Defect of Servitude [Book #1]

"Use what talents you possess, the woods will be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best."
-Henry van Dyke

I spent a week entrenched in training, hardly leaving the gym except to shower or catch a few hours of sleep. Unintentionally, sleep had taken a back seat. Jaxon tried to hover behind me, his presence warm yet unyielding, but he quickly realized I still wasn't ready to talk. A part of me cowered behind the excuse of needing to be as strong as possible before my first assignment. Yet, deep down, I knew the truth: facing him felt insurmountable.

During one particularly grueling session, my momentary lapse in focus sent me face-first into the mat, my sparring partner's speed overwhelming. Her name was Nikki, and she moved with a fluid grace that left me seething. Even with my newly enhanced eyesight, she blurred into a whirlwind of motion. Anger flared inside me, a familiar default emotion I couldn't shake off. I was pushing myself to unrealistic heights, aware of it yet unable to stop. Each time I hit the mat, I needed to punish myself.

Nikki extended her hand to help me, but I shook my head, scrambling to my feet. Her shoulders shrugged in understanding as she ran her fingers through her honey-brown hair, a small smile dancing on her lips. "Amazing round, Maddie. I've been learning so much from you."

I offered her a tight smile, feeling the weight of my unspoken frustrations. Words weren't what I needed; I craved the fight, the adrenaline coursing through my veins like a drug addict seeking their next high. I walked past her to the small indoor track in the center of the gym, determined to push myself harder to drown out the emotions swirling inside me.

A face-plant required a ten-mile run, and I intended to earn every grueling step. Even with the remarkable speed I had been graced with, I pushed myself to the absolute limit, feeling the muscles in my legs scream for mercy as if they might just fall off from the abuse I heaped upon them.

As I lost myself in the fog of speed, I tuned everything out—every sound, every whisper that had followed me since discovering my new defect status. I could sense the panicked glances from those around me and the faint, distinct smell of fear lingering in the air. I was dangerous now and found a strange thrill in that knowledge for the first time.

After twenty laps, I lost track of how many I'd completed, my breath coming in ragged gasps. When I was about to run out of energy, I noticed a steady figure keeping pace. Slowing my insane dash to a regular run, I glanced beside me to see Harley, his expression focused, silently matching my stride.

We finished five more laps in silence before I finally stopped to wipe the sweat from my brow. My heart was racing from exertion and mixed emotions I couldn't quite name. Harley pulled a towel from his waistband, handing it to me with a slight smile.

"Here, you should really start carrying one around. You look like you just ran a marathon." His light-heartedness cut through the haze, and the weight of my thoughts lifted for a moment.

"Thanks," I managed, grateful for the slight reprieve. "Hey. Are you up for some sparring?" I flexed my arms in a mock show of strength, but we both knew they were still just string beans on two legs—far from the power I aspired to wield.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I think you've sparred enough, Mads. Hand-to-hand combat will only get you so far." With a grin, he pulled something shiny and metallic from his pocket. "The second day you came in here, you seemed fond of these when I threw them at your head."

Curiosity piqued, I leaned closer as he held out his hands, revealing two beautiful knives that sparkled like stars caught in moonlight. A thrill of anticipation coursed through me; who knew I'd develop such an attraction to weaponry?

"Go on," he urged, his voice light, almost teasing, as he gestured for me to take them.As I grasped the knives, the metal felt silky smooth against my palms, cool yet invigorating. They were broad, double-edged, and perfectly balanced, the drilled handle fitting my fingers like they were meant to be there.

"They're platinum, ready to be enchanted at your command. Six and a half inches, perfect for throwing. Also perfect for showing off," he added, a proud gleam in his eye.

Holding the knives felt like having a tangible part of my new identity—a warrior's identity. I couldn't help but grin at the thought of unleashing them with precision. There was something exhilarating about the idea of mastering these weapons, transforming my vulnerability into strength.

As Harley spoke, he retrieved another knife from his pocket, swirling it in intricate patterns that made it dance effortlessly through the air. I watched, captivated, as he expertly guided it with a flick of his wrist, the blade glinting under the gym lights.

For hours, he shared tips and tricks, each piece of advice helping me hone my skills. After a few minor cuts—nothing serious—I finally hit my first target right in the center. Excitement bubbled within me, and I did a small dance, my smile stretching wide. The heaviness built inside of me lightened, and a thrill coursed through my veins as I threw another knife with newfound strength.

