Chapter 42 That Kind of Woman
~ brEN ~
It was the strangest feeling, walking through the barracks that I’d only been inside a handful of times to play cards, telling myself that my parents were here. It didn’t seem real. And what could they possibly want?
When we left the front door and started up the stairs, I found Gil standing casually on the first landing, Jhoare at his side. They both nodded to me as I passed, then fell in line behind Ronen and Voski.
I felt Donavyn’s hand brush my back as we turned up the next flight of stairs, but then he pulled it back. I gave him a weak smile from the side. I wished he could touch me, too.
On the next level of the barracks, Einar stood in the doorway, speaking with another Furyknight I didn’t know. He excused himself when he saw us, and joined Gil and Ronen.
Harle waited on the last floor. Then Oros stood at the doorway into the floor, as if he were guarding it. I was so grateful to all of them, but their attendance only made me have to swallow tears. I was touched.
Together, we walked quickly up the hallway of the third floor where my brothers’ barracks were, towards the lounge at the end. It was a smaller room, so less popular with the squads. We’d played cards there before.
The walk down the corridor towards that door seemed to last forever.
My breath grew short. I had to hold my ground.
Not let Father assume things about why I was here.
I had to walk in, just tell them what had happened, and not to worry.
Hear their news if they had any, then tell them I was very busy and about to leave on mission.
That was it, that would be my escape if I needed it. Except, I couldn’t be rude. They’d left the farm and traveled all this way—something important must have happened. But what could that mean if—
“Bren, breathe.”
Donavyn caught my elbow and held it a second too long, tugging me gently to a stop just a few feet from that door.
I gulped at the air and looked up at him, certain I looked pathetic, though I kept my chin up and tried to keep my face blank.
“Breathe,” he repeated quietly, glancing past me to my brothers who had followed. “Remember who you are. Remember what you’ve achieved. He has no power here. You do,” Donavyn said firmly.
I sucked in a deep breath. “You’re right. Thank you.” My brothers crowded behind me, all of their faces tense, but alert. “Thank you, all of you,” I said, swallowing another pinch in my throat.
“You can do this, Bren. But we’re here if you need us. We’ll stay right behind you,” Ronen said firmly, and nodded once. My brothers all murmured their agreement.
“Thank you. This is strange. But thank you.”
Then, with one final glance at Donavyn, and a grateful rush through the bond, I turned to that door and pushed it open.
The room was long and narrow, the two long walls covered in bookshelves and pictures, while the other end of the room was a pair of very tall windows over a built-in bench seat.
Furniture in this room was big and functional, designed for large, active men. Pillows and rugs had been scattered all over by messy Furyknights.
The moment I opened the door, my father rose from that bench seat, leaving a hand back to still my mother who’d taken a seat there as well.
“Bren!”
I couldn’t breathe, but I tried to walk as naturally as possible to cross the floor towards them.
By the time I was close enough to speak comfortably, my mother had gotten to her feet, though she stayed well behind my father.
Their eyes were wide on me. But my brothers must have followed me in, because my father’s gaze shifted to something over my shoulder and his eyes grew even rounder.
“Bren, I’m so glad you’re safe.” My father rushed forward to embrace me.
I was so shocked, I just stood there, stiff and uncertain.
When he didn’t let go immediately, a tiny part of me wanted to sink into that hug and weep for his approval.
But I swallowed it back and stepped out of his arms, then turned around him to hug my mother.
I did rest my head on her shoulder, but only briefly before letting her go. She didn’t speak, but her eyes welled with tears and she seemed overwhelmed.
When I stepped back, my brothers gathered at my back, and I was so grateful, because I didn’t face them alone, one against two.
‘You can do this, Bren. You are a new creation. A Furyknight. Whatever news they bring, they can’t steal that.’ Akhane’s voice was a surprise. She must have left the stable to come closer so I could reach her.
I had to swallow another pinch in my throat. I needed to speak.
My father stood, uncertain, looking between me and the men at my back.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted.
So much for being cool and collected.
“We worried about you, Bren!” my father stammered. “Especially your mother.”
A low, unhappy grunt rose behind me. Donavyn.
“Well, I’m sorry you were worried. As you can see, I’m doing well.”
My father frowned, confused, his eyes sliding from face to face behind me. “Is Ruin here also? I asked for him, but I was told he isn’t on the grounds—”
“No, Father,” I said firmly, wishing the floor would open and swallow me because of course, he would ask.
And now my brothers would know that I’d known Ruin in my past life.
“I haven’t seen Ruin. He left the day I arrived and he hasn’t returned.
” I almost told him Ruin was dead—let father hear that!
But I didn’t want to feel his name in my mouth again. “Please, why are you here?”
My father’s head jerked back. “We’ve been trying to find you since you disappeared! I was turned away the first two times I visited. This time your mother came with me and we stayed in the city. Didn’t you get my message? I left it with the scribe in the black building.”
The Quartermaster’s scribe? That’s the message Benji had given to me?
Dear, Lord. I could have learned this was happening. I couldn’t believe I’d never opened it.
For a moment, all the ways I’d messed up—all the little details I’d missed, all the trials and trainings I’d failed, everything I’d said or done wrong in the preceding months, rained down on me. I quavered.
‘Bren, I’m here. I can—’
‘No,’ I sent back, dropping my eyes from my father’s and shaking my head for a moment. I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t let him take me back to that place where I was so weak. If Ruin couldn’t defeat me, my father wouldn’t!
I raised my head again and took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back.
My father was still speaking, his eyes flicking between me and my brothers now that I’d gone silent, as if he wasn’t sure who to address.
“…told