CHAPTER SIX
THE ACHE IN MY CHEST doesn’t ease the farther I stride away from Ravina.
Every part of me is begging to let go, to take her, to own her body in the only way mates can, but I can’t.
I won’t risk getting thrown back into my past and hurting her.
I would never forgive myself. The bond will just have to cope with being really, really good friends.
Even the thought of just being friends has my possessiveness taking over. I want to be the one giving her kisses and subtle touches during the day, sharing her bed with her at night. My fist slams into the brick of the wall, dust pluming out around me as crumbs of pale stone clatter to the floor.
Maybe…
No.
I can’t and won’t risk her.
My feet carry me outside into the training yard and I don’t stop, not until my fist connects with the training targets.
Thankfully Aemon opted into purchasing the metal ones for myself and the other Vopn Fo warrior on the grounds: Ember, my mate’s friend.
She and Ravina seem to have a tight bond like that of sisters, like myself and my brothers in all but blood.
“You know, if you just let her in then you wouldn’t be pounding the target into oblivion,” says the friend in question as she ambles across the yard.
I growl, my fist connecting again, my magick flaring around me. “Not happening,” I grumble. “Drop it.”
She shrugs, unbothered by my surly attitude. “Are we continuing with training?”
It doesn’t seem as if she’s leaving me alone to fester in my own misery.
I wonder if Rav has told her… No, she wouldn’t have.
It’s most likely Ember already understands.
After all, she is from my province. We’ve all heard the ‘rumors’ of how my father has treated me and everyone else.
Most Vopn Fo parents are harsh and unforgiving with their fledglings.
Our magick isn’t as versatile as other bloodlines and so we seem to overcompensate with brutality.
It’s ingrained in our spirit. Our magick craves it.
“No, today we will be inspecting the troops.” This has been something I’ve taken over for Aemon since we arrived here after fleeing Phixmery and the Lords. Something I know. Something I can do. War, fighting, training… I feel like it’s all I’ve known for the past twenty years. That and pain.
She moves past me with the grace of a warrior towards the barracks where my inspection will begin. Nothing says discipline like a clean living quarters. “Well if you won’t talk about Ravina, we better get moving,” she snips.
A growl slips past my lips. The female infuriates me, but she’s grown on me.
Maybe it’s the kindred spirit of battle-ready origins or the fact we share a common fae.
Probably the latter. Either way, Ember and I have settled into our own training routine while the others focus on their magick.
We train and keep the troops in line while they wait for orders to be called to the front lines, which could be any day, especially after recent events.
Some days Ravina joins us to hone her own Vopn Fo abilities, and those are the days I look forward to.
Where I can put my hands on her, teach her, help her become stronger, so if Fates-forbid her mates fall…
that I fall, she can take care of herself.
We arrive at the barracks and see fae lounging about in the middle of the afternoon. I force air up my throat, clearing it.
Ember falls in line beside me as warriors jump up and rush to the end of the beds, standing at attention.
“Inspection,” I growl. “Every infraction I find is an extra lap and an extra ten minutes of training.”
A few of them fidget and it nearly brings a grin to my lips.
I nod to Ember and we slowly begin making our rounds of the barracks.
Each room we enter, I give the same speech, and by the end of it they have an extra fifteen laps and two and a half hours of extra training.
It seems they’ve been lax since I’ve been away, and that pisses me off.
Standards and discipline keep your military from falling apart.
I may need to add on an extra thirty minutes as a reminder.
Most of Aemon’s division is spread around Vathia, protecting his province while only leaving a small company of newly seasoned warriors here to guard his home.
It’s understandable since we are at war, but I’ll need to have a talk with him about keeping a smaller group of elite warriors around since our mate is here and things have escalated even more.
Nowhere is safe, not if Lord Craven has a Skuggi fae caught in his snares.
I leave the barracks and re-enter the training yard where Ember has gathered the company and calls them to attention at the sight of me. With a nod, I dismiss her and she falls in line at the front of the first platoon.
“Is this what you call pride? I leave for a week and everything goes to shit?” I snap and silence greets me.
