Linard followed me out of the common room, keeping a discreet distance. It reminded me of the day I’d bought the spirit boats that Caleb and I had released into the sea. The memory tugged at my heart and worsened my foul mood. I was like a zombie in the rest of my classes. After a quick change into my training clothes, I walked into Gutter Fighting. Instructor Romvi looked absurdly pleased with my appearance.

I dropped my bag and leaned against the wall, pretending that I wasn’t bothered by the fact that I had no one to talk to. The last time I’d even been in this class, Caleb had still been alive.

Pressing my lips together, I let my gaze roam over the wall where the weapons were kept. I’d grown so used to this room during my practices with Aiden that it was like home to me. Standing near the wall of things meant to kill daimons with, Jackson grinned at something another half-blood said. Then he looked straight at me and smirked.

Once upon a time I’d found him hot, but somewhere between my daimon mom murdering his girlfriend’s parents—if he was actually still with Lea—and the last time I squared off with him, I’d stopped thinking so highly of him.

I held his stare until he looked away. Then I continued my perusal. Olivia stood next to Luke, tying her curly hair into a ponytail. Bruises marked the caramel-colored skin of her neck. I glanced down at my hands. I’d done that.

Gods, what had I been thinking? Guilt and shame tore through me. When I looked up, Luke was watching me. His stare wasn’t hostile or anything just… sad.

I looked away, chewing on my lip. I did miss my friends. And I really missed Caleb.

Class quickly began, and even though I was tired, I threw myself into it. I got paired with Elena for a series of cinch work and holds. Going through the various techniques, my brain was finally able to shut down. Here, in training, I didn’t think of anything. There was no sorrow or loss, no fate to deal with or father to save. I imagined this was what being a Sentinel would be like. When I’d eventually go out hunting, I wouldn’t have to think about anything other than locating daimons and killing them. Maybe that was the real reason behind wanting to be a Sentinel, because then I could go through life… and do what? Kill. Kill. And kill some more.

That wasn’t what I really wanted, deep down inside. I was just realizing that now?

Even slow on my feet, I was a bit faster than Elena. When we moved into take-downs and reversals, which consisted of getting thrown down and trying to get out of it, I was able to keep her pinned, but I was slowing down, growing weary.

She broke my hold and tipped her hips, rolling me onto my back. Staring down at me, she frowned. “Are… are you feeling okay? You look really pale.”

I really needed to Google how long the lingering effects of a cold lasted, because this was seriously getting annoying. All I wanted was a bed. Before I could respond to Elena’s question, Instructor Romvi appeared behind us. I bit back a groan.

“If you’re able to talk, perhaps you are not training hard enough.” Romvi’s pale eyes were like glaciers. He loved to terrorize me in class; I’m sure he’d missed me. “Elena, off the mats.”

She stood and slinked off, leaving me with the Instructor. Around us, students were sparring. I rolled to my feet and shifted my weight restlessly, preparing myself mentally for whatever he was going to throw at me. I turned away, placing my hands on my hips.

His hand smacked down on my shoulder. “One should never turn their back in war.”

Shrugging his grip off, I faced him. “I didn’t realize we were at war.”

Something gleamed in his eyes. “We are always at war, especially in my class.” He looked down his hawkish nose at me, which was a common practice since he was a pure-blood who’d once been a Sentinel. “Speaking of which, it is nice of you to finally join us, Alexandria. I was beginning to believe you thought training was no longer necessary.”

Several responses rolled to the tip of my tongue, but I knew better than to let them out.

He looked disappointed. “I heard that you fought during the daimon siege.”

Knowing fewer words usually ended with less of my butt being kicked, I nodded while I pictured a pegasus landing on his head and biting him in the neck.

“You also fought the furies and survived. Only warriors could claim such a feat.”

My gaze slid past him to where Olivia and Luke now stood watching me from the edge of the mats. How many times had we been in this position? But this was different, because Caleb used to be among them.

“Alexandria?”

I focused on him, mentally cringing. I should never take my eyes off Romvi when he was talking. “I did fight the furies.”

Interest sparked in his eyes. “Show me what you did.”

Caught off-guard, I took a step back. “What do you mean?”

A small smile tugged up one side of his lips. “Show me how you fought the furies.”

I dampened my lips nervously. I had no idea how I’d fought the furies and survived—only that everything had turned amber, like someone had splashed the tawny color over my eyes. “I don’t know. Everything was happening so fast.”

“You don’t know.” He raised his hand and the sleeve of his tunic-style shirt slipped up his arm, revealing the downward-turned torch tattoo. “I find that hard to believe.”

I experienced a momentary lapse of sanity. “What’s up with the tattoo?”

His jaw clenched, and I expected him to attack. But he didn’t. “Jackson!”

Loping onto the mats, Jackson came to stop and rested his hands on his narrow hips. “Sir?”

Romvi’s eyes held mine. “I want you to spar.”

I glanced at Jackson’s smiling face. What Romvi wanted me to do was show him how I’d fought the furies and survived, using Jackson to do so. It didn’t matter who I was fighting; I couldn’t show what I didn’t know.

As Romvi headed off the mats, he stopped and whispered to Jackson. Whatever he was saying brought an easy grin to Jackson’s face right before he nodded.

Wiping my hand over my clammy forehead, I slowed down my breathing and tried to ignore the fine tremors running through my legs. Even tired I could take Jackson. He was a good fighter, but I was better. I had tobe better.

“You’re going to be hurting by the end of class,” Jackson taunted, cracking his knuckles.

I raised a brow and motioned him forward with one hand. I may’ve have a serious hankering for a pillow, but I could take him.

I waited until he was only a foot away before I launched a brutal offensive. I was fast and light on my feet. He would feint in one direction to avoid a sharp thrust and end up with a sideways kick in his back. Before long, he ended up on his back, panting and swearing from a fierce spin kick.

“I’m going to be hurting?” I said, standing above him. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

Breathing harshly, he jumped onto the balls of his feet. “Wait and see, baby.”

“Baby?” I repeated. “I’m not your baby.”

Jackson didn’t respond to that. He flew into a butterfly kick, which I dodged. Those kicks were brutal. Blow after blow, we went after each other—each hit more vicious then the last. Admittedly, I was taking this a little too seriously myself. I wasn’t going easy on the douchebag. A weird kind of darkness rose in me as I blocked a series of kicks and jabs that would have brought even Aiden down. I grinned in spite of the sweat pouring off me and the way my forearms ached. I channeled all of my earlier anger into fighting Jackson.

Our sparring eventually drew the attention of the other students. I was only slightly surprised when Jackson’s fist glanced off my jaw and Instructor Romvi didn’t call the fight off. If anything, he looked like he was getting his jollies off by watching the brutal fight.

So Jackson didn’t want to play by the rules and Romvi didn’t care? Whatever. He swung his fist around again, but this time I caught his hand and twisted it backward.