"HOLY SHIT! Put a sign or something on the door to warn people about sharp flying objects!" Draven's voice echoed through the gym just as a knife embedded itself in the mat, mere centimeters from his face. My smile faltered, the exhilaration of the moment draining away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Harley watching me, his gaze intent and probing. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he took in my sudden stillness. I could almost hear the unasked questions hanging in the air—why I had started talking to him more but still couldn't bring myself to do the same with Draven.

Truthfully, I didn't have an answer. I was likely blowing things out of proportion, but the memory of Draven's lips against my forehead haunted me. It was an unnecessary distraction, and I was determined not to let it pull me under again.

The air in the room suddenly felt a few degrees colder, the shift in atmosphere palpable. Across the mats, Nikki looked up with a playful grin. "Draven! Haven't seen you around here often. Want to get your ass kicked?"

His smirk was a bit off, almost forced. "Thanks for the offer. As much as I could use a good ass kicking, I'm here for a reason." He cleared his throat, and the few others scattered around the room paused, the air thickening with anticipation. "Those on the Guard, we have a special briefing tonight. A small group of us will be leaving, and those staying must fill the holes in our rotation. Commander Cole will be heading the meeting at oh-one hundred hours."

Draven scanned the room, ensuring nodding heads marked understanding before his gaze landed on me. I tried to muster a smile, to push past the uneasy feeling gnawing at my insides, but it felt wrong on my face. His smile in response seemed just as strained, an awkward attempt to bridge the gap between us. His intake of breath was loud against my newly heightened senses, filling the space between us with tension. Then he shook his head, waved at Harley, and walked away.

The rest of my time was spent dodging Harley's concerned gaze, desperately trying to reclaim that tiny break of happiness I had found earlier. I lost track of time, each knife hitting the bulls-eye sharpening my focus, but the moment was fleeting.

Suddenly, a towel was thrown harshly in my face. "You should go shower. The briefing is in an hour," Harley's voice cut through my thoughts, but his eyes barely lifted to meet mine, his concern unspoken but heavy in the air.

Walking out of the gym showers, I spotted Becca leaning against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed and tapping her foot impatiently. "You're going to be late. Or cutting it very closely."We started walking, but she let out a huff of irritation. "Stop being all quiet, Maddie. It's getting on my nerves."

"Harley's mad at me, I think," I said, scrunching my nose in disapproval. "He knows I'm avoiding Draven, and he's too polite to ask why. It's bothering him." The weight of frustration settled in my chest. "This is just stupid. I'm going out for the first time tonight. I'm actually a little scared. I don't have the patience to deal with this crap."

I threw my hands up in exasperation, but Becca intercepted me, shoving her arm out in front of me, making me slam into her. "You know what, Maddie? Sometimes a best friend's job is to tell the other friend they're being a fucking idiot. And guess what? You're being a fucking idiot."

My mouth unhinged, a small squeak of disbelief escaping me. "Before you say anything else, honey, you need to talk to them. Both of them. Just suck it the hell up and get it over with. I'm sick of this moping around and hiding in the gym crap. Evan and Annie miss you."

My anger deflated instantly, a balloon losing air. I missed them, too; I even missed Becca. I hardly saw any of them anymore, and she hit the nail on the head. I was moping, hiding. It was time to face the reality that I couldn't avoid the Prince forever. I lived in his house. Worked for his Guard.

"Thank you for telling me I'm a fucking idiot," I finally muttered, a hint of a smile creeping onto my face despite my embarrassment. It may be time to stop hiding and start living again.

She slapped her hand against my back and laughed loudly. "Of course! Best friend code. Number seven is thou shalt not let best friends wallow in pity over boys. Even supernatural royalty hotness."

"Ugh, Becca. I swear, sometimes I don't know about you." I couldn't help but laugh with her, the tension in my chest easing slightly. A week was more than long enough to wallow. She gave me a light hug before walking away, leaving me at the entrance to the meeting room. With a defeated sigh, I plastered on a smile and opened the door.

I plopped into my seat next to two people I didn't recognize. The sound of air being pressed out of the chair cushions made half the room turn to stare at me, their curious gazes prickling my skin. I fidgeted under the weight of their stares until I found Draven looking at me. Taking a deep breath, I took Becca's advice and smiled at him, hoping to bridge the gap between us.

