When It Reigns (Cursed Reigns, #1)

CHAPTER NINE

AERYN'S POV

Zoran stepped back and hitched a dark brow as I gawked at him. I clenched my hands, sporting a sour frown as I refrained the urge to knock the arrogant shifter flat on his ass – if I could even take down the massive, broad-shouldered, muscular Draconian who'd killed sixty-two demons on his own in the span of a few hours.

I altered my attention back on Instructor Bayer, ignoring my pounding heart and the smug look flittering across Zoran's face. Bayer scanned the group and wrote each pair of students in a bracket, then asked which partner had won the match, placing the winner in the next bracket. Nyaxia rolled her eyes when a line struck through her last name.

We waited until each pair had finished, then Bayer instructed, "Alright. Find your mats and commence the fight. Seeing as none of you managed a knockout in the first round, I will assume you are not fighting hard enough. We are in the middle of a war. You need to be able to fight and defend yourself. Those of you hoping to become Champions in the Force need to step it up."

With that, he gestured at the mats and shooed us away.

Taking the center mat, I snatched my discarded dagger and throwing stars from the floor and grabbed a towel off the rack against the wall of weapons. I dried the surface of the black mat and bit my lip, recalling my enraged father as he arrested Bastion.

Bastion. My best friend. A spy.

His own mother had removed him from the premises as if she despised him.

I scrubbed the mat with increased vigor, anger heating my veins as I thought about Bastion. How could he be convening with the Ravos demons? He knew how evil they were. He knew they'd killed my mother. He knew they'd tried to overthrow the empire and were corrupt, immoral demons who'd stop at nothing to get what they wanted. He knew they were killing off our dwindling forces and ransacking our defenseless villages.

He knew the demon prince was planning to kill me.

And he was working with them to carry it out.

But then why did he warn me about the assassination? I banished the sliver of hope and tossed the towel aside, wiping my gloved hands on my trousers as I stood to face Zoran.

Running a gloved hand through the hair between his horns, Zoran slicked back the sweat-soaked strands and held out his other hand. I glanced at the light blue Insignia of a tornado swirling with icicles on the palm of his hand and shook it. The ice wielder's hand engulfed mine and his rough callouses pressed against my hand as he gave it a firm squeeze, signaling the start of the match.

"Why are you keeping that glove on?" I asked, flicking my head at the power-blocking glove.

"So I don't kill you."

I pursed my lips. "I don't need you to handicap yourse-"

A spear of ice whizzed by my ear, and nicked the cartilage with its cold sting, making me flinch. Warm liquid trailed down my neck, outer ear burning from the small cut as I withdrew my dagger. Zoran lifted his hand, illuminating his face in a blue glow as he blew into his open palm. A haze of frost blasted across the mat and enveloped me in its glacial embrace, freezing my eyelashes and tangling my hair with cubes of ice. Wracked by terrorizing shivers, I raised my dagger as an intense chill flowed in my veins and rattled my bones. My teeth chattered as I took a painstaking step toward my opponent, trying to steady my quaking arm and quivering legs.

Zoran's dark green eyes tracked my minimal movement and he clapped his hands, sending another shockwave of extreme cold at me. The explosion hit me in the chest, throwing me off my feet as it stole my breath. My back slammed against the mat, and I lost my hold on the dagger as the back of my head smacked the wooden floor. Dark spots obscured my vision as my head spun, and pain ricocheted down my spine. My entire body was stiff as ice crystalized on the steel toes of my boots and climbed up my ankles, rapidly forming up my calves and thighs. Immobilized, I squeezed my eyes shut as a flurry of thin ice shards rained down on me and pinned my clothes to the mat.