Back in her room, Eliana lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling as Tristan's words replayed in her mind. She had assumed Keith was new to the academy like her, but if he had previous combat partners, he must have been here longer. What had Tristan meant by that? She could just ask Keith, but that might risk the small trust they had built. He was her only ally, and she couldn't afford to lose that. Besides, Tristan might have said it just to mess with her. She couldn't trust him either. Keith, at least, had been helping her.
Another thought gnawed at her. If she hadn't run away, would she have let Tristan go down on her? The idea made her stomach twist. She had zero experience with anything like that, but one day, she wanted to. Just not with him. She had to keep her head straight and avoid being alone with Tristan—or any of the other men in this academy. It wasn't helping that they were all so infuriatingly attractive. She was just a girl, and no matter how much she hated this place and the people in it, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. A ridiculous fantasy of one of the mentors rescuing her and whisking her away to the moon played in her head. With a groan, she forced herself to sleep. She had to stop with these silly thoughts.
The next morning, she found out why everyone here looked so damn good.
Sunday was… spa day.
She stood in a massive room lined with small pools and lounge chairs. Doors led to saunas, steam rooms, private suites, and more. Her disbelief was palpable. "This is ridiculous. First, they teach us to kill, and now this?"
Keith, standing beside her, didn't look the least bit surprised. "Don't be fooled. This is part of the training. The better you look, the more charming you are, and people like you more. Pretty privilege makes an assassin's job easier. You'll often have to flirt your way through missions, use your face and body to get people alone."
As unsettling as it was, it made sense. No wonder seduction was a class here—one she had conveniently missed last week after being knocked out in combat training. They were being taught to lure people in, only to slit their throats.
"I need to get my beauty treatment now. See you later for training." Keith gave her a small nod before disappearing through one of the many doors.
She considered asking him about what Tristan had said, but before she could decide, someone stepped up beside her. The blond mentor with the perfect smile—Theodore.
"Ready to get beautiful, love?" he asked, flashing a grin that was a little too bright, implying she wasn't already.
She shifted uncomfortably. Theodore made her feel at unease with his smiles and charming self. "Whatever."
She followed him down the hallway, finally getting a good look at him. The resemblance to Tristan was obvious.
"I… I heard Tristan is your brother."
"Ah, so you've met the troublemaker," Theodore mused, his voice dripping with amusement. "Don't let him get to you. He likes to play—especially with cute little girls like you." He winked.
Her frown deepened, but she couldn't stop the blush creeping onto her cheeks. Annoying.
"I wanted to know if I can trust him," she muttered.
"I'd say yes, but to believe my answer, you'd have to trust me first."
Damn him. He was right. She didn't trust him either.
Theodore opened a door, leading her inside. "Enough chit-chat. Today, you'll get your first beauty treatment. We'll be making a few… enhancements. Just relax and let yourself be surprised."
Her stomach twisted. "What exactly are you changing? I like how I look."
"We'll enhance you," Theodore said simply, giving her a once-over. "And trust me, it's needed."
The words stung more than she wanted to admit. Pushing down the sudden self-consciousness, she scrambled to change the subject. "How do you know these women won't talk about this place?"
"They don't leave this place," he said, matter-of-fact. "That way, no information gets leaked. Now, just listen and do as they say. You'll be fine." He took her hand, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles before flashing that damnable charming smile. "Excuse me, love."
With that, he left.
Her face burned. Theodore was dangerous—perhaps the most dangerous of them all. He made her head spin and her heart race, and that was a problem.
She turned to the two women in white uniforms, their faces hidden behind masks. "Hi, my name is Eliana. Can I ask you some questions?" Maybe she could get some more information about this place out of them.
Neither of them responded.
Instead, they moved toward her and, without warning, started undressing her.
"Hey! What are you doing?!"
"Clothes are in the way," one of them said flatly.
Eliana barely had time to react before they guided her toward a chair—one that looked eerily similar to a dentist's chair. Panic crept in.
Something wasn't right.
Before she could protest, cold metal restraints clamped around her wrists and ankles.
"There's no need for that! I'm not going to run or anything," she snapped, her voice laced with unease.
"It is needed," one of the women said.
The other wheeled over a table filled with strange-looking devices. Eliana's breath hitched. Dane's words echoed in her mind—special technologies, advanced medicine, things normal people didn't know about.
Her pulse skyrocketed. "What are those? What are you going to do?"
Silence.
Without warning, a needle pierced her skin.
"Hey! What the hell was that? You can't just inject me with—"
Her words cut off as her body tensed. Her breath quickened. Panic clawed at her chest.
She struggled against the restraints, but it was no use. Of course, this wouldn't be a normal spa day. Nothing in this hellhole ever was.
The women moved in, grabbing their instruments. And then—
Pain. Blinding, searing pain.
Her screams filled the room.