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PREVIOUSLY...
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Azura's training progressed, and with it, her struggle to hide her strange abilities became more difficult. To sell her act, she allowed herself to be beaten by a fellow student and received a glaring bruise to her face because of it. She also learnt she's un-gifted with magic.

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Exhaustion weighs on my chest like a boulder, pressing me further into the soft embrace of my blankets. Usually I'd be awake at the arse-crack of dawn, but the bed is warm and the linen is gentle against the curl of my toes.

I could get used to this.

My eyes spring open with that thought. My fingers grip the blankets, still gloved and hidden from prying eyes. It's a sharp reminder of why I can't get used to this. Magic or not, I'm still different and forgetting that fact will lead me to ruin.

I roll over onto my side, facing the wall and glare at the wood panelling, my mood souring as usual.

I wanted to have magic. I wanted it so badly and I don't even know why.

I press my hands to my face, frustrated with myself for continuing to wish for such fanciful things. Warroll stripped me bare, showed me that magic means nothing.

I was put on my back in Warroll, my soul torn to pieces, and all the magic in the world meant nothing when I was faced with Jile's leer and his rough fingers. All the magic in the world meant nothing when he cut my throat and left me to die in a corner of the warehouse.

My fingers trail to the scar at my throat and brush the jagged flesh. I healed, but it still happened. Being different didn't stop it from happening. Being different is only going to garner more notice from the Order that I don't need.

My fingers pause on the scar and another thought pushes through the jumbled mess in my head. I touch my jaw, pressing against the smooth skin where there was once a knot and a bruise.

A curse leaves my lips as I toss off my blankets and rush to the bathroom, locking the door behind me, the other girls still asleep in their beds. But if they'd seen...

I glare at myself in the mirror where just that night colourful bruises had bloomed on the side of my face. Now the skin is as white as ever, completely healed.

In the streets it was a useful advantage. I didn't have the risk of infection, I wasn't slowed down for too long by wounds if I gave my body the chance to heal itself. But in this school surrounded by eyes that are eager to peel me apart and turn me into their assassin, it's not much of an advantage anymore.

My fingers curl around the edge of the bench, breathing quickening as my heart hammers at my ribs.

I know what I have to do. Pain is a familiar companion, one that's always walked by my side, one that my brother taught me to endure.

I let out a breath, grit my teeth, lean back, then bring my head down. A spark of panic grips me just before my jaw connects with the edge of the bench. Agony shudders through me as I crumble to my knees, swallowing my cry. I let out ragged breaths, cradling the side of my face as blood drips from my lips to pool on the tiles I rest my forehead against.

"Azura?" A knock sounds on the door and I tense. "Are you alright?"

I close my eyes, Suri's voice filled with concern. "Yes, I just..." I turn my head, my hands curling into fists as my eyes scour the contents of the bathroom, "dropped the soap."

There's a beat of silence on the other side of the door and I lick the blood from my lips, waiting for her to call out my lie. "Okay," she replies. "Lilja and I are about to go to breakfast if you want to come with us."

"I'll be right out." I get to my feet, turn on the tap, and rinse the blood from my mouth, watching the red swirl down the pipe before I clean up the floor.

I should probably be careful about receiving injuries from now on.

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I wince through every bite of food, my jaw and cheek still tender. It's a small price to pay for my secrecy.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the healer?" Suri asks once again, seated across from me, a crease between her thick brows.

"I'm sure," I mutter around the bacon drenched in syrup in my mouth.

"Fine, but it looks worse than it did last night."

The sudden arc of pain as I swallow has to agree with her on that point.

I'm about to reassure her again when someone slips onto the bench beside me, freezing the words on my tongue.

"Ari!" Suri exclaims and lurches over the table to wrap her arms around the boy's shoulders.

"Hello to you too," he chuckles and my eyes snap to him, recognising that soft voice. The one I trained with yesterday. He meets my eye, his brown gaze filled with amusement that fades as they rake over my face and the glaring bruise.

"You haven't sat with us for a while," Suri says with a pout as she sits back down.

"I was... busy," he replies, his gaze flicking to her before settling back on me. "I wanted to apologise again for that." He nods to my jaw that I press my fingers against.

"Wait," Suri interrupts, glancing between us. "You're the culprit?"

The boy—Ari—winces before he nods.

Suri swipes up a grape from her plate and flicks it at his head. It bounces onto the table and Ari picks it up and pops it in his mouth. "Maybe you should be gentler with the new kid."

I scowl at Suri. I'm the furthest person from needing to be treated gently.

"I'll keep that in mind."

My scowl switches to the boy that sits beside me. He meets my eye, a smile playing on his lips.

"Azura," Suri says. "This is Ari, he's kind of a celebrity around here."

Ari's eyes narrow at her as he reaches for an apple in the bowl at the centre of the table. "I'm really not."

"Of the seventy-five students in this school at the moment," Lilja adds in, breaking her silence at Suri's side, "he's the only shape-shifter."

My hand stills around my fork with a piece of scrambled egg hovering just before my mouth. I don't dare look at Ari as he twists the stalk off the apple, not looking up

"So, that means Ari is a very special student to Palmira," Suri continues, smiling like nothing is wrong.

I want to tell her to stop talking, but I can't seem to push the words past my lips.

There's a reason Ari's the only shape-shifter in this school, and it makes me sick thinking about it. There's no one else like him here because they're all dead, slaughtered by the Sharlik Empire when they sailed across the Blood Ocean and levelled the shape-shifter kingdom. Everyone thought the Empire had become complacent, gone soft, and there was no more need for a rebellion. Then they destroyed a race of mighty people and reminded everyone they should still live in fear.

"I hear you're not in Master Quade's class," I speak to break the tense silence that's settled between us.

Ari glances at me and relief flares in his gaze as I offer him a small smile. "I'm not," he says and sinks his teeth into the apple.

"Well, I'm not either."

"Wait," Suri says again, pointing her strawberry at me. "You didn't tell me you didn't pass the magical test."

I lift a shoulder and tighten my fingers around my fork. "Guess it slipped my mind." More like I wanted to be left alone, more upset about it than I thought I'd be.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Ari says to me with a flash of his teeth. "It just means we get more time to practice the fun stuff."

"Magic's fun," Suri argues. "Much more fun than learning how to stab things."

"I'll disagree to that," I mutter and Ari chuckles.

"See? She gets it." He jabs a thumb at me and munches on his apple, his amber eyes twinkling.

I wonder for a moment if he's ever killed someone, ever felt the same rush of power that I get whenever I stand amongst the gore left in my wake. I wonder if he's ever worn a satisfied smile as he cut someone's throat.

Born a monster.

I blink and the thoughts are dashed away, replaced with the brewing argument between Ari and Suri comparing the benefits of magic and weaponry. A smile curves my lips as I listen and eat, a strange feeling settling in my stomach, something that might be contentment if I were brave enough to look at it closely.