The holds are spaced far enough apart that I have to jump between them, each leap making my heart seize in the moments where nothing but the tiniest groove in the stone stands between me and a terrible fall.

This course was built for men twice my size. My breaths are getting shorter and my muscles are burning. I started this course with a disadvantage, and it’s starting to take its toll. I need to finish this quickly.

With the last of my strength, I leap from foothold to foothold, using only my hands for balance. It’s reckless, but it shaves precious seconds off the time I would have spent dangling on this wall between jumps. I continue like this, until the end looms above me.

I grab onto a bar bolted into the edge of the top platform. This is it. I made it.

Rather than just pull myself up, I use the last of the strength in my legs to push off the wall into a handstand, flipping my feet over my head just as I let go of the bar.

I land on my feet at the top and dust myself off.

Let no one say I don’t know how to finish in style.

I must be a sight to behold. There’s mud all over my button-up shirt and sweat is pouring down the back of my neck. My scalp burns where my hair was torn from my head, and my hands are blistering before my very eyes.

I gave it everything. If it wasn’t enough … then at least I can say I really did try my best.

I catch sight of the crowd below as I start the slow descent down a ladder on the other side of the platform.

It’s not just recruits like me. There are teachers, students, and from the pressed suits and abundance of weapons peeking out from inside coat pockets and slung over shoulders, a decent number of active monster hunters too. They’re all staring at me, slack-jawed—except for the three boys I followed here.

They’ve left their post at the start of the course to ogle me too, but they don’t look impressed. From the identical scowls they wear, I’m guessing they don’t appreciate my one-upping them.

No one claps or applauds; I’m not sure if they’re supposed to. As soon as my feet touch the earth, I spot the two security guards pushing their way up through the crowd—but they don’t grab me. One of them presses a finger to his ear, nods in acknowledgement of some instruction given there, and then beckons the second one over to his side. They say something to one another and then glance my way once before slinking back into the shadows of the forest.

I take it as a good sign.

I hang to the back of the crowd until their attention turns elsewhere. Another girl has tried copying my method of climbing the axes on the last challenge, but she’s gotten stuck and can’t seem to will herself to make the first jump.

I take the opportunity and try to slip into the midst of the crowd in the hopes that I’ll be forgotten long enough to go fetch my backpack. I should have enough time before the next trial starts. I’ve nearly made it to a break in the trees where I can sneak away when someone taps my shoulder to stop me.

“What?” I snap in a whisper, trying not to draw any more attention to myself. It’s the boy who did the course before me—and also the one who stepped out to stop of the security guards when they were trying to catch up to me earlier. He’s sweating and grinning and holding my backpack. I snatch it out of his hand.

“How did you find this?”

He steps away, looking taken aback. “I—I saw you hide it right before I started the course,” he says. “I didn’t want you to forget it.”

“I knew where it was,” I say. I know I’m being too harsh, but I blame all the adrenaline. Now that my pulse is slowly returning to normal, I have to force the rest of me to calm down. I shift a little where I stand, and add a hasty, “But thanks”.

“I’m Sawyer, by the way.”

I look at him. He’s taller than me by a few inches, with short, light-brown hair and matching eyes … and the perfe

ct amount of stubble. He brushes some of his hair out of those eyes with a grin.

He’s gorgeous.

I feel my stomach lurch and quickly glance away, cheeks warming. We stand in awkward silence as the last of the recruits, the three boys that ran past me in the hall, finish the course once the girl who got stuck is safely rescued.

I’ve just started to wonder why no one else has started heading towards the next trial when I spot the test administrator; the same one I basically assaulted in order to have a chance at the course. He’s moved up to the front of the crowd and all the other recruits are gathering around him.

“What’s he doing?” I ask, nodding up to the front.

“Announcing who made it through to the third trial,” Sawyer says, moving to stand a little closer to me. “He’s bound to call you. You did amazing. Riding the axes? Genius!”

“But I missed the first goddamn trial,” I say. I can’t take the compliment yet. Not when there’s still a chance I won’t make it to the next one, even after all that.

We push forward towards the other recruits. As the administrator starts reading out names, the respective recruits start moving up on the scoreboard overhead. A line divides the list in half—those that will continue on to the next trial, and those who will not.

Tags: Eden Beck The Monster Within Fantasy
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