Just as I started to feel more at ease, the door slammed open with a force rattling the walls. No one in this house seemed to understand the concept of opening a door without making an indent.

The man I assumed was Commander Cole strode into the room, radiating authority. Every pair of eyes snapped to him as if drawn by an invisible force. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with an ageless allure that screamed vampire. His skin was a deep, sun-kissed tan, and his thick eyelashes made me do a double take—was he really that stunning, or was it just the way the light caught him?

Everything about him was shockingly gorgeous, yet his voice was rugged, thick with power, and smooth with experience, demanding immediate attention. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized I was about to enter a world far beyond my understanding, with people far beyond my realm of familiarity.

He slammed a pile of folders onto the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silent room. "The mission is simple, people. You're to go in and stop the teams before they make it through the portal. If you fail, wait for them to come back through. Take the humans and bring them back here."

I found myself raising my hand, my heart pounding as every set of eyes turned to me like I had just declared war. The Commander hesitated, his brow furrowed in curiosity and caution, but eventually nodded at me.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm new, obviously. Why would we have to bring the humans back here? Why couldn't we just send them back through the portal?" My voice felt small against the weight of the room, but I pushed on, desperate to understand.

"Never be sorry for asking a question." His tone was firm but surprisingly patient. "We aren't permitted to send them back because we try very hard to keep the other world on that side of the portal completely oblivious to ours. We cannot take any risks of them finding out."

The gravity of his words settled over me like a thick fog, and a chill crept up my spine. If we couldn't tell them about us, what lengths would we have to go to to keep our world safe?

He continued talking, passing out folders detailing everyone's roles in the mission. As he approached me, I braced myself for the weight of my assignment. When he dropped the folder on the table, the sound was ominous, a forewarning of what lay ahead. "Madelyn, you'll be a protector for now. You'll watch your group's back and sound the alarm if you notice anything unusual."

I nodded, though a whirlwind of uncertainty brewed inside me. Protect? I'd only just begun to find my footing here. Can I handle the responsibility? As the others murmured their acceptance and began reviewing their roles, I stared at my folder, a mixture of anxiety and determination flooding me.

I opened my folder, and a horde of information spilled onto the table, papers fluttering like startled birds. Pictures of potential enemies stared back at me, their statistics lined up like baseball cards, stark and unyielding. At the very bottom was a photo of Denallsh. His long blonde hair whipped behind him, framing a face twisted into a permanent scowl.

A shiver rippled down my spine, and I caught Draven's eye across the room. I shrugged, trying to play it off, but unease gnawed at me as I continued flipping through the information, desperate to absorb it all.

Once the meeting wrapped up, we filed into the room opposite the exit. Lockers lined the walls, each emblazoned with names, mine included.

When I opened my locker, the rich scent of leather filled the air. Nestled inside was a lush leather jacket that seemed to pulse with its own energy. I pulled it out, marveling at its weight; it felt like nothing could penetrate its thick exterior.

The jacket was striking, with the zipper off-center and snaps to keep the collar in place and out of my way. As I examined it, I noticed a zipper pocket on the left breast and two more on the sides, practical yet stylish. Soft, thick fur lined the interior, inviting and warm against my skin.

Beneath the jacket was an enormous cowl, large enough to shield my entire head, with a flap that wrapped snugly around my neck and mouth. I stared in awe, feeling an unexpected thrill as I shoved my arms through the sleeves. The fur caressed my skin like a comforting embrace, a stark contrast to the tension that had settled in my chest.

As I looked back into the locker, I noticed a pair of matching gloves and a satchel that doubled as a belt for my jeans, complete with a strap wrapped around my leg. My heart raced at the sight; the satchel was filled with an array of my daggers, each color-coded with enchantments. I couldn't help but grin, anticipation and dread bubbling within me.

"Looking fierce, Maddie!" Draven's voice broke through my reverie, a playful smirk on his face.

"Just trying to keep up with the competition," I shot back, my nerves easing slightly at his teasing.

He chuckled, and for a brief moment, the weight of the mission felt a little lighter. "The outfit always makes the females drool a little. No matter the type of female."

Draven's voice had a teasing edge as he strode behind me, balancing a massive box in his arms. "This is a gift for you. From Nan when she found out you were a part of the Guard now."

