Chapter 28 Trew
TREW
Stone groaned beneath my boots as new training room walls rose around us. Iron braces clanked into place, reinforcing the thick white stone as it climbed, encircling us, separating the Striker group from the others in the training hall.
With a flick of my fingers, the walls sealed.
Weapons hung on the fresh wall racks: blades, staffs, and magic-forged tools that could do considerable damage in the right hands. Four sparring mats remained in the center, set up in a rectangle.
Malcolm hadn’t blinked when I told him I’d be taking this group myself, but he wouldn’t. It wasn’t that unusual for me to work with fresh warriors. I needed to keep my skills as sharp as he and everyone else did.
I should not have stared at Isi when I first entered, however. I could’ve pretended she was any other warrior. But the moment my gaze locked on hers, I felt that wrench in my chest. The snap of something breaking loose.
Fates, the sight of her was a kick to the ribs.
She stood with her back straight, her chin lifted like she could command the sun not to rise.
Her braided golden hair hung in a swish down her back, and the black leathers I’d commissioned for her clinging to curves I’d already memorized.
And that heady defiance in her eyes, as if she was daring me to make her flinch… I could not resist.
She didn’t move when I entered. Didn’t avert her gaze. She met it head-on like a blade kissing a flame.
Fates help me, I’d kissed her. It should’ve been enough. Instead, I craved her even more.
The memory was a brand across my soul, searing hotter each time she looked at me.
I’d made it worse by claiming this team for myself.
I let my expression settle into a mask, but not for her. For Isi, I let the edge slip in. If she was still pretending we were nothing, I could pretend right back.
Her brow twitched the moment I smirked. Perfect. We were both lying now.
I clapped my hands once and let my voice cut through the silence. “First, welcome. If you don’t know, I’m Trew. Second, I want to tell you how proud I am of your achievement. You survived the Rite of Bonds. I’m glad to see you’ve earned your place and your bonded companions.”
Isi winced and glanced around.
No minxpip in the vicinity. I’d already looked. I could speak to the Beast Council about her companion, but I wouldn’t—yet.
“Please introduce yourselves,” I said. “Let’s get the awkward part over with.”
They glanced around at each other, unsure who should start, until a lean man with a scar carved across his cheek stepped forward.
“Crey Vexen,” he said. “My companion is Ashmaw.”
A wyvern about the size of his head perched on his shoulder, his black scales gleaming like polished stone. He dipped his head toward me.
I nodded to them both.
A tall woman with close-cropped black curls and brown eyes gave me a welcoming smile. “I’m Fenna Rell. This is Nexxa.” She dipped her chin to the lizard tucked against her neck. The stone-colored creature blinked once in acknowledgment.
I offered them the same warm welcome. They’d made it through the trials and might be bloodied and battered, but they were alive when many of their friends were not.
The rest knew each other already but they introduced themselves to Fenna and Crey. It was good to see them starting to loosen up, smiling. A few shaking hands. To function well as a team, they had to feel comfortable with each other.
“Every warrior has already proven something most magic-wielders never do.” I swept my gaze across all eight. “You showed restraint. Endurance. Worth.”
I didn’t look at Isi as I said it, but I felt her flinch.
The heat in my chest spiked every time my gaze snagged hers. Fates, I was furious. At her, and at myself. She’d kissed me back, and all I could think about was pushing her against a wall and claiming that sweet mouth again.
Our kiss had meant something. She meant something. I just needed to prove it to her.
I clasped my hands behind my back, pretending her presence didn’t scrape against every nerve I had.
“Welcome to the Strikers,” I said. “Are you ready to get started?”
“Can’t wait,” Bryson said, sending Isi a grin.
“We’ll do some combat training before we break for lunch,” I said. “Your strategy class will take place in the largest classroom attached to the back of the training hall.” I tipped my head toward the arched wooden door behind me.
Eight sets of eyes tracked me. Some nervous. Some eager. Isi’s unblinking.
I gestured to the four sparring mats on the floor. “I’ll assign sparring partners. Crey, you’re with Kerralyn.”
She cringed and eyed the tall man.
“All of us will contribute where we have the most skills,” I said. “Your excellent knowledge of our history has been noted, Kerralyn. But all warriors are required to learn at least the basics in self-defense. Even libraries get attacked on occasion.”
She gave me a pert nod. “I can’t wait to learn.”
“Fenna? I’ll match you with Lexie.”
