Meanwhile,

Aria

The training courtyard of the Blackwood estate smelled of scorched ozone and sweat. I moved in a blur of black silk, the weight of the butterfly knives in my hands feeling like an extension of my own nervous system. Leo - the blue-eyed boy I had pulled from the mud of the Slave Pits - was currently trying to keep his head attached to his shoulders.

He had come a long way from the shattered youth who used my dagger as a crutch. His frame had filled out with lean, functional muscle, and the haunted look in his eyes had been replaced by a focused, lethal loyalty. He...