Wild and Out of Control

|chapter forty-five|

|danica|

Where do I even start researching about mythical creatures without raising red flags to the people around me?

     Bouncing my knee, I sit in a secluded area in the library, books and papers scattered all across the table in front of me. As it turns out, the library had a wealth of books available on old Navarrian myths and legends. All it took was some gentle persuasion and odd looks from the scribes, and I was able to obtain all the necessary materials to research this venom.

     I could be doing so many other things, like completing homework from my classes, training my signet with Professor Carr, or riding with Azare. But no, I'm spending my Sunday afternoon in the library looking up a mythical creature that doesn't even exist. All because of a dream. A nightmare where Xaden was using me. That's all it was, though. A nightmare. Nothing more, nothing less.

     But there is still a kernel deep in my mind that's telling me that my nightmare showed me some sort of truth. I have nothing to back it up but a gut feeling. And it's horrible to think it, because that means that Xaden...

     No, he wouldn't do that.

     But then again, I don't know him. Not truly.

     I don't know what to think anymore.

     That nightmare has put a strain on our relationship. We haven't spoken in days, not since our argument. I take a deep breath and lean back against the chair as the memories of that day come back.

It was seven days after the Games when I singlehandedly wiped out an entire squad and six days since the night that changed everything.

     I'm wearing long sleeves even though it's like a furnace in the heated rooms to cover the casts over my arms. This has happened every time I use my signet for a long period of time or if I use a lot of energy at one time—I get fractures all up my arms. At first, it hurt like a bitch. I could barely move my arms, but after Professor Carr taught me some tricks on keeping the pain at bay, I've been able to manage it better.

     I've mostly been keeping to myself since I was cleared to go back to class. Every pair of eyes I feel on me thinks I'm a monster, this I'm sure of. I could kill any one of them at a given moment, like I killed that squad. I'm a killer. A monster. Everything I didn't want to become.

     My father's wish finally came true: I became the weapon he's always wanted.

     In my thoughts, I don't think to watch where I'm going because I bump into someone. The force of it sends tingles up my arms as pain radiates through the bones, so much for keeping the pain locked up.

     "Watch where you're going, freak," the boy hissed at me before sauntering off with his friends, laughing at something, probably me.

     I gulp, not understanding why he called me that. I've never been called a freak before in my life, not even when I was young and different from the other kids my age. There was a shift in dynamics after the Games, and people either started trying to be my friend—most likely my ally—or avoided me altogether.

     I'm not sure if it's real or all in my head, but I feel the change.

     It takes longer than it usually does to get to Battle Brief, and by the time I enter, Professor Devera has already started her debrief. Quietly making my way over to the empty seat in the back, I sit and bring my notepad out to start taking notes. I see Violet looking over at me from our usual seats, motioning to the two empty seats next to her. One is supposed to be mine while the other is Liam's, but he's still at the infirmary and not cleared to go back to class.