of Master Lukain’s Grimsons for almost a year and a half, and I had finally crested the first ledge of the mountain.
From here, if things went well, would be the summit of the mountain: Olhav and the shadowgalas. That was where I wouldbegin to fight for the entertainment of the vampires and for the chance at freedom from my chains.
First, I had to get through Culiar.
