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PREVIOUSLY...
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Azura awoke to discover the previously vibrant bruise on her jaw from her training to have healed overnight. Continuing to hide her mysterious abilities, she re-injured herself. Later, she encountered the boy who had wounded her and learnt that he's the only shape-shifter within the Order, hailing from the destroyed Tacree Kingdom.

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Lessons that day leave my eyes grainy with exhaustion, but I can't seem to relax as I lay in my bed, staring at the dark ceiling, snores from Suri the only noise in the room.

Most of the day was spent exercising, running circles around the ballroom until my legs burned and my clothes were damp with sweat. Then there was Erasmus' constant yelling, his voice a thunderclap in the wide space every time one of us fell behind or just because he felt like it.

The knock on the door makes me blink and sit up, my back straining in protest. Who would visit us at this time?

They're here to kill you. They know you're a monster.

I slip from the bed and keep my steps light as I approach the door, gloved fingers curled into fists as I once again long for a weapon. I remind myself to swipe a knife at breakfast.

The rap on the door comes again and I hold my breath.

"Azura," comes a voice, one I recognise.

My shoulders slump and I open the door, light from the candles in the hall flooding the room. "Erasmus," I murmur as I reveal the man.

"Get dressed," he commands and I frown at him.

"Why?"

He glances towards the lumps in the other beds. "Quickly, please."

I gnaw on my lower lip as I nod, shut the door, and tug on a navy sweater and boots before stepping out into the hall with him. I follow behind him as he walks through the winding halls that I still struggle to familiarise myself with.

Erasmus takes me outside and through the overgrown vegetation of the school's grounds, keeping his lips sealed the entire way. My breath swirls in the air before my face, the cool night air heavy with the wet smell of dirt and dying plants. I wrap my arms around myself as we pass the twisted iron gates of the school, leaving behind the crumbling but deceiving manor.

Erasmus leads me into the woods just beyond the school and each step adds another stone to my stomach.

Run. Run now.

Except, I can't. I agreed to this path, now I have no choice but to see it through until what will no doubt be a bitter end.

The end of a rope.

Erasmus stops trudging through the mud and wet leaves once we've reached a small clearing that allows the moon to illuminate his shaved head and dark skin. He turns to me, his russet eyes glittering in the silvery light.

"You're holding back in your training."

My spine stiffens at his words, sudden and loud in the pressing quiet of the forest. My fingers ache with how hard I clench my hands into fists. "I'm doing everything I can."

I only get a small warning. The muscles in his shoulders bunch before he flings out a hand and a dagger glints in the moonlight as it slices towards me. I dart to the side, the dagger whispering against my cheek as I turn my head to avoid its wicked edge. It sinks into the tree behind me and I slide obsidian eyes to Erasmus.

"You could've dodged that blow from Ari the other day," Erasmus points out as he straightens, a smug tilt to his lips. "You reined in your strength. Why are you hiding, Azura?"

I pull the dagger from the tree and study it to avoid his eye. "I assumed you wanted your assassin to be discreet."

"Which is why we're out here," he replies and begins to roll up his sleeves. "You want to hide yourself from prying eyes? Fine, I'll train you alone."

My jaw works as he approaches me, a firm set to his features.

"Keep the knife," he says, then swings at my face. I lurch back, barely avoiding his knuckles as my eyes widen.

He's serious?

Erasmus sinks lower, angling his body.

Shit, he's serious.

He throws another punch and I scramble away, only for my back to hit the tree. I gasp as his fist barrels towards my face and I duck. He hisses as his knuckles slam into the trunk of the tree, the force of his blow spraying bark into my hair. I clamber away from him, my breathing quickening. That punch could have shattered my nose if it'd landed.

"You're quick," he remarks, shaking his bloody knuckles, unfazed by the pain. "But I know you're more than that, Azura."

"You don't know anything about me," I spit back, anger rearing its head, hot like molten as it churns in my gut, threatening to boil out of me.

"I hear you don't have magic," he replies, ignoring my words. "You're going to have to compensate for that."

"I've never needed it before." I study each shift he makes, wary of what he plans to do next. But I can't show him what I'm capable of. They'll use it against me, find a way to control me and turn me into their weapon. I'm already toeing the line.

"That's because you've never fought anyone with magic." He's not wrong about that. Erasmus touches his bare forearm and something ignites on his skin. It's then I realise that his skin is littered with strange markings. Sygils. They're sygils imbedded in his skin, just waiting to be wielded.

He thrusts out his hand and I can only gasp before the wave hits me, tossing leaves into the air before it slams into my chest and launches me off my feet. I claw at the air, a scream lodged in my throat, before I collide with a tree. The air whooshes from my lungs and I collapse onto the ground, wheezing amongst the leaves and mud, unable to lift my head to watch Erasmus' approach. Pain is a fire under my skin, scorching every inch of me as I struggle to suck in any air.

Erasmus kneels beside me. "Are you going to stop withholding, or am I going to have to continue demonstrating what you're up against?"

"I'm not..." I wince as the agony flares. I grip the leaves as I look up at him. "I'm not withholding anything."

Erasmus lets out a breath before reaching forward. My gut lurches as he grips my right wrist and I'm helpless to stop him as he peels away my leather glove to reveal the golden markings, their glow faint amongst the darkness. "Then these are normal? Even for someone without magic?"

My lip trembles as I'm faced with those wretched markings and I wish the time I'd stuck my hand into the fire to burn them away had worked. But the skin had healed, not even leaving behind a scar from my blistered flesh.

"Your markings," someone else says and my gaze lifts to the rider on horseback at the edge of the clearing, someone I didn't even notice. Palmira regards us, a thick fur draped over her shoulders. I wonder how long she's been here and how much of what Erasmus did was by her order. "You don't know what they mean, do you?"

