Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
…
February flies by in a blur of exhaustion. Xaden takes every unscheduled moment of my day, and Dain’s gritted his teeth more than once when the wingleader has pulled me out of squad training because he has something infinitely more important for me to do.
Which usually ends with me getting my ass handed to me repeatedly on the mat.
But I have to say, he doesn’t baby me like Dain, and he doesn’t take it easy on me like Rhiannon does. He pushes me to my physical limit every session but never further, usually leaving me a boneless, sweaty heap on the sparring gym floor, gasping for breath.
That’s usually when Imogen reminds me that I’m needed in the weight room.
I hate them both.
Kind of.
It’s hard to argue with the results when I’m learning to take down the strongest fighter in the quadrant. I have yet to beat him, but I’m all right with that. It means he doesn’t let me win.
He also doesn’t kiss me again, even when I push.
March arrives with uncountable feet of snow that have to be shoveled before morning formation every day. And the moments the relic burns in my back and I feel like I might crawl out of my own skin if the power building within me doesn’t release reminds me that I still don’t have a signet. It’s already almost been three months.
Every morning I wake up wondering if today is the day I’ll spontaneously combust.
“Sharla Gunter,” Captain Fitzgibbons reads from the death roll, his gloved hands slipping on the frozen parchment. It’s warmer this week, but not by much. “And Mushin Vedie. We commend their souls to Malek.”
“Vedie?” I ask Rhiannon, my eyebrows shooting up as formation ends. I didn’t know him well, since he was in Second Wing, but the name is still a shock, considering he was rumored to be one of the best among us.
“You didn’t hear?” She pulls her fur-lined cloak closer around her neck. “His signet manifested in the middle of Carr’s class yesterday, and he burst into flames.”
“He…burned himself to death?”
She nods. “Tara said Carr thinks he was supposed to be able to wield fire, but it just overwhelmed him in that first rush and…”
“He went up like a torch,” Ridoc adds. “Kind of makes you glad your signet’s still hiding, huh?”
“Hiding is one way to put it.” Other than the ability I’m not supposed to even whisper about, I’m proving to be the one thing my mother hates—average. And it’s not as though I can go to Tairn or Andarna for help. The signet is all about me, and I’m apparently not delivering, as the stinging relic on my back constantly reminds me. There’s a tiny, secret part of me that hopes my signet hasn’t manifested yet because it’s different than the others, not only useful but…meaningful, like Brennan’s was.
“Definitely makes me want to skip class today,” Rhiannon mutters, blowing on her hands to keep them warm.
“No skipping class,” Dain admonishes, pinning us with a stare. “We’re weeks away from the Squad Battle and we need every single one of you at your best to win.”
Imogen snorts. “Come on, Aetos, I think we all know Second Wing has that squad in Tail Section that’s going to smoke the rest of us. Have you ever seen them sprint up the Gauntlet? Pretty sure they’ve been out there even though it’s still covered in ice.”
“We’re going to win,” Cianna, our executive officer, proclaims with a decisive nod. “Sorrengail here might slow us down on the Gauntlet”—she wrinkles her hawkish nose—“and probably in the wielding department, too, at the rate she’s advancing—”
“Gee, thanks.” I fold my arms across my chest. Bet I can shield better than all of them combined.
“But Rhiannon’s skills more than make up for that,” Cianna continues. “And we all know Liam and Heaton are both going to decimate on the mat for the challenge competition. That only leaves flight maneuvers and whatever task the wingleaders come up with to judge this year.”
“Oh, is that all? Man, I thought it was going to be hard.” The sarcasm rolling off Ridoc is thick enough to earn him a glare from Dain.
“We’re down to ten of you,” Dain says, glancing over our group. “Twelve of us in total, which puts us at a slight disadvantage against a couple other squads, but I think we’ll manage.”
We lost two of the new additions last week when the smaller one’s signet manifested in Battle Brief and they both froze to death in seconds, nearly taking out Ridoc with the exposure, too. He was treated for frostbite but didn’t have any permanent damage. Now Nadine and Liam are the only ones left from the batch we acquired after Threshing.
“But in order to manage, I need you guys to get to class.” He lifts his brows at me. “Especially you. A signet would be great, you know. If you can maybe make that happen.” It’s as if he can’t decide how to treat me lately, as the first-year who’s struggling but still here or the girl he grew up with.