THE HEIR OF STORMS | Garrick Tavis

Chapter 5

A week later, I found myself back in the infirmary.

It must have been past two in the morning, but lying on the cold infirmary bed, it was difficult to fall back asleep. I stared at the cold stone ceiling above me, my thoughts as heavy as my aching body. Again. I should have been used to this by now, or at least resigned to it, but frustration boiled in my chest. The pain throbbed in every muscle, every bruised rib, but nothing hurt more than my wounded pride.

You're the one causing this pain to yourself, my conscience hammered in the back of my mind. And it was right. But I was afraid, and the fear was much greater than any pain I could endure. I was frustrated for feeling fear, of course, but making any decision at that moment was difficult. Alone. I was feeling more alone than I had ever felt.

I took a breath, and my breathing was short, controlled, each inhale seeming like a greater effort than the last. I closed my eyes and saw myself on the mat, the sound of the other cadets' muffled laughter still echoing in my ears. No one had lifted me off the mat this time — actually, I didn't remember seeing the Section Leader that day.

I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the pain in my ribs made me let out a groan. Coward. That thought haunted me, chased me like a shadow I couldn't shake.

Gods, I needed to get out of that place. The infirmary gave me more self-pity than a thousand beatings to the face.

I shouldn't leave the infirmary, but lying there in bed, waiting for the pain to pass, was not an option. I got up and staggered to the door, moving slowly through the deserted corridors, struggling to ignore the lingering pain.

I was almost turning the corner to the dormitory when I saw something move in the darkness, and I stopped immediately, squinting. If anyone saw me wandering the corridors after curfew, I'd be in trouble. Fortunately, the silent figure passed close to the corridor window, and I recognized Violet's silver hair reflecting in the moonlight. I smiled. Violet, sneaking out of the dormitory, as if she didn't want to be seen. She moved carefully, her gaze alert, but she didn't notice me. My heart raced. What was she doing?

I leaned against the wall, watching as she moved silently down the corridor. Her movements were cautious, as if she was well aware of the possible consequences of being caught. Knowing Violet, I was sure the Codex rules were crystal clear in her sharp mind, which made me wonder what could be worth the risk.

For a moment, I considered ignoring it, heading to my dormitory and crawling into bed, but curiosity got the better of me. I knew Violet wasn't the type to break rules on a whim. If she was sneaking out after curfew, something was going on. And I wanted to know what.

She proceeded down the outer corridor and, with a quick motion, slipped through the side gates, which were slightly ajar, walking swiftly across the moonlit courtyard. I followed at a safe distance outside, where the cold night air enveloped my skin, making me shiver slightly. The ground was damp and slippery, becoming even muddier as she approached the stream in the woods surrounding Basgiath.

Violet stopped near the stream's edge, her eyes alert, as if something important was about to happen there. I crouched behind a tree, breathing as quietly as possible, my hands trembling slightly as I tried not to make any sudden movements. Violet moved closer to a large tree a few meters ahead and crouched down. I squinted, trying to see what she was doing in the midst of the bushes.

I smiled. The little devil. Violet was picking purple berries.

So that's how she planned to survive the challenges.

I was about to intercept her when I saw her abruptly halt, and instinct made me hide in the shadows. I followed Violet's gaze, which had also gone down among the bushes, and my breath caught. I recognized him immediately, with a presence that seemed to dominate the surroundings. My heart skipped a beat, and my breath was caught in my throat. Xaden.