Jasmin's POV
Time seemed suspended as our eyes met across the field. Take responsibility? By tossing his uniform at me like some consolation prize?
"Unbelievable," I whispered through gritted teeth, turning my back on him and marching off the training grounds. My fingers still stung from the bitter cold, but the fury building inside me burned far hotter than any afternoon sun. Max's insufferable arrogance made my blood boil. First he destroys my uniform by knocking it into the mud, then acts like he's doing me some grand favor by offering his own. Like he ruled this entire Academy.
When I finally made it back to my dormitory, the soggy fabric of my training shirt stuck to my skin like ice. I threw open my wardrobe and grabbed the loose-fitting shirt and jacket that had become my uniform of survival. These oversized clothes were my armor, hiding the feminine curves that would expose everything if anyone noticed.
