9

Die there or train to be a war machine—that was if they were satisfied with Layla’s progress at the end of the school year. If they weren’t, she would die.

It was like being asked to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea. Both options were bad in themselves and had death as the end sooner or later.

If Layla said no, Blaze would chop off her head before she took the next breath. If she said yes, she would either die because she couldn’t control her power at the end of the school year, die in battle with the rebels, or die after because there was no way they would let her live when they had no use of her. No matter the route she chose, she had only one end. Only one came sooner than the other.

“I… I accept your offer.” She breathed, and she felt an invisible cuff placed around her wrists. She didn’t want it; just saying yes felt like she had signed her life as a slave, but it was the only reasonable option she could choose.

‘It’s better I’m alive and searching for a way to esca