Good. “From now on, your training regime is going to be tougher. In case you’ve forgotten from being behind these walls, we are at war.
The fate of our realm is at stake. Your brothers in arms are laying their lives down to protect your friends and families and you can’t even keep your Fates-forsaken spaces clean. ”
None of them bristle at my harshness as I continue to call them out, but there is no room for softness when the realm, my friends and my mate are at stake.
Even if I can never have her. So, to keep my mind away from her soft curves, her mischievous smile and her tempting touches, I do what any good leader would do and get into the mud with them.
One fuck up is everyone’s fuck up, and I will do what my father never did and lead by example.
Because if they fucked up then I’m not doing a good enough job.
Every push up, every lap, every single drill, I do with them, and by the end of the day I’m ready for a hot shower and some food, even though I know after a vigorous day of training my body still won’t let me rest.
My gaze falls across the company of warriors looking worse for wear, but it’s nothing some rest and fuel won’t fix. “Good job. Keep your barracks clean and I’ll see you here bright and early tomorrow. Dismissed.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Rozen lingering in the shadows of the wall, nearly bouncing on his toes as he eyes Ember like a lost puppy. It’s been the same with those two for a while and it’s completely obvious they’ve been fucking, but it’s not my business.
Ember gives me a nod as I pass and pretends to clean off her sword as if she doesn’t see the male waiting for her in the shadows. I always pretend I don’t notice, so I don’t know why I decide to tease her this time. “Seems you got yourself a stalker,” I grunt, putting away my blade.
She freezes before she smirks. “Takes one to know one. Are you ever going to go into Rav’s room or just stand outside of it like a guard instead of her mate?” Her brow raises.
A growl reverberates out of my mouth. “Keep that shit to yourself.”
She shrugs, the smirk not leaving. “Then Roz was never here.” She laughs but it’s understandably not as bright as normal. Especially with all the death and carnage as of late… with their friend now gone. And this is only the beginning.
With me spoiling their ruse, she places her training blade on the rack before heading towards the male. A male I suddenly want to punch in the face.
A shiver goes through me and it dawns on me that I think of the female like a sister, and now I truly want to pulverize Rozen’s face. “Not my business,” I mutter, “Not my fucking business.”
I FIND MYSELF drawn to the library again.
It seems to be a nightly routine, and I’m not sure if it’s because part of me wants to run into the little warrior whose hold on my heart might as well be crafted of iron: it’s agony and bliss all at the same time.
My skin practically crawls with the anticipation and fear of her touch again, of her lips on mine.
She’s like an addiction, and I know it’s only going to end in pain. Just like everything else.
The door to the small Vathian library snicks shut behind me and the calming scent of books and burning wood from the fireplace washes over me, relaxing my frayed nerves just a fraction.
Not even a moment later I hear murmured voices that sound like my brothers’, and my heart rate increases with this hope I can’t stop from consuming me: I pray she’s there with them.
Yet as I round the corner I’m met with disappointment.
She must still be sleeping. But if they’re here, who is with her?
Is she alone? What if another assassin gets past the guards?
“Are you going to stand there panicking or come join us?” Jesper teases, looking in my direction even though I know I’m still hidden in the darkness.
“Your mental thoughts are practically screaming at me. Rav is safe—Nero has her, and the dragons are keeping a close watch around the castle. She will be okay for a bit.”
I grunt and move towards them into the firelight, taking a seat in the chair next to them. “Good,” I grumble, hiding the groan as my muscles relax for the first time today.
Jesper leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and his scarlet hair falls forward. “You could always go join her. I’m positive she wouldn’t mind.”
“No. It’s not happening.”
Aemon picks up a glass of amber liquid and swirls it before taking a dainty sip. “And why is that? The Fates aren’t wrong, and we all know how you feel about her.”
“Does this have to do with daddy dearest?” Jesper adds.
I snarl. “Drop it. We have more pressing things to discuss.” But the picture is already ingrained in my mind: my body curled around her much smaller form, protecting her from anything. Her ass pressed against my cock. It twitches in my pants, and I have half a mind to bash their heads together.