Wild and Out of Control

|chapter three|

     "Hey," I snap. "Your mother might have been the one to capture and imprison them, but it was my father who oversaw their execution. Hopefully, that will place a bigger target on my back than yours. Now, get over there and don't die."

     Violet nods as I size up her opponent. Almost a head taller than she is, Pinky is lean built with slight muscle lining her arms. "Good luck."

     "I won't need it as much as you do."

     I walk over to the mat adjacent to the one Violet and Pinky occupy, already noticing Barlowe pacing in the center, his eyes not leaving mine. I shake the chill that begins to rock down my body and step onto the mat. "Now remember, this is only assessment day, so play fair," the professor called behind us.

    "Of course, wouldn't want it any other way. It's not like she'll be able to win against me or anything. Not with her size and all," he spits as his eyes rove over my body. Fuck. Him. I'm not that small, and even if I were to him, I make it up in my speed and agility. "Bring you worst, Red."

     "What a creative name, Barlowe," I say as I circle him. He's not the first to call me that, and given that my hair is auburn-colored, he won't be the last. I wait for him to attack, never making the first move myself, because I know if I do, I'll leave myself vulnerable for a counter maneuver. "You going to attack or just prance around?"

     He lunges forward, swinging his right arm to punch me in the face, but I easily block it and instead grab his extended arm and pull it behind his back. It's bent at an odd angle, and he lets out a pained breath. I use his stunned state to hook my leg under his and flip us until he's on his back and I'm ranging over him with my arm against his neck. "How can you be flipped onto your back by someone my size?" I taunt, smiling with teeth at him while he glares up at me.

     "You bitch!" he seethes as he brings his head back and whips it forward, connecting his forehead with my nose. My head whips backward as pain radiates throughout my head, the sound of bone crunching filling my ears. I'm pushed backward, landing on my stomach, and reeling from the shock of a broken nose. I sense him come behind me and feel something hard and sharp—a knife, I realize— try to stab into my back but it was stopped by the dragon-scaled armor Mira gave me. 

     Thank you, Mira, for your ingenious gift.

     "What the hell?" Barlowe questions as he flips me over and pushes my neck into the mat. "What kind of armor is this?" He tries to stab me with the knife again, but the dragon-scaled armor deflects it again. 

     I muster up the strength to push back, wrapping my legs around his waist while grabbing for his knife and flipping us so he lays his stomach down. "Mine," I hiss as I pull his head up by his hair so I can place the knife against his throat. I ignore the blood running down my face and onto his back and the mat, instead pressing the knife harder into his throat until a thin line of blood on his neck. "Do you yield?"

     "No!" I guess he has the same arrogance as Tynan. They would be the best of pals. "You're the weakest after Sorrengail." Little does he know. I press harder, earning a pained yelp from him.

     "He yields," Professor Emettorio says from beside the mat. My head snaps up at the sound of his voice. He's supposed to be overseeing Violet and Pinky. I look over and see that she's not there or anywhere near. And so is Dain. "That's enough."

     I raise from where I crouch above Barlowe. "What happened with Sorrengail and Pinky?" I ask Emettorio as I step off the mat.

     He doesn't get the chance to answer before Barlowe regains his position. "This isn't over, Hawthorne!"

     "Yeah, well this round is over, at least," I call over my shoulder, not turning to face him. "Sorrengail and Pinky?" I ask Emettorio again.

     "Violet and Imogen had finished their sparring a few minutes ago, and Squad Leader Aetos took Violet to the Healers Quadrant because Imogen..." he pauses. "Dislocated her shoulder."

     Violet's dislocated shoulder. Violet hurt. Violet injured. 

     I search the gym for a certain pink-haired, rebellion relicced, second year. I spot her at the edge, talking to a tall girl and an even taller boy. My eyes drift over to the one standing off to their side. My breath catches for a moment as I recognize the blond boy with the blue eyes.

     Liam.

     I push through the crowds of cadets and make my way over to Pinky. She looks up as she senses my arrival and the glare she sends my way would kill anyone else. "You have a problem with Sorrengail you come to me. You don't dislocate her arm on assessment day."

     "I didn't know you were close with Sorrengail. Seems obvious, though. The children of monsters always become friends," she spat with such hatred that I almost flinch. "And, if it's any of your concern, I didn't mean to dislocate her shoulder, it just happened." She shrugs, and I go to lunge forward but the larger-than-life boy steps in front of her.

     "Careful, Hawthorne." He crosses his arms over his chest and stares me down. "You hurt her, you go through me."

     I narrow my eyes. "I don't have to." I turn and walk away before they have the chance to talk back, ignoring Liam when he tries to stop me. I hear him come up from behind, but I quicken my pace to avoid him. That is until a hand grabs my elbow and yanks me backward. "Get your hands off me!"

     "Danica, wait. Just listen," Liam's voice breaks through the rage clouding in my mind. "I didn't know, okay? I didn't know who you were."

     "Oh, so you wouldn't have talked to me if you knew?" I retort, yanking my arm out of his grip. "How about me? I knew you carried that rebellion relic but I didn't let that influence my judgment, because unlike you, I don't care what your parents did. You are not your parents."

     I push past him, toward the doors of the gym, trying to push back the tears threatening to spill out. Gods, what is wrong with me? We weren't even friends. I blame the broken nose for the sudden dryness in my throat and the hardness of breathing. Cadets are looking at me weirdly, and I know it has to do with the broken nose, but the staring made my skin crawl. I rounded the corner but must have misjudged the distance because I ran straight into a wall. However, it was surprisingly warm for a wall.

     No, not a wall. A person.

     I drag my eyes up the large expanse of the leather-covered chest and to the gold-flecked onyx-colored eyes of Xaden Riorson. I feel a warm hand on my waist to study me as I sway from the impact of our collision. Every part of me that touches him feels like it's on fire, and I want to push away from him and push myself closer at the same time. His eyes narrow and that's all it takes for reality to set in. 

     "What are you doing there, Riorson?" I push away from him, placing at least three feet between us. "Don't you know to look before you walk?"

     "I could ask you the same thing as you're the one who bumped into me," he shoots back as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall. I ignore the way his muscles bunch in the sleeves of his shirt.

     Asshole. "Uh-huh, yeah, whatever. Don't bump into me again."

     "Wouldn't dream of it."