11. Lyra

11

LYRA

I can't stop thinking about Sariel. His touch, his scent, the way his body felt against mine. It's like a fever dream, something that couldn't possibly have happened. But the lingering ache in my muscles and the memory of his golden eyes boring into mine tell me it was all too real.

I shake my head, trying to clear these dangerous thoughts. I can't afford to be distracted, not when I'm so close to achieving my goal. The next trial looms ahead, and I need to focus.

As I make my way to the training grounds, I spot Sariel across the courtyard. He's talking to another xaphan official, their heads bent close together. My heart skips a beat, but I force myself to look away. Something about their secretive stance sets me on edge.

During training, I catch Sariel watching me more closely than usual. His gaze follows my every move, and I can't tell if it's out of concern or something more sinister. When he approaches to correct my form, his touch lingers a moment too long. I flinch away, remembering how those same hands explored my body just days ago.

"Is something wrong, little nexari?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

I meet his eyes, searching for any hint of warmth or genuine care. But all I see is that same cold, calculating look he gives all the human candidates. "No." I can't keep the bite out of my voice. "Everything's fine."

He nods, but I can tell he doesn't believe me. As he walks away, I can't shake the feeling that he's playing some kind of game. Why would a high-ranking xaphan officer be interested in a human like me? It doesn't add up.

As I cross the training area, I overhear snippets of conversation between Sariel and another overseer. They're discussing the next trial, and I swear I hear the words "impossible" and "eliminate" being thrown around. My blood runs cold. Are they planning to sabotage us?

I want to trust Sariel, to believe that what happened between us meant something. But every instinct screams at me to be careful. He's still the enemy, still one of them. And I'm just a human fighting for a chance at a better life.

"Lyra!"

My head snaps up, Sariel's eyes trained on me as he approaches. I try not to let any emotion show on my face as he does.

"Let's train," he says, turning on his heel. I should have expected this with the way he's been training with me, but my stomach still drops. I'm not sure I can handle being this close to him right now.

Still, I follow Sariel to a secluded training area, my heart racing with a mix of anticipation and dread. As we begin our one-on-one session, I can't help but notice the way his muscles ripple beneath his shirt, the graceful power in his movements.

"Focus, Lyra," he barks, snapping me out of my daze. "Your life depends on getting this right."

I nod, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. But every time Sariel comes close to adjust my stance or demonstrate a technique, my skin tingles with awareness. His scent envelops me, a heady mix of something crisp and masculine that makes my head spin.

"Again," he commands, and I repeat the complex series of movements he's teaching me. My muscles burn with exertion, but I push through the pain. I can't afford to show weakness, not now.

Suddenly, Sariel's hand is on my lower back, gently correcting my posture. The touch sends a jolt through my body, and I stumble.

"Careful," he murmurs, steadying me. For a moment, his golden eyes soften, and I catch a glimpse of genuine concern. It's gone in an instant, replaced by his usual stern expression, but it's enough to make my heart flutter.

I shake my head, angry at myself for these traitorous feelings. Sariel is the enemy. He's one of them, the beings who've oppressed my people for generations. And yet...

"You're improving," Sariel says, interrupting my thoughts. "But you need to be faster, stronger. The next trial won't be easy."

I nod, swallowing hard. "I know. I'm trying."

"Trying isn't enough," he snaps, but then his voice softens. "You need to survive, Lyra."

The use of my name, so rare from him, makes my breath catch. I look up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, I see something there that makes my heart race. Concern? Affection? I can't be sure.

As we continue training, I find myself torn between my growing attraction to Sariel and my determination to succeed in the trials. Every touch, every word of praise or criticism, sends my emotions into a tailspin. I know I should be focused solely on surviving, on winning my wings and changing my family's fortunes. But I can't deny the pull I feel towards this complex, often cruel xaphan who seems to be softening towards me.

I stumble away from Sariel, my legs shaky and my lungs burning. "Get some water," he orders, his voice gruff but not unkind. I nod, grateful for the reprieve, and make my way to the edge of the training grounds.

