The Hidden Mark

The Gauntlet

I will not die today.

-Violet Sorrengail's Personal Addendum
To The Book of Brennan

She is so completely screwed.

Xaden steps forward—all six-foot-everything of him—dressed in midnight fighting leathers and a tight-fitted short-sleeve shirt that only seems to make the shimmering, dark rebellion relics on his skin seem like an even bigger warning, which I know is ridiculous but somehow true.

My heartbeat kicks up to a full gallop, as if my body knows the truth my mind hasn't quite accepted yet. I'm about to watch Violet get her ass kicked...or worse.

"You are all in for a treat," Professor Emetterio says, clapping his hands. "Xaden's one of the best fighters we have. Watch and learn."

"Of course you are," I mutter, my stomach twisting like I'm the one who's been snacking on walwyn fruit peels.

A corner of Xaden's mouth rises in a smirk, and the gold flecks in his eyes seem to dance. The sadistic ass is enjoying this.

I had Violet's knees, ankles, and wrist wrapped up, the white cloth protecting her healing thumb a startling contrast against the black leathers.

"A little out of her league, don't you think?" Dain argues from the side of the mat, tension radiating from every word.

"Relax, Aetos." Xaden looks over her shoulder, his gaze hardening toward where Dain is standing, where he always stands when Violet is on the mat. The look Xaden gives him makes me realize he's been taking it easy on me in the glaring department. "She'll be in one piece when I'm finished teaching her."

"I hardly think it's fair—" Dain's voice rises.

"No one asked you to think, squad leader," Xaden fires back as he moves to the side, discarding every weapon on his body—and there's a lot of them—and handing them to Imogen.

The bitter, illogical taste of jealousy fills my mouth, but there's no time to examine that particular oddity, not when there're only seconds before he's in front of Violet again.

"You don't think you'll need those?" she asks, palming her blades. His chest is massive, with wide shoulders and heavily muscled arms alongside. A target that big should be easy to hit.

"Nope. Not when you brought enough for the both of us." A wicked smile curves his mouth as he stretches out his hand and curls his fingers in a come-hither motion. "Let's go."

My heart beats faster than the wings of a hummingbird as I watch Violet take her fighting stance and wait for him to strike. This mat is only twenty feet in either direction, and yet my entire world narrows to its confines and the danger within.

He's not in her squad. He can kill her without punishment.

I watch Violet fling a dagger straight at his ridiculously well-sculpted chest.

He fucking catches it and clucks his tongue. "Already seen that move."

Holy shit is he fast.

She has to move faster. It's the single advantage she might have—that's my only thought as I watch her move forward in a swipe-and-kick combo Rhianna and I drilled into her over the past six weeks. He artfully dodges the blade and then captures her leg. The earth spins and she gets slammed onto her back, the sudden impact driving the air out of her lungs.

But he doesn't go for the kill. Instead, he drops the dagger he's caught and kicks it off the mat towards me, and a second later, when air squeaks back into her lungs, lunging up with the next blade, going for his thigh.