Chapter 11
EMERY
It’s four a.m. by the time Cameron is showered and headed to the training room. I consider following him to watch but don’t want to risk seeing Lieutenant Erik again. At least, not until I’m a full-fledged member of the Fury Squad.
I must fall back asleep because the next thing I know a calloused hand clasps around my throat. My eyes fly open. The lights are dimly on, meaning it’s almost six a.m., so I can clearly see who my attacker is.
Wraith.
“You think you can get a free card down here because you’re teamed up with Mori?” His hands squeeze harder around my throat, making me choke out a weak cry, scrambling to get out of his hold.
Bree and Damian glance at one another like they’re considering helping, but a few other men stand around the bed, eagerness in their eyes as they pray for my demise.
I fold my arms over each other, clasping my hands on both elbows before bringing my forearms down as hard as I can against Wraith’s in an attempt to hit his pressure points to open his hands, but he slacks his arms in time and increases the pressure.
Black dots start to cloud my vision. My lungs are on fire, but I can offer them no breath. The sound of my heart slows, and my muscles begin to go limp.
I don’t want the last thing I see to be Wraith’s hateful stare.
I don’t want to die.
Weariness pulls my eyelids shut, and in the next moment I’m bathed in hot liquid. Is this what death feels like?
My eyes slowly open as air seeps back into my throat.
Sound returns to my ears in the form of Wraith’s shouts of pain. My vision unblurs and I’m met with chaos. Arnold is pulling Wraith off the bed, horror written all over his face. Something’s wrong with Wraith’s arm…it’s bleeding. My eyes widen as sharpness returns to my mind with a deep breath.
Wraith’s arm is snapped backward, his humerus bone protruding offensively from his flesh and spurting blood everywhere.
I blink, the motion seeming more dragged out than usual, as if everything is in slow motion.
It’s then that I glance to the edge of the bed and see Cameron taking deep breaths, pupils blown wide, and a metal bar clenched in his hand.
His carotid arteries are raised, his jaw slack as his chest heaves.
Cameron stares at me emptily for a moment before dropping the metal bar. It clanks loudly against the cement floor, and the crowd around us flinches.
He looks like he’s about to snap and start killing people.
I’ve never seen him appear this mentally checked out.
My throat is on fire, but I manage to sit up and slowly stand.
I hesitate to take Cameron’s hand, but I firm my resolve and grab it, leading him out of the barracks and somewhere safer from all the hungry eyes of the other cadets.
I ignore the sticky sensation of Wraith’s blood drying on my skin.
Sure, everyone just witnessed Cameron break Wraith’s arm with a metal bar, but they also see my weakened state, and potentially Cameron’s lack of control at the moment. We need to get somewhere private.
I guide us to the library. It’s barely lit in here this early. The scent of old books and the sudden quiet soothe me. I drop Cameron’s hand and sigh. “Are you okay?” I ask as I lean back against a bookshelf.
When he doesn’t respond, I glance up at him, and my heart drops. He palms his forehead like he’s losing it and lets out a feral groan.
“Cam—”
His hands fly to either side of my head and rattle the bookshelf at my back. Shock tears through me and my jaw trembles as he pounds a fist several times mere inches from my head. Books tumble to the floor in troves around us.
“You’re going to get the whole squad killed! You’re so fucking pathetic it makes me sick. It’d be better if I…if I just—” He shouts in my face so loud it makes my entire body stiffen, tears prickle in my eyes.
I knew he was lying yesterday in the infirmary.
I slap him across the face. He freezes and takes a second to look back at me.
My fists clench at my sides as I prepare to fight to the death, but his arms tremble as he slowly cages me back in.
The ache in his soul is tangible through his hooded eyes and the way his teeth are set into his lower lip.
I unfurl my hands and take a steadying breath as I throw my arms over his shoulders and hold him in a tight embrace. His breath stutters and his body calms, muscles loosening.
“Please stop,” I whisper, eyes shutting tightly as I let his earthy scent warm my senses.
He doesn’t move for a few seconds, as if he’s paralyzed with what he’s doing. Then his hand is pressing against my lower back and a moment later the other wraps behind my neck gently. Cameron doesn’t say anything as we hold each other in the silence of the Under.
“Wake up.”
I sit straight up, eyes wide and panic flooding me. Is Wraith attacking me again? Is the Under collapsing in on itself? After I blink a few times, I realize I’m staring at Cameron’s figure in the dark.
“What time is it?” I whisper, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Four. Get dressed,” he murmurs, tossing my clothes at me. I do as he says and follow him as quietly as I can through the Under and into the weapons block.
His hand is wrapped around my wrist the entire way, guiding me effortlessly so I don’t slow him down. I wish I could see that well. Not willing to take the death pills for it, though.
Cameron doesn’t let go of me until we’re on the sparring mats. I squint my eyes but can still barely make out his figure.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”
He sets his hand on top of my head and turns me so my back is facing him.
I blow out a breath as he separates my hair and starts braiding it.
“It’s clear you have skills when it comes to killing, otherwise you wouldn’t be down here, but it’s also really obvious that you’re much more comfortable with a gun than hand-to-hand combat.
I’m guessing you’ve always had plenty of silenced weapons to aid you in whatever it is you did, along with a long-methodical plan, but you’ll be dead weight in the trials and on a squad if you can’t improve your skills in close quarters and quick decision-making.
” He finishes my braids and flicks them over each shoulder.
