Romvi attacked.

For someone so old, Romvi sure could move fast. I backed across the mats, trying to remember everything Aiden had taught me over the summer. Romvi swung around, his booted heel aiming for my midsection. I swiped his leg away and threw a punch I really, reallymeant. He blocked that. On and on we went, exchanging and receiving blows. He was landing more on me, continuously edging me toward the edge of the mat.

With each swing and each kick, Romvi’s blows became more brutal. It waslike fighting a daimon, because I seriously believed Romvi wanted to do me real harm. I was holding my own until my sneaker slipped off the edge of the mat. I made a tactical mistake.

I allowed myself to be distracted.

Romvi took it. Reaching out and grabbing a fistful of my ponytail, he yanked me forward. “You should be less worried about your vanity,” he said, twisting me so my back faced the doors. “And cut your hair.”

I struck out, catching Romvi in the stomach, but it didn’t faze him. Using my own momentum—and my hair—he slammed me onto the mat. I rolled into the fall, half grateful that it was over. I didn’t even care that he’d kicked my ass in front of the entire class. Just as long as this—

Romvi grabbed my arm and pulled it high above me, yanking me to my knees. “Listen to me, half-bloods. Dying in battle is not your worst nightmare anymore.”

My eyes popped wide. Oh, no. No, no, no. He wouldn’t dare…

He pushed the sleeve of the Under Armour shirt back until my skin was exposed to the elbow. “This is what happens to you. Take a good, long look at what happens when you fail. They will turn you into a monster.”

Fire coursed across my cheeks and my brain sort of emptied. I tried, really tried, to keep the scars hidden from my classmates. I focused on anything other than the faces of the students as he continued to show the world my tags. My gaze fell over his rough, aged hand, then up his own battle-scarred arm. The sleeve of his shirt had fallen back, revealing a tattoo of a torch turned downward.

Instructor Romvi hadn’t struck me as the type to be into tattoos.

Romvi dropped my arm then, allowing me to pull my sleeve down. I hoped he got eaten by hungry daimons. I might look like a scarred-up freak, but I hadn’t failed a damn thing. I’d killed the daimon ultimately responsible for leaving me this way—my mother.

“None of you are ready to become Sentinels, to face a daimon half-blood trained just like you.” Romvi’s voice carried through the room. “I don’t expect most of you to show any improvement by tomorrow. Class is over.”

I fought the urge to jump on Romvi’s back like a monkey and snap his neck. That wouldn’t win me any fans, but the sick sense of satisfaction would almost be worth it.

On his way out, Jackson bumped into me. “Your arm looks like a checkerboard. That’s real hot.”

“Yeah, that’s what your girlfriend said about your di—”

Instructor Romvi’s hand snapped out, catching my chin. “Your mouth, Miss Andros, could also use improvement.”

“But Jackson—”

“I do not care.” He dropped his hand, glaring down at me. “I do not tolerate such foul words in my class. This is your last warning. Next time you will find yourself in the Dean’s office.”

Unbe-freaking-lievable. I watched Romvi stalk out of the room.

Caleb approached me, handing Olivia her gym bag. His eyes, the color of the clearest sky, shone with sympathy. “He’s a prick, Alex.”

I waved my hand dismissively, not sure if he was talking about Romvi or Jackson. They were both pricks in my book.

“One of these days, you’re so gonna snap and kill him.” Luke dragged his fingers through bronze-colored locks.

“Which one?” I asked.

“Both.” Luke grinned as he tapped my arm. “I just hope I’m here to see it.”

“I second that.” Olivia wrapped her arm around Caleb’s. They pretended whatever was going on between them was a casual thing, but I knew different. Whenever Olivia touched Caleb, which was often, he completely forgot about whatever was going on and got this stupid smile on his face.

Then again, a lot of the male halfs got that look on their faces around her. Olivia was stunning. Her caramel-colored skin was envied by most of the halfs. So was her closet. I’d kill to get my hands on her clothes.

A shadow fell over our little group, quickly dispersing them. I didn’t have to look up to know it was Aiden. Only he had the kind of power to send just about anyone running in the opposite direction. Respect and fear did that.

“See you later,” Caleb called out.

I nodded vaguely, staring at Aiden’s sneakers. Shame over Romvi’s little display made it hard to look at him. I worked hard for Aiden’s respect, to prove I did have the potential he and Leon had believed I had the day Marcus had tried to toss me out of the Covenant.

Funny how one person could ruin that in a matter of seconds.

“Alex, look at me.”

Against my will, I obeyed. When he spoke that way, I couldn’t help it. He stood in front of me, his long and lean body coiled. We currently were pretending I hadn’t tried to hand my virginity over to him the night I’d found out I was going to be the second coming of the Apollyon. Aiden seemed to be doing really well with it. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop obsessing over it.

“You didn’t fail.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t seem that way, does it?”

“The Instructors are tougher on you because of the time you’ve missed and because your uncle is the Dean. People look at what you do. They pay attention.”

“And my stepfather is the Minister of Council. I get it, Aiden. Look, let’s get this over with.” My voice was a little sharper than I intended, but Aiden had seen how mortifying this class had turned out. Not like I needed to discuss it with him.

Aiden caught my arm and pushed up the sleeve of my shirt. It had a whole different effect on me. A flutter formed in my chest, spreading a warm flush all over me. Pure-bloods were off-limits to us halfs, which meant what had gone down between us was tantamount to feeling up the Pope or offering Gandhi a roast beef sandwich.

“You should never be ashamed of these scars, Alex. Never.” Aiden dropped my arm and motioned me to the center of the floor. “Let’s get this going so you can rest.”

I trailed behind him. “What about your rest? Don’t you have a patrol tonight?” Aiden was pulling double duty between training me and his Sentinel duties.

Aiden was special. He’d chosen to be a Sentinel, and he’d also chosen to work with me so I wouldn’t be so far behind the other students. He didn’t have to do either, but a sense of justice had propelled him to become a Sentinel. We shared that desire. What made him want to help me? I liked to think he was undeniably attracted to me—like I was when it came to him.

He circled me, stopping to position my arms at mid-level. “You’re holding your arms wrong. That’s why Jackson’s hits kept getting through.”

“What about your rest?” I persisted.

“Don’t worry about me.” He squared off, motioning me forward with one hand. “Worry more about yourself, Alex. This is going to be a tough year for you, and you’re doing triple time in training.”

“I’d have more free time if I didn’t have to practice with Seth.”

Aiden swung forward so fast I barely blocked the blow. “Alex, we’ve been over this.”

“I know.” I stopped his chop. I alternated days between Aiden and Seth, as well as every other weekend. It was like they shared joint custody of me, but I hadn’t seen my other halfyet today. Strange—he usually lurked around nearby.

“Alex.” Aiden moved out of the offensive stance, studying me closely.

“What?” I dropped my arms.

He opened his mouth, seeming to rethink his words. “You’ve been looking a little tired lately. Are you getting enough rest?”

I felt my cheeks burst with color. “Gods, do I look that bad or something?”