I tore open the box, my breath catching at the sight within. Nestled in layers of tissue paper was a magnificent pair of black leather boots, each adorned with accessory belts that wrapped around them like armor. The soles looked dense enough to stomp through lava, promising durability and style. "These are perfect! Remind me to thank her repeatedly until my face turns blue."

Draven chuckled, his amusement lighting up his features as I slipped on the boots, adjusting to the weight of the gear and the deep pockets. He stepped beside me, and we walked down a long hallway illuminated by harsh overhead lamps. The glow reflected off the steel walls, creating a blinding shimmer that made me squint.

In the locker room, laughter and teasing banter echoed around us, but as we entered the narrow corridor, the only sound was the heavy thud of our footsteps against the metallic floor. My heart raced, a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing in my chest.

When we finally reached a door seamlessly integrated into the metallic silver wall, Draven hesitated for a fraction of a second before pushing it open. A wave of anticipation washed over me, and I could feel the weight of what lay beyond.

We stepped into a large garage filled with an impressive array of vehicles. My mouth dropped open with a pop as I spotted five glistening black sports bikes in the far left corner. Though I knew little about vehicles, a primal instinct told me these machines were built for one thing only: speed.

Desiree straddled one of the bikes, coaxing it to life with a soft purr. My heart leaped into my chest, panic surging as I realized I had no idea how to operate one of those. Just then, Draven snapped his head to me, concern etched on his face. "You're not driving one, Mads. You can ride with me."

The moment his words reached me, a frown tugged at the corners of my mouth despite my best efforts to hide it. "Or you could go with Harley," he added quickly, sadness flickering in his eyes, and my guilt spiked.

I shook my head vigorously, forcing a smile to chase away the unease. "I'll ride with you. Just try not to kill me."

As I clambered onto the bike behind Draven, he instructed me to wrap my arms around his torso. "You need to hold on tight. Very tight. Also, lean into the turns with me. Just mimic my movements as best you can."

Then, in an exhilarating rush, we were flying. The trees blurred into a kaleidoscope of brown and green, and the wind whipped against my face, making it impossible to close my eyes. Instead, I kept them wide open, soaking in the thrill and the warmth of Draven's body beneath my hands. My heart raced not just from the speed but from the closeness between us, the shared thrill igniting something deep within me.

It wasn't long before the bikes veered off onto an overgrown trail leading into a dense forest. Desiree hopped off her bike, a determined glint in her eyes. "Now, we run. As fast as you can—please, try to keep up."

When my feet hit the ground, an exhilarating wave washed over me. The air caressed my face like a gentle friend, and the sounds of the forest surrounding us—the rustling leaves and the distant chirps of birds—filled me with a sense of freedom I hadn't felt in ages. No master chasing me with chains, no looming threat. Everything was electrified, buzzing with the promise of a future that belonged to me. For the first time since leaving the Academy, I believed I was more than a servile; I was alive.

We halted abruptly in front of a small clearing, the ground beneath our feet a patchwork of moss and earth. At the center stood the portal, magnificent and awe-inspiring. Two giant oak trees intertwined at the canopy, their limbs twisting and jutting in a timeless dance. Runic symbols were etched deeply into the bark, creating a majestic archway. Between them shimmered an almost liquid transparency, pulsating with an ethereal glow.

Draven stepped up behind me, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence a comforting anchor. "Those trees hold a lot of magic. Not only is their canopy connected, but the roots are, too. They both came from the same starting point."

I inhaled deeply, the air thick with an electric energy that sent a shiver down my spine. "I feel like the buzzing of magic is tangible in the air," I murmured, both intrigued and unnerved by the idea of magic brushing against my skin.

Desiree's sharp clap cut through my reverie, drawing every head toward her. "We have ten minutes max before the group arrives to collect the humans. Remember: stop the meeting, kill whoever you have to, and secure the portal so they can't get back until the next scheduled drop, which isn't until three weeks from now."

A tense silence fell over the group as the weight of her words settled in. My heart raced, a mix of excitement and apprehension. We were on the brink of something monumental, and I could feel the pulse of destiny thrumming through the air around us.

Everything fell into a hush, the forest enveloping us in a stillness that felt almost unnatural. An occasional owl called out, its voice echoing from the hidden heights of the trees above, adding to my unease. Something lurked in the shadows that I couldn't quite grasp, reminding us of the unknown dangers.

