56. WTAF
~ VOSKI ~
I found Ronen in the barracks with some of the others, in the bunkroom.
My brothers greeted me as I arrived. I raised my chin to them, but didn’t speak, strode straight up to Ronen and put a hand to his elbow, leaning into his ear as he bent over to roll up a map he had spread on the table, marked with patrol lines.
“I need to speak with you alone. It’s important.”
Ronen’s lips thinned, but he only nodded and kept carefully rolling the parchment to ensure it was straight. “Just a moment.”
His tone was tight and frustrated. He probably thought I was about t inform him myself, or other squad members had been called on mission. Because of my role in the Shadowfang, it wasn’t uncommon for me to notify him when a member of in our squad was pulled away for covert duties.
He took it in stride, but it had to wear him down when things were busy like this. He was forced to find for cover on patrols, or extend squad flights to ensure we didn’t miss important territories.
I admired his steadiness and cool-headed leadership. But sometimes, his apparently lack of concern was more frustrating than a man like Captain Mont, who saw a problem behind every corner.
“Walk with me,” Ronen said quietly, when he’d gathered the map and tied the cord to keep it rolled. We headed for the door together, greeting other Furyknights as we stepped into the hall.
As a squad captain, he had a room of his own right next to our bunkroom, though it was tiny.
Little more than a closet. He had a bed, long enough for his height, but only half-again as broad as his shoulders.
A narrow desk under the window, and a chair to sit at it.
There was a second chair in the corner, next to the hooks on the wall that hung over the shelves where his leathers and other clothes were folded.
He entered, then held the door open for me, closing it behind me when I strode inside.
There was no room to pace here, so I dropped into his chair next to the shelves, while he turned the chair at the desk and sat back in it. “Tell me.”
“You tell me!” I muttered quietly, keeping my voice low enough that no one in the hallway would be able to hear.
“Tell you what?” His expression was tense. Unimpressed.
“Why the hell is Grace being pushed into assessment? We’ve always agreed, Flameborne get as much time as they need for this part—this is the only part we can give them time—”
“Are you chastising me?” Ronen asked softly.
“I’m asking what the fuck you’re thinking, rushing her!”
“Who said she’s being rushed—and why is it your call to ask the question?” he asked calmly, tipping his head as if he were confused.
“Because I’m the one who found her, and I’ve spent the most time with her. I know her best, and I’m telling you, she’s not ready!”
“She’s a damn-sight closer to being ready than Bren was when it was her turn. And you pushed for Bren.”
“Bren had months of prep! Her lack was confidence was the problem, not lack of skill—you agreed at the time—”
“And I agree with assessing Grace, now. Unless you want to challenge the general, who proposed it?”
“No, I—that’s not the point!” I snarled. “Grace doesn’t need more confidence. She’s too bold. She might be physically strong enough by next week, but she doesn’t have the mental fortitude yet.”
Ronen scoffed. “Of all the things Grace has yet to learn, I’d say the mental fortitude is the least of our worries.”
“It’s not fortitude! It’s fear! She’s reckless because she’s terrified of losing her spot or being dismissed. She’ll say yes to anything because she’s afraid of being viewed as a failure. More afraid of that than she is of protecting herself!”
“Well, doesn’t that sound familiar? I seem to remember another Furyknight who was less than responsible with his own safety. And he’s now one of my most skilled and trusted men.”
I sucked in a breath and propped my elbows on my knees. “This isn’t about me—”
“But it must be, because you’re here, talking like you have a right to tell me off.”
“You told me I have a voice! You told me you respect that my rank is—”
“I told you that I understand the tension of having to take orders from a peer, and I try to be thoughtful of that. And respectful of your skill where it exceeds mine. But you and I both know if I tell you to walk the fuck away, you have to do it, so don’t push me.”
“I’m not. I’m coming as a peer, trying to get you to see—”
“You’re trying to take control of a Flameborne that is not yours to manage. She is my report.”
“I brought her here! Her dragon is mated to mine.”
“And you’re the first to tell me that you have no bond with her—”
“Which is why I’m coming to you!”
Ronen sat forward, matching my stance, elbows on his knees, leaning closer, eyes locked on mine, and his expression unimpressed. “Coming, Voski? You arrived. You demanded my time—which you’re right to do when it’s about your unique responsibilities. But Grace is not one of those.”
“I came to ask you to slow down—”
“You and I both know you haven’t asked.”
I went still, heart pumping. Ronen looked angry, which was rare for him. I’d pissed him off. I also knew I was fucking right!
“Then, I’m asking now,” I said through my teeth. “Please put off her assessment. Just a couple more weeks. I’m sure we’ll have more Flameborne by then and—”
“No.”
I cursed and shot to my feet, whisper screaming so the other men wouldn’t hear. “This is insane! Be pissed at me if you want, but you said you want me to call you on your bullshit, so I’m doing it, Ronen. This is bullshit.”
Ronen stood as well, opening a hand toward the door. “This conversation is over. Leave. Come back when you’ve got your head on straight.”
“My head is not turned! I’m prioritizing the good of a subordinate—something maybe you need more practice in?”
Ronen took two steps to stand at my toes, speaking barely above a whisper, his tone dark with warning.
“Donavyn told me what you did in Fyrehold. And I commend that. I would have done the same. But in this place, in this role, I am your commanding officer.” His expression went grim.
“You salute. You keep your mouth shut. You leave. And we’ll talk about this tomorrow. That’s an order.”
“Ronen, please—”
“If you need some kind of reassurance, then know the instructions you’re challenging were given by our general, with my consultation. He trusted me to make the final call—”
“He didn’t trust you with getting his mate out of Fyrehold. He gave that one to me. I’m telling you, you’re wrong on this.”
Ronen’s eyes blazed. “Attention, Furyknight,” he snarled. “You are under discipline at the order of your superior officer and squad captain, and if you don’t shut your mouth and salute right-the-fuck now, we’re going to have a much bigger problem than how many cesspits you have to clean.”
I glared at him, battle raging in my chest.
It was his right. It was his call. And he had done it with Donavyn’s input. But they were going to get Grace killed. Worse, they were putting her in a position to kill herself. I couldn’t stand by and—
Ronen’s chin rose. “Don’t make me do it, Voski,” he muttered.
I trembled with the urge to plow a fist into his face out of pure fury.
‘Voski.’ Kham’s voice was deep with disapproval, and warning.
Something in my chest shrieked as I snapped to attention and saluted him. “Sir,” I muttered through my teeth. “Yes, sir.”
But Ronen shook his head.