10. CHAPTER 10
I returned to my squad and bunk the next morning.
I had physical limitations that I worried would annoy my platoon.
The week wasn’t physically demanding, which I needed.
We mostly learned about various military weapons.
By the end of the week, we practiced throwing daggers.
Since my right arm was still recovering, I swung with my left hand.
Strangely, my left arm needed this practice.
I hadn’t noticed that my left arm was much weaker than the other.
Ophelia and I were walking to the dining hall for lunch. She kept giving me this smile like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if she should.
“Come on out with it?” I said.
“Oh, I don’t know if it’s my place.” She reminded me how quiet and reserved she was.
“You saved my life, we are friends.”
“You and… Zane… What is the deal?”
“Oh,” I swallowed, taking in a deep breath, “I am not sure, honestly. He believes we are… Anam Cara?”
“Mates?”
“Yeah, I guess other places have different names for it.”
“Hmm, what do you think?”
“I think he is an exceedingly good-looking male, and when I first locked eyes with him, it felt like lightning shot through my whole body. I didn’t grow up being told about this.”
“As a family of Healers, we learned early on that true mates are meant for only one person to complete their soul. Most people never find theirs, but that doesn’t mean they can’t love others. When two souls are destined to be together, both feel it the moment their eyes meet.”
“What if one of us doesn’t want it? We don’t accept it.”
“You will always be drawn to each other, even if you’re not physically together. You'll feel and sense each other. Some people have rejected the bond of a mate, and it takes a part of their soul.”
“Why do people reject the bond?”
“I only know what I was told, but my grandma mentioned that sometimes people find their soulmate after they're already married with children. In a few cases, it happens because they couldn’t get along or because one partner wasn’t a good person.”
“What do you think?”
“When I saw you both in the infirmary hall, I knew by the way your eyes lit up for each other. I also think it’s better for fewer people to know. A mating bond can be used against one of you. The stronger the bond, the more vulnerable you are.”
“Oh… what should I do?”
“OH, I can’t help you there. You have to figure out the path you’re on. I can only walk alongside you.”
“My mom was a Healer, though she never discussed it. When I arrived here, I wasn't eager to pursue a relationship, as I tend to fall deeply for people too fast.”
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
“When he's around, it feels like home. I want him, but a part of me is screaming we don’t really know each other.”
“Maybe, just take it day by day, see where it goes.”
“Yeah… Thanks for this.”
We entered the bustling dining facility, grabbed our food eagerly, and found seats with the rest of our squad.
A chill ran down my spine as I looked behind me.
There he was, standing against the back wall, watching me intently.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. All other cadets ate in Dining Facility Two.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and he winked at me .
Did he just fucking wink at me? I was sure I was about to fall hard for him. I felt it deep in my bones. He turned and left the dining hall, glancing back over his shoulder.
I pushed to my feet, gave my squad a nod, and hurried to put my tray away. My calf burned with every step, a sharp reminder I wasn’t fully healed. I slipped through the exit door—and a hand caught me, yanking me aside.
Lightning tore through my arm, racing straight into my chest. He pulled me in, and I dragged a breath deep into my lungs, forcing my eyes down. Lavender and pine clung to him, sharp and clean, and the scent tangled in my head. My heart hammered double-time, rattling my ribs.
His fingers hooked under my chin, tilting my face up. My gaze collided with his—ashen blue, unyielding. Another jolt ripped through me, my skin sparking. His hand slid to the back of my neck, steady, insistent, drawing me closer. Our mouths hovered less than an inch apart, breath brushing breath.
Everything inside me urged me to kiss him, to taste him, to feel his lips against mine. He took a deep breath and growled softly. Oh gods, this would wreck me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved my lips to his. I only lived once.
He kissed me slowly and passionately. He pulled back slightly and sucked on my bottom lip, then pressed his tongue into my mouth, caressing my tongue with tender intensity.
I had goosebumps all over, and my hair stood up on my arms. Every part of me wanted to rip his clothes off, but I held onto the tiny bit of self-control I had right now.
He reached down, grabbed my ass, and lifted me.
I wrapped my legs around him. He spun us around, pressed me against the wall, and started kissing my neck slowly and so gently.
He gently set me down and stared into my eyes.
“I… we… can’t.” He let out a low growl.
“I mean, I am not saying no…” I whimpered to him.
“I want to, trust me, I want to rip the clothes off your body, lick every part of you. I want to make you scream my name over and over again. ”
“But?”
“You need to get back to class, and I really want our first time to be more than what I can offer out here. I want privacy.”
“Fair… maybe we should date first?”
He let out a chuckle. “Yeah, maybe.”
I gently pushed him away and headed back to class.
***
Week seven was about to begin, and we would be expected to spar with weapons. I was a little nervous, to be honest, since I was still healing. My right arm was still tender, but I was able to use it.
Our weekends involved less training and more freedom. I was sure that freedom did not include fraternization. Still, I was sure many cadets in our platoon hooked up—they did not hide it well. It was obvious when you entered the same bathroom minutes apart and emerged shortly after.
Growing up on different forts, reckless as a teenager, I picked up tricks fast—ways to get by, ways to get what I wanted.
Maybe everyone knew back then, but I wore them like armor.
My father couldn’t control me, no matter how hard he tried.
I shut him out, stubborn and set on chasing my own wants.
Every time my off again boyfriend was on, he was relieved, though his disapproval never softened.
Day two of sparring began, and I was not called to spar the previous day, but I knew I would participate today.
Despite my restricted training, practicing with a weapon remained essential for passing basic training.
Our squad gathered around a single mat. Jeremy was called to spar against Blaze from the fifth squad, who had also encircled the mat to watch.
Jeremy removed his shirt, revealing his toned, attractive physique.
He stood six feet tall, had light brown skin, and short black hair.
A stunning wolf tattoo covered his left pectoral muscle, with tribal symbols extending from it onto his shoulder and upper arm, symbolizing his Shapeshifter heritage .
Blaze followed suit and removed his shirt, revealing all of his majestic wings.
His physique was more defined than Jeremy's, which didn’t surprise me because Drusearons began training as soon as they learned to walk.
Blaze stood about three inches taller than Jeremy.
He had pale, luminous skin and long, sandy blonde hair that reached his shoulders.
On his back, tribal tattoos wrapped around his wings.
They both stood on the mat facing each other, dancing around while holding a dagger in each hand.
The daggers we used for sparring were dull but still sharp enough to cut.
During our lessons last week, we learned how to inflict both lethal and nonlethal wounds.
It was clearly emphasized that sparring should be nonlethal.
Jeremy extended his arm, and his dagger struck Blaze’s left wrist, causing bright red blood to start oozing immediately onto his hand and the mat.
He still held his dagger, though not as tightly as before.
He moved forward and aimed at Jeremy’s upper arm.
Jeremy quickly dodged, spun around, and ended up behind Blaze, striking his calf.
Fuck, that looked like it hurt. It definitely made my own calf ache in sympathy.
Blaze dropped to his knees. For a breath I thought he’d faltered, but Jeremy only stepped back, waiting for him to rise. Wrong move. Blaze sank lower, body spinning quick as a strike, and his dagger drove straight into Jeremy’s foot.
Jeremy roared, the sound raw and animalistic.
My stomach clenched, eyes going wide as the blade punched deep.
He crashed to the floor, clutching his foot, blood already pooling beneath his grip.
Blaze didn’t give him time to breathe. He sprang up, slipped behind Jeremy, one bloody hand braced across his chest, the other pressing cold steel to his throat.
Jeremy froze. Both daggers slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor. Surrender.
My heart pounded hard in my ears. It sucked watching a squadmate drop, but gods, the move had been brutal—clean, decisive, merciless. Impressive.
“Auriella Blackcreek & Arya Smithden. ”