Page 130 of Death of a Mortal

And secretly, I loved that she called me fireball. It felt…dangerous.

Chapter 31

Darkness in the Light

I woke witha smile the following morning, barely after first light, my barracks full of female fae and mortal women in every bed. I had just survived a whole day with my powers unblocked and hadn’t lost control. Being fae felt slightly less daunting.

And today would be the first day of a whole new life.

The schedule Drayce had drawn up for me included strength training before breakfast, private elemental instruction with Bramick after breakfast, private political catch-up with Kaelor (no idea what that meant), and then the rest of the day after lunch with the Arcanum order.

Not but a few moments after I opened my eyes, I realized what had awoken me so early—the muscle-head physical training coach Aerie pointed out yesterday was standing over the foot of my bed.

“What the—”

“Out of bed, soldier, we’ve got training in five!”

He turned and walked out of the barracks, leaving me in sleepy disorientation.

Shit. This was the one thing I was not looking forward to. Yes, Iwanted to get stronger; I was done being weak. But did it have to be withthisguy? He was already striking me as pushy and demanding.

A few of the others in the barracks grunted in their beds at his shout.

I dressed quickly, reached out to Noxie to find he was asleep, and left the barracks, where Muscle-head was waiting for me.

It didn’t make sense—I didn’t know there were so many muscles in the body. His muscles had muscles. And the fact that he was mortal made his physique even more impressive. And intimidating.

Come to think of it, I didn’t have fangs or pointed ears either, even after the magic-blocking cuffs had come off. Maybe I had subconsciously expected that to change when my power was freed, but part of me was happy to keep my mortal appearance. I’d ask the Arcanum leader about it later.

“We will have one-hour sessions before breakfast each morning to work on your endurance and your strength,” he said. “I expect you to give me your all each session, understood, soldier?”

I did not enjoy being addressed as “soldier” all the time, but I nodded.

“I need to hear it, soldier! You’ll respond with ‘yes, Garrick, sir’!”

I snorted and gave a halfhearted “yes, sir.”

Garrick did not like it. And I spent the next hour paying dearly for it.

He had me running laps around the compound, pushing me faster than my legs and lungs could take me, sweat pouring down my entire body. Just when I was at the point of throwing up, he directed me into a small building by the dirt rings. It was packed full of mats, weights, and benches.

“Weightlifting?” I gasped the question out between heaving breaths, my chest on fire in an entirely new way.

“You want muscle? You lift weights, soldier!”

I rolled my eyes.

“But you haven’t earned that yet. We start with the basics until you’re ready.”

Basics sounded great after that brutal running session.

But that turned out to be folly.

We did push-ups until my arms trembled and gave out, sit-ups until I couldn’t lift my back more than an inch off the mat. After that, I actually did throw up. He said we still had squats to do before I was done for the morning, and I said no.

“No?” he repeated coldly. “You don’t get to tell me no! If you don’t do them now, you’ll do them after dinner, doubled!”

“Fine. After dinner,” I said as I collapsed back on the mat, relieved to be done and unsure how I would get through the rest of the day.