It’s embarrassing to be scolded so brazenly, but he has a point. I didn’t know it was that apparent either. My cheeks are warm, but I nod. “So you’re going to train me yourself?” I say with a teasing tone.
He chuckles, and it’s nice hearing it after he was so quiet yesterday following Wraith’s assault and his slip-up in the library.
“I’m going to help you not be a complete thorn in my arse.” He pauses, then adds: “It’ll also be less likely for me to be able to corner you again.” His voice is considerably more modest and draws a wry smile to my lips.
“Ah, the truth.”
“Oh, shut up.” He laughs. His accent makes it impossible not to smile.
He nudges my shoulder, so I back up. “Get into position. I’m going to teach you how to easily escape holds and anticipate attacks based on hearing alone.
You’re all over the place when it comes to your senses and rely heavily on sight. It’s painful to watch, really.”
“Okay, less insults and more productivity. I actually rely on sleep, unlike you.” I glower, hopefully in the right direction. When he doesn’t respond, panic floods me.
A tap and slide of a boot against the floor comes from my right side. I raise my arm, having no idea what or where he’s aiming. I hear the sound of his arm cutting through the air just before his hand taps the back of my neck.
“Dead,” he says with too much amusement for my liking.
“This is stupid. No one fights like this,” I argue and smack his hand away.
He hums and I can hear in his voice that he’s grinning.
“That’s the point. And believe it or not, there are many that do.
You won’t stand a second in a dark room or on a moonless night with other lethally trained soldiers.
What if you get oil in your eyes or”—he gestures to his eye—“slashed in the eye and can’t see?
How will you fight? Will you just give up and die? ”
That earns him a scowl.
“You’re in the pit of devils now, remember? We don’t have ‘killing etiquettes’ or whatever the fuck it is you used to do.”
“You mean I fought with morals like a person with a shred of class?” I say sarcastically. There has to be some sort of ethics, doesn’t there? I like to think that I had morals. If I didn’t have to torture someone, at least I would give them a quick death.
Cameron laughs, his breath warm on my shoulder. My head darts to the side. I didn’t hear him move at all. Focus on listening, I chide myself.
“Yeah, we don’t have those. You think anyone gives a shit how you kill the enemy or how they kill you in the Dark Forces?” He coasts his finger down my spine, and chills erupt across my skin. “Come on, Em, you know better than that. How else would we get shit done?”
A strike to the back of my knee buckles it and sends me to my hands and knees. I grit my teeth and swing my arm behind me, disappointed when I realize I was aiming at nothing.
He pats the top of my head. “Dead.”
I groan.
“Again. Get up,” Cameron orders.
I do. Again. And again. And again.
Until my knees are sore and the backs of my hands are bruised from blocking some of his hits.
I collapse to the ground, breathing hard and glaring. The lights finally flicker on, and I get my hopes up that we’re finished. It slightly ticks me off seeing him so unbothered, hands in his pockets and without sweat clinging to his brow. I’m barely able to catch my breath.
“We aren’t done yet,” he says emptily as he stares down at me with hooded eyes.
“What now?” I dread pushing myself back to my feet. He smirks, the glint in his eye making my center warm. Now I wish it was dark again so I wouldn’t be distracted by his cruel charm.
Cameron moves in close, methodically hooking his leg behind mine and wrapping his arm around my rib cage. “Escape this maneuver. We’ll keep going until breakfast or until you can best me at this.” He sighs. “Your resentful eyes won’t get you any pity, Em.” He chuckles.
This close, he’s staring directly into my eyes, setting everything inside me on fire. His shirt is raised, skin touching mine just above the waist. I inhale sharply and push away any lewd thoughts, especially the ones of him rubbing me on his cock.
“Focus.” His voice falters and his brows knit with restraint.
At least I’m not the only one suffering.
I jerk to the side in an attempt to break out of his hold, but he senses it and nudges his foot toward himself, effectively sending me straight to the ground.
Asshole. I fume as I stand back up and we get into the same stance. This time, I make sure to brush my hip against his crotch. His eyes narrow and he flexes his jaw. I take the moment of his focus being broken. This time I elbow his stomach and twist in his hold.
He makes a grunt, and just when I think I’m going to break free, he catches my arm and takes me to the ground again. This time he’s toppled over me, knee between my thighs and hands pinning both my wrists to the ground.
We both take shallow breaths. A lock of his soft hair falls over his forehead, blocking out one of his eyes as he remains above me.
My chest warms and I become hyperaware of everywhere he’s touching me. He draws a languid line down the tender side of my wrist, his knee nudges my legs apart just enough to press against my center as he leans down.
He dips to my neck, and against all warning flags waving in my head, I tilt my head back and expose my throat to him, hoping for…
Cameron bites my neck.
“Ow!”
He releases my flesh and smiles against my skin. “Dead.”
For the love of God, this man is demented.
“Let me guess, you’ve used that move before.” I turn my head to the side as he leans back and lets go of my wrists. He must see the deep red in my face as much as I can feel it.
He chuckles. “Are you saying you haven’t? Your teeth are a vital weapon.” He stands and offers me his hand. I expect to see a shit-eating grin on his face and am surprised when I find him genuinely smiling at me.
I take his hand and he swiftly pulls me up.
“That’s good for today. I was hoping you’d get it down before breakfast, but we’ll do this again every morning until the trials begin.” He tugs on one of my braids and nods his head toward the door. “Let’s go eat.”