As I gulp down water from a nearby station, I hear Sariel barking orders at another group of candidates. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I turn to watch.

What I see makes my blood run cold.

Sariel looms over a group of humans, his wings spread wide, casting an ominous shadow. His face is twisted into a snarl, all traces of the gentleness he sometimes shows me gone.

"Pathetic," he spits at a young man who's collapsed on the ground. "Get up, or you'll be eliminated right here."

The man struggles to his feet, only to be knocked down again by a swift kick from Sariel. I wince, remembering the strength behind those legs.

"You call yourselves worthy of wings?" Sariel's voice carries across the field. "You're nothing but vespids beneath our feet."

He grabs a woman by the arm, yanking her forward. She cries out in pain, but Sariel doesn't relent. "Show me you deserve to be here," he hisses, forcing her into a brutal sparring match.

I watch, horrified, as Sariel systematically breaks down each candidate. He's relentless, pushing them far beyond their limits. Some are left bruised, others fighting back a sob as he tosses them out of the way.

This is the real Sariel, I realize. Not the one who saved me from falling, not the one who touched me with surprising gentleness. This cruel, merciless being is who he truly is.

My stomach churns, and I feel sick. How could I have been so foolish? To think that he might care for me, that there might be something special between us. It was all a lie, a game he was playing.

I turn away, unable to watch anymore. My mind races, trying to reconcile the Sariel I thought I knew with this monster before me. The sound of another candidate's pained cry makes me flinch.

This is what the xaphan really think of us. This is how they see humans. As nothing more than playthings, objects to be used and discarded at will.

I clench my fists, anger and determination surging through me. I won't be fooled again. I'll win these trials, earn my wings, and prove them all wrong. And I'll do it without Sariel's help or anyone else's.

Over the next few days, I throw myself into training with renewed vigor, pushing my body to its limits and beyond. Every muscle aches, every breath burns, but I refuse to give up. The memory of Sariel's cruelty towards the other candidates fuels my determination. I won't let myself be another victim of his games.

It's the third day in a row that I have avoided him. I refuse to look at him, ducking out of the way as he approaches. He wants to train me, I know, but I can't understand why. And I need to keep away from him to keep my head clear.

As I practice a particularly difficult maneuver, I catch sight of Sariel watching me from across the training grounds. His golden eyes are unreadable, but I feel their weight on me like a physical touch. I stumble, losing my focus for a split second.

"Dammit," I mutter, steadying myself. I can't afford these distractions.

But even as I try to concentrate, my mind wanders back to Sariel. The feel of his hands on my skin, the intensity in his eyes when we were alone.

It's all a lie , I remind myself fiercely. He doesn't care about you. He's just playing with you, like he does with all the humans.

Yet a traitorous part of me wonders if there's more to it. The way he saved me from falling, the gentleness in his touch during our private training sessions. Could it all be an act?

I shake my head, disgusted with myself. These feelings, whatever they are, are dangerous. They're clouding my judgment, making me second-guess everything I know about the xaphan and their true nature.

As I move through the training course, I can't help but imagine Sariel's hands guiding me, his voice offering encouragement. The thought makes me falter, nearly causing me to lose my balance on a narrow beam.

"Focus, Lyra," I hiss to myself. "Your wings are what matter. Nothing else."

But even as I say the words, I'm not sure I believe them anymore. The image of Sariel's face, twisted in cruelty as he berated the other candidates, flashes through my mind. Is that really who he is? Have I been so blinded?

I land the final jump of the course, my chest heaving with exertion. As I catch my breath, I realize with a sinking feeling that these conflicting emotions about Sariel are doing more than just distracting me. They're actively jeopardizing my chances of earning my wings.

I need to stop thinking about this xaphan. I've made a mistake letting him in so close. Now, I just need to get through these next two trials and keep away from him.

If I don't, I can't stomach what might happen…