Suddenly, shadows began to emerge in front of the portal, figures pushing and shoving to gain the best view. A sense of urgency crackled in the air as Desiree counted them, her eyes sharp and focused. Once she was satisfied that everyone was present, she signaled us to surround the group and begin.

The speed at which we moved was astounding. Draven and Harley were so in sync that it felt as if they shared a single heartbeat. They struck the hunters with fluid motions before I could process what was happening. In mere minutes, the threat was neutralized; none of them stirred.

"Good job, everyone," Desiree said, her voice steady and commanding. "Draven, go get the portal tagged. Roslow, collect the bodies. You know what to do. Everyone else, do a wound and weapon check."

As the reality of our actions settled around me, a knot tightened in my stomach. This was the life I had chosen, but violence was still a foreign concept. I glanced at the fallen hunters, their still forms stark against the vibrant forest floor. Did they deserve this fate? A flash of doubt washed over me, but I quickly pushed it away. Focus, I reminded myself. This was about survival.

I stood still, the whispers in my head pulling at my attention. Something wasn't right. My skin prickled with an electric sense of foreboding. One of the hunters' group was missing. Just as the realization settled, a ghostly figure lunged toward Harley.

Instinct kicked in, and I pushed my legs to move faster than I ever had, the adrenaline rush surging through me like fire. I reached him in a heartbeat, yanking the attacker away from Harley before any harm could be done. My breath caught in my throat as I spotted a large dagger protruding from his abdomen.

"Someone get him!" I screamed, the urgency in my voice slicing through the chaos.

Without pausing to think, I launched a kick into the attacker's chest, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my foot as the air rushed from his lungs, leaving him gasping. He staggered back, but I wasn't done. I grabbed the nearest knife, the cold metal steady in my hand, and hurled it with all my might. The blade whistled through the air before finding its mark, piercing his throat. The sickening squelch echoed in my ears, and a rush of triumph flowed through me, quickly followed by a wave of nausea.

As the adrenaline faded and the whispers quieted, the world around me shifted back into focus. Harley was being carried away at an inhuman speed by a man I hadn't yet met, his face a mask of determination. I could hear Desiree on the phone, her voice clipped and urgent, organizing a medical room at the manor for him.

Draven's presence came behind me before he spoke, his voice low and full of awe. "That was amazing, Mads. I've never seen someone react so fast."

His praise settled over me like a warm blanket, yet the moment's thrill clashed with the stark reality of what had just happened. My heart raced, not just from the adrenaline but from the weight of what I'd done. I had fought for Harley, but the implications of my actions swirled in my mind, leaving me breathless.

I spoke quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just hope it was fast enough." My eyes darted to Draven, searching for reassurance before I sprinted back to the bikes. The split second it took him to follow felt like an eternity; every moment stretched as I longed to return to the manor.

When Draven slowed the bike enough, I jumped off and dashed up to the medical wing. The sight of me made my heart plummet. Harley lay in a bed, already stitched up and connected to an IV drip. My throat tightened painfully, a lump forming as I approached. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, starkly contrasting the chaos we had just escaped.

His eyes fluttered open, and when they met mine, he managed a weak smile. "Thank you. So damn much, Mads."

I opened my mouth, ready to downplay my actions and tell him it was nothing—protecting him was my job, my obligation as a friend. But before the words could escape, Annie ghosted into the room. Without a word, she threw herself onto Harley, capturing his lips with a fierce kiss.

The sudden intimacy hit me like a wave, forcing me to retreat. I turned away, seeking to make myself invisible in their moment of reunion. Each step I took echoed the exhaustion coursing through my body, making me acutely aware of how drained I felt.

When I finally stumbled into my room, the covers scattered across the floor from my restless sleep the night before. I collapsed onto the bed, too fatigued to care about tidying up. My body screamed for rest, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, darkness enveloped me.

The next thing I knew, it was morning. I slept without heartache for the first time in a week, slamming me awake. The silence felt foreign, yet oddly comforting, as I basked in the rare peace surrounding me.

Seems like all of her hard work and training has paid off. Madelyn is becoming quite the fighter, but she's still running on anger. Will she find a way past it, or will it consume her? At least she has Becca to let her know when enough is enough!

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