Chapter 10
CHAPTER
I was guided to the barracks, apparently we had finally moved up and been allowed a bunk inside instead of the tents.
The barracks were louder than I expected when Malakai led me in, his boots striking a steady rhythm beside mine. Conversation dulled when the other soldiers noticed us, and I felt the air shift, eyes on me, heavy and assessing.
I forced my shoulders back, chin high. If they wanted guilt, they wouldn’t see it written on me.
“Look who decided to rejoin us,” one of the men muttered, his voice carrying just enough for the whole room to hear. A few chuckles answered him, sharp-edged, humorless.
I ignored them, none of them belonged to my squad anyway. Moving to my cot with measured steps, my bag clutched in my fist. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken judgment.
“Relax, you vultures,” Ashley drawled from her bunk, not even looking up from the blade she was polishing. “She didn’t do it.” Her tone was casual, almost bored, as if stating the obvious.
That broke the tension like a crack in ice. A few scoffs, some exchanged glances, but no one pressed further. Still, the weight of suspicion lingered in the air like heavy smoke.
My eyes flicked across the room, then landed on him.
Lionel.
He was watching me from the far bench, arms folded, expression unreadable to anyone else. But I knew him too well. The faint crease between his brows told me what words never could, he believed me.
The knot in my chest loosened, just enough to breathe.
But then there was Malakai. He lingered by the door, arms crossed over his chest, gaze sweeping the room, the Lieutenant surveying his pawns. He didn’t have to say a word. Everyone knew he pulled the strings around here.
But I knew the truth. The accusation, the uncertainty, it all pointed back to him, playing ruler above all. He’d built this cage out of doubt and mistrust, and now he was watching me rattle the bars for his own amusement.
I sat down, setting my bag by my side with deliberate care. My voice was steady when I spoke, even though every muscle in me wanted to break.
“Don’t worry,” I said, my eyes never leaving Malakai’s. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His smirk was the only answer I got, but I didn’t need words to hear his statement: ‘like I’d let you’. An apple fell from my bag, bouncing on the floor before rolling around. I sighed, and rose to retrieve it.
The murmurs grew louder as I moved towards the center of the room, every step controlled. One of the newer recruits, a wiry man with sharp eyes stepped forward, blocking my path.
“You’re lucky Ashley’s your friend,” he said, voice low but dripping with accusation. “Otherwise, no one here would trust you. You killed a squadmate.” His fingers flexed, itching as if he expected me to strike first.
I stopped, meeting his gaze evenly, refusing to flinch. The room went quiet, everyone leaning in, hungry for the fallout.
“I didn’t,” I said, calm but firm. “I was framed, and if you spent half as much time thinking as you do gossiping, maybe you’d know how to tell the truth from lies. Or will you fall prey to a shapeshifter demon this easily too?”
“She’s got you there, Will,” Ashley sneered triumphantly.
A laugh rose from the back, mocking him and Will’s nostrils flared, his jaw tightening.
“Don’t think words can save you,” he snapped. “Someone framed you, whatever, the blood is still on your hands; you didn’t save her, which makes you just as guilty.”
I let the silence grow heavy in the room before replying, voice cool as winter.
“Framed, yes. Guilty, no, she was a mage. You’ll be smart to review all the evidence before accusing me so carelessly.”
Eyes shifted, some narrowing, some blinking with uncertainty.
Will’s lip curled, but before he could respond, the shadow of a smirk caught the corner of my vision.
Malakai leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching every movement.
His presence was oppressive, silent, and yet he said more without a word than Will could with ten threats.
He was enjoying this, seeing them chew me out.
Ashley’s chuckle cut through the tension. “Careful, Will,” she said lazily, putting away her knife to begin polishing one of her bombs as if nothing mattered. “She’s not the type you can bully, and I don’t think you want to find out how much trouble that brings.”
Lionel shifted, leaning forward slightly, eyes locking with mine. No words, only the quiet signal that he was ready to leap to my side if needed.
Will’s chest heaved. “You think you can intimidate me with—”
“I’m not intimidating you,” I interrupted, stepping closer, voice low and sharp. “I’m reminding you. Choose your next words carefully, or you’ll regret it.”
The room was still. Even the recruits who didn’t care about the accusation felt the weight of control shifting, the icy precision in my stance.
Malakai’s smirk widened ever so slightly, the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. He didn’t move, didn’t intervene. Just watched. Like a predator observing a clever prey navigate a trap he’d laid himself.
Will swallowed, stepped back, and muttered something about duty before retreating to his bunk, eyes still darting to me like he expected the floor to give way under me.
I exhaled slowly, muscles relaxing by a fraction. My pulse still thudded in my ears, reminding me that he was there, still holding the room in his silent grip.
Malakai’s gaze lingered a beat longer, and then he tilted his head, as if marking my performance. The silent verdict was clear, I had survived the first round. But he was still in control, still holding all the cards.
The others kept murmuring amongst themselves, uneasy after my standoff with Will, and Malakai didn’t move from the doorway making everyone feel even worse. His lips curled slightly, but sharp, and his eyes scanned the room like a hawk.
“Well,” Malakai drawled, voice low but carrying across the barracks, “this was… mildly entertaining. Almost as if I didn’t already know how pathetic most of you are.”
The whispering died immediately. Heads snapped up, silence falling like a stone. Even the recruits already standing in salute stiffened. Every eye shifted to him, and even the most confident hunched slightly, reminded of his reputation, and of how easily he could dismantle them all.
I swallowed, feeling the familiar tightening in my chest as he let the words hang for a moment. Without another glance at me, he turned and strode away from the room, boots striking the floor with authority. The door closed behind him, leaving only the faint echo of his presence.
I exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening ever so slightly, but the pulse in my veins still thrummed with adrenaline.
“Thanks Ashley,” I nodded towards her. She simply waved me off with her hand, like it was nothing, but she had stood up for me and that was something I wouldn’t forget any time soon.
Only now was I able to take in the sight of the space.
The barracks were cramped, rows of low cots pressed shoulder to shoulder, each with a small locker at the foot.
The walls were bare, gray stone, scuffed and streaked from years of boots and elbows.
There were a few personal touches decorating the space— threadbare blankets, worn photographs pinned above beds, toothbrushes, some personal clothing besides our leathers.
The smell of sweat and iron hung faintly in the air, and the chatter of the recruits felt louder than it should have in the low-ceilinged room once more.
“You okay?” Lionel’s voice broke the tension. He stepped closer, weaving between the tightly packed rows of cots, eyes calm, scanning the room for any lingering threat before settling on me. “He’s gone for now.”
I sank onto my bunk, placing my apple beside me. The thin mattress sagged under my weight, springs creaking faintly. “Yeah… I think so,” I admitted, though my fingers still twitched, remembering how easily Malakai could dominate the space.
Lionel perched on the edge of the bunk opposite me, the wood cold beneath him, eyes soft but steady. “You handled that well. He likes to see fear,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen it before. You didn’t give him any.”
I gave a small, ironic laugh. “I was terrified,” I whispered, voice low. “Every nerve in me was screaming. I hate confrontations.”
“And you still stood your ground,” he said, almost smiling. “That’s… impressive. As always.”
I met his gaze, and for the first time in hours, the tension in my chest eased. Lionel’s presence was grounding, a reminder of years spent side by side, watching each other grow, fighting battles together. “Thanks,” I murmured.
He leaned back slightly, arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his brown eyes.
“You know,” he said, pausing as if thinking hard, “if you keep surviving all of the Lieutenant’s theatrics, we should probably start calling you the Fearless One… or, uh… maybe ‘the person who makes everyone look bad.’”
I blinked at him, then snorted, despite myself.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, shaking my head, but smiled easily at him.
“Hey,” he said, grinning, “I’m serious. You should get a medal… or at least a cookie. Maybe both.”
I let out a small laugh, the first real one in hours, and felt reassured to get through this, with Lionel at my side.
There were plenty of training grounds around the base.
There was an indoor area—a large room, both in width and height.
Hidden inside a backroom, masses of equipment were stashed, which could be used to build an obstacle course if needed.
Most of the practice inside was for individual training; punching a heavy bag, running, lifting weights, climbing, the list went on.
We began our daily routine there, I had idled enough in that cell and was getting restless anyway. Ashley began with running, she was fast and her reaction speed was amazing.