The Unforgiving Moon

66.

Two days had passed since Aven had taken me to the dungeons. He'd told me I could rest for now, let my powers ease, while we waited for other death-row prisoners to arrive from other cities than Rahas.

At the very least, he wouldn't make me kill anyone undeserving.

Aven also didn't bother me with other training sessions. And I had no release at all for all this energy building up within me—so I'd taken to training daily with Feytan and Lotta. I found them in the training area each morning, and joined them for most exercises.

I couldn't quite follow their entire routines—but I recovered quickly, and just like yesterday, this evening I had found myself training again.

I threw punch after punch at a straw mannequin, trying to remember Feytan's voice in my head, telling me how to tense my core, to keep my back straight, my elbows locked.

My knuckles were bleeding, but just like yesterday, there wouldn't be a trace of it left by the time I reached the Manor.

I kept throwing my body into it, testing my limits until I nearly fainted, until I walked home on shaking legs. In the evening, the training grounds were mostly empty.

"I was wondering when I'd run into you," Shanza suddenly said, as I turned the last corner and the Manor came into view.

She sat perched on a small wall, one knee drawn to her chest. Her dark hair flowed down her shoulders, and her face wore a playful expression. Her features were as sharp as Aven's—though different entirely.

She dropped down the wall and slowly stepped in my direction. "I heard my dear brother took you to the dungeons recently."

I raised my chin. "I had to assist in the interrogation of a Fire Moon spy," I lied. I hoped my heart didn't expose me.

Shanza giggled, and if sounds had colors, hers would be dark. "Then how did three prisoners end up dead?"

My nostrils flared. "Shouldn't you ask your Alpha? How am I to know?"

And then I felt the tangles of her powers tease me, brush against my skin, and edge dangerously close to my heart. "You told us you hadn't stolen anything," she mused. "We were right not to believe you. My mother died because of your lies."

A dark wall shot up in me, and Shanza didn't seem even remotely surprised at the friction she was now dancing against. "Your mother died because she betrayed Aven. She deserved everything she got."

Fire danced in Shanza's eyes, but I was sure it danced in mine, too.

"As do you," she crooned, her head tilted slightly and her eyes glimmering with marvel—and deadly intent.

Her powers retreated shortly after—but I didn't draw mine back in. The murder in her eyes told me all I needed to know; we hadn't stopped playing.

"Aven's gotten much too soft for you these days," she sighed. "It's a terrible shame, truly. He shouldn't leave his valuable possessions out there all alone, and vulnerable. You never know who might be out for revenge."

"I'm not vulnerable," I growled.

Shanza huffed. "Oh, I know just how powerful you are. Your little secret is not as hidden as you would like it to be. But I also know how untrained you are—and how you still pride yourself on your moral superiority. That makes me the deadliest out of the two of us."

My eyes turned to slits, and the darkness swelled in my blood. I let them—let them do whatever the fuck they felt like.

"You know why Aven will never make you as powerful as you could be? Why his training will never be fully effective?" she continued, her voice as sweetly as it was terrible and brooding. "Because he refuses to risk your life. I have no such qualms."