Chapter Six— Ryuu
The morning training began, and it was nothing like Nyrah had prepared for.
The instructor, a massive wolf therian with scars across his arms, barked orders in a language Nyrah didn't recognize. The other students moved immediately, forming lines and taking stances she'd never seen before.
Nyrah tried to copy them, but she was always a step behind. Her feet were in the wrong position. Her grip on the sword was too tight. Everything felt wrong.
She turned to the person beside her, a boy with pointed ears and silver markings on his face.
"What are we supposed to do?" she whispered.
He didn't even look at her.
She tried again with the girl on her other side. "Can you explain what—"
The girl moved away like Nyrah hadn't spoken at all.
No one would help her. No one would even acknowledge her.
The instructor called for sparring matches. That's when the dragon clan girl stepped forward again.
"I'll take the human," she announced.
Her name was Voss. Nyrah had overheard someone say it.
They faced each other in the center of the training circle. Other students gathered around to watch.
Voss smiled. "Try not to die too quickly."
The instructor signaled for them to begin.
Voss moved fast. Faster than Nyrah expected. Her sword came down hard, and Nyrah barely got her blade up in time to block it. The impact sent vibrations up her arms.
Voss pressed forward, striking again and again. Nyrah backpedaled, trying to defend herself. But Voss was stronger. More skilled. And she was clearly enjoying this.
A slash across Nyrah's shoulder. Not deep enough to be serious, but enough to draw blood.
Nyrah gritted her teeth and kept fighting.
Another cut along her forearm. Then one across her thigh.
"Is this all you've got?" Voss taunted.
Nyrah tried to counterattack, but Voss deflected easily and swept Nyrah's legs out from under her. Nyrah hit the ground hard, her sword flying from her grip.
Voss stood over her, the tip of her blade pressed against Nyrah's throat.
"Yield," she said.
Nyrah's chest heaved. Blood dripped from her wounds. But she glared up at Voss and said nothing.
"I said yield."
The blade pressed harder.
"Yield," the instructor called out. "Match over."
Voss pulled her sword back and walked away, laughing with the other dragon clan students.
Nyrah lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky. Every part of her body hurt.
But she pushed herself up. Grabbed her sword. And got back in line for the next drill.
The training continued for hours. Running. Weapons practice. Hand-to-hand combat. By the time the instructor finally dismissed them, Nyrah could barely stand.
Her cuts had stopped bleeding, but they still stung. Her muscles screamed with every movement. She was covered in dirt and sweat and dried blood.
But she'd made it through the day.
That evening, they had dinner in a large dining hall the students called the Café. It was loud and crowded, filled with the sound of conversation and laughter.
Nyrah grabbed a tray of food and looked around for a place to sit. Every table was full. Or at least, that's what people made it seem like when she approached.
She'd walk toward an empty seat and someone would suddenly put their bag there. Or they'd tell her it was saved for someone else.
Finally, she found a small table in the corner. Empty. She sat down alone.
Black appeared from under the table and jumped up onto the bench beside her. He'd been following her all day, staying out of the way during training but always nearby.
Nyrah picked at her food. Some kind of stew and bread. It wasn't bad, but she was too tired to really taste it.
Black just stared at her while she ate. His green eyes didn't blink.
"Stop judging me," she muttered.
Black meowed softly.
Nyrah was halfway through her meal when she noticed someone walking toward her table.
Kieran.
Before she could react, he reached down and grabbed Black.
The cat yowled and struggled, but Kieran held him firmly.
Nyrah shot to her feet. "Drop him. Now."
Kieran looked at her with those sharp fox eyes. "Or what?"
"I said drop him."
Black was meowing frantically, trying to scratch Kieran's arms. But Kieran didn't seem to care.
"You're a fool for coming here," Kieran said calmly. "You know that, right?"
"That's none of your business. Put him down."
"It is my business when someone as weak as you makes the rest of us look bad." He held Black higher. "Maybe I should keep him. Teach him to follow someone worth following."
"He's bonded to me," Nyrah said, her voice shaking with anger. "You can't take him."
"Bonded?" Kieran laughed. "You don't even know what that means. You're playing pretend with a cat that probably just sticks around because you feed him."
Nyrah's hands clenched into fists. "Let. Him. Go."
"Or what? You'll fight me? You can barely hold a sword."
"Mind your own business, Kieran."
He leaned closer. "Do you really think the Academy was nice enough to just accept a human? Out of the kindness of their hearts?"
"I don't care why they accepted me. I'm here, and I'm staying."
"You're here because you're useful to them somehow. You just haven't figured out how yet." His smile was sharp. "Think about it. Why would they—"
The doors to the dining hall opened.
Everyone went quiet.
Ryuu walked in. He was tall, with dark hair and an air of authority that made people move out of his way. Behind him was Saela, a girl with silver hair and cold eyes.
Ryuu's gaze swept the room and landed on Kieran.
"Drop the cat," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried.
Kieran stared at him. Then he glanced over at another table where Killian sat, watching with mild interest.
Killian gave no reaction. Didn't nod. Didn't speak. Just watched.
Kieran's jaw tightened. Then he opened his hand and let Black drop.
The cat hit the floor and immediately ran back to Nyrah, who scooped him up.
"Think about what I said," Kieran told her. Then he walked away.
Nyrah held Black close and looked at Ryuu. "Thank you."
But Ryuu didn't acknowledge her. He walked right past her table like she hadn't spoken, heading to sit with Saela and a few other high-ranking students.
Nyrah watched him go. Proud. That's what he was. Too proud to even accept a thank you.
She sat back down, holding Black in her lap.
"Arrogant prince,"
She cursed.