I don't bother giving her a reply. She knows I don't understand them, and she knows that's the reason I'm still here; to find the answers I've always been deprived of.

The fury that burns my throat reminds me of where I am. On the ground, beaten down, weak, like my brother never taught me how to relish pain and rise.

I grit my teeth and snatch the glove from Erasmus before sitting up, hurt like talons raking across my skin. Erasmus raises a brow at me as I slip my glove back on, huffing through the agony like a wounded deer.

"I'm going back to bed," I tell them, my voice firm and filled with the rage that begs to be satiated with blood.

Erasmus opens his mouth to argue but Palmira interrupts him, "Let her go. She's beginning to understand."

"Understand what?" I growl as I stagger to my feet.

Palmira's lips curl as she looks down at me. "That no matter how strong or skilled you really are, it still won't be enough without our help. Not when you go into the belly of the beast."

Her words make me want to vomit.

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A shiver snakes down my spine as the wind lifts my hair, brushing my neck. The night air is cool and quiet, a stark contrast to everything that binds me together.

Jump. Do it.

I incline my head as I peer over the edge of the balcony, the ground a severe drop below me. The untamed grounds of the school spread before me, the gardens wild, the pathways winding and cracked. They'd have to peel my body from the thorns piece by piece.

Just let go.

The gravelly hiss in my head won't leave, no matter how many times I stick my fingers in my ears to try and dig it out.

The room is warm and welcoming behind me, smelling of cinnamon and clean linen, but I don't turn inside, instead I lean further over the edge of the balcony, testing fate, my back aching with the movement.

It would be so easy to forget it all, to forget my questions, my pain, my shortcomings, to forget Palmira and her words that affect me more than they have any right to. All it would take is a little push, then nothing.

Sweet nothingness.

Indeed. Sweet. So tantalising, like the sugary cream pastries that Suri shared with me.

Suri. The moment I laid eyes on her she reminded me of Dax. Like a stray puppy seeking shelter from the rain. Her sister is that shelter for her, but Dax only had me and now he's dead.

Should have been you.

Stop it. You're being cruel.

She's cruel.

I am cruel.

My gloved hands curl around the railing of the balcony, the cool metal seeping through the leather.

Cruel for not protecting Dax from Jile. Cruel for letting the man abuse Dax as Jile did me when I promised him different. Cruel for letting him die. Cruel for not avenging Dax when I had the chance.

But it's just the way things seem to go. People look to me and they suffer because of it.

Little flame.

My fingers tighten around the railing, nails digging into my gloves as his voice whispers in my ear. I close my eyes, breathe in the frigid air, and there he is. The gentle wave of his pale, auburn locks obscure parts of his face. He stands amongst a sea of white, endless white that stretches on forever. He reaches out to me, porcelain fingers curling as he tries to reach me.

I failed him. I'm weak. I will never be strong enough to do what I need to do to get answers. And I failed him by letting him die.

Little flame, this world needs you more than I do.

I reach for him, throw out my arm and try to drag him back to me, already knowing the fate that awaits him amongst such white. Snow swirls around us and I can't stop the cry that tears from my lips as the white takes him from me.

What about me? What about me needing you?

"Alastor," I choke out. But the white is being eaten. Instead, it's drenched in red. Crimson seeps towards me, staining everything it touches.

Blood. His blood. The roars of the demons are in my ears but not before I hear him scream for me to run. Then I'm falling, tumbling through the ice, the shock of water numbing my body and stealing my air.

"Azura!"

My eyes snap open and the world before me comes into focus. I gasp as the ground swirls beneath me, my feet dangling. I look up to where Suri bows over the railing, her fingers digging into my arm as she struggles to hold my weight.

I meet her green gaze, desperation flickering there. Desperation and confusion, like she can't understand what just happened.

Let go.

"Pull me up," I demand but Suri just grits her teeth and stares at me, her grip on my arm slipping.

A curse tumbles from my lips and I swing my other arm up. Suri's eyes widen as I grip the railing and heave myself over it. Swift and far too agile, I land on my feet on the balcony and suck in a breath.

Suri stumbles back, gasping in air as she leans against the railing. "Are you okay?"

I glance towards the twisted garden, my brother still burned into the backs of my eyelids, begging me to run as the demons clawed through him.

"Azura? What happened?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I was just trying to enjoy the view?"

Suri gapes at me, her features horrified.

I adjust my gloves. "I slipped, I didn't mean to."

Suri stares at my hands as I lower them to my sides before she shakes her head. "You could have died."

I lift a shoulder. "Probably."

She blinks at me, her lips parted. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I offer her an attempt at a smile. "Sure." I turn inside, my stomach churning.

And what if I had died? Would that be so bad? It's not as though there's anyone to remember me, to mourn me.

Nothing. You have nothing.

As usual.

"Azura."

"Hmm?" I look at Suri over my shoulder as she closes the balcony doors, her eyes on me.

"If you ever want to talk about anything," she begins, her voice shaky, "I'm always here to listen. I want you to know that."

"Right," I reply and retreat into the bathroom where a locked door puts enough space between us that I can take an unsteady breath.

The choice I made tries to choke me. I chose to be here, to agree with Palmira's plans to assassinate the emperor. I can either live with my choice, or succeed in throwing myself off the balcony.

I look into the mirror to see the tired-eyed girl staring back at me, her face smeared with mud, her black hair sticking to her temples with sweat. I stare at her, willing her to be stronger, to be better on her own. I let out a breath that fogs the mirror, obscuring the weak-willed girl that stares back.

I can do this on my own. I don't need Erasmus' training, nor do I need Palmira's cryptic gaze and sinister smile. I'll do this alone, as I have since my brother was torn apart by demons before my eyes.