The two women eyed each other.
“Are you any good?” Fenna asked with a slightly conniving tone.
Lexie rubbed her hands together. “I think we’ll soon find out.”
The two women shared a grin.
“Derren will fight Bryson.” I waved to them both. “Try to go easy on him, will you, Commander?”
“I’ll treat him the same way I do my son.” Bryson leaned closer to Derren, lowering his voice. “That boy learned everything he knows about fighting from me.”
Derren lifted his chin. “I can’t wait to see what you can show me.”
Isi had frozen in place. A smirk filled Maddox’s face.
“That leaves you two,” I said in a clipped tone.
Maddox’s smirk warped into a sneer. “Finally. I’ve been dying to see what our supposed leader is truly capable of.”
I quirked a brow but didn’t call him on it. I didn’t have to. He needed a swift lesson, and this glorious woman would deliver it.
“No weapons,” I barked out. “And if it isn’t obvious, there will be no killing or maiming. You’re members of a team, and you will protect and respect each other at all times. Battling amongst you is reserved only for the sparring mats. Fight with your hands. Your feet. Your bodies. Your minds.”
I drilled Maddox with my gaze.
“If you harm your sparring partner,” I said, “you’ll be responsible for taking them to the healers and taking care of all their needs until they’re cleared to return. That means cleaning their room, fetching them meals, and delivering them any lessons they’ll miss.”
Maddox’s jaw clenched. He knew the warning was for him, and so did everyone else.
When I turned back toward the group, my gaze snagged on Isi.
She stood with her arms loose at her sides, ready and dangerous in a way the others may not realize. I slid my gaze down the line of her throat, taking in the shape of her shoulders beneath the black leather, the subtle dip of the tunic at her waist.
My cock stirred, and I forced my attention away before I lost what little control I had left.
Derren and Lexie shifted on the balls of their feet, exchanging a glance.
I kept my voice even. “Some of you may not have had any training. That’s alright. We’ll help you learn. Today is for seeing what you can do. Show me your best.”
Fenna and Crey nodded. Maddox bounced on his feet, flexing his arms to warm them up.
Isi watched me with a question in her gaze, a warning in the twitch of her jaw.
People moved around in the viewing gallery built into the wall above, on my right. I couldn’t see beyond the gleam of the glass, but I could feel watchers behind it. Probably a few retired warriors who’d remained after the bonding ceremony.
Nostalgia, maybe. Or curiosity.
The mats had been placed close together, though with enough space between them for footwork and falls, plus for me to pass between them to observe from every angle. I wanted to see what they were made of. Not just physically, but analyze their tells. Their instincts.
“Remember the rules. If you hurt someone, you’ll face me.” This was for Maddox, and when he flinched, I knew my message had been received. “Take a mat. Warm up. Then let loose.”
Isi strode over to the second one on my left, stretching out her arms, legs, and neck. Jogging in place before dropping onto the mat to do some push-ups. Sit-ups. Warming up her muscles in the same way she was warming up me.
Standing, she flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulders back.
Even her warm-up showed no wasted stretch, no idle movement.
Everything had been tuned to her own body’s rhythm, as if she knew exactly which muscles she’d call on first. She didn’t fidget, and she didn’t glance around for approval.
She just moved with the quiet certainty of someone who trusted herself to do what was needed.
I’d seen war generals prepare for battle with less discipline.
A bead of sweat trickled down her throat. I wanted to capture it with my tongue. Then pin her beneath me on the mat and see if she’d still meet my gaze with her same unyielding fire.
My pulse kicked up harder, and I bit back the urge.
I strode to the edge of the mats, keeping my expression neutral. But my gaze remained on Isi. She caught it, pinned it, and lifted her chin. She wasn’t only daring me, she was owning me. I hated that she might guess how easily I’d drop to my knees and give her everything.
“When you’re ready,” I said, dragging my gaze from hers. “Alert your sparring partner and begin.”
She moved over to stand on the edge of the mat, shifting her weight from foot to foot, shaking out her hands, her eyes sharp as she assessed Maddox warming up in front of her. Her breath came steady, though sweat trickled across her temple and caught on her jaw.
Since we’d first met, I’d been a wreck. I hadn’t slept well. My dreams were full of her, of her thighs straddling mine, the quiet hitch of her breath when I pinned her beneath me, and the way she’d clung to me when we kissed.
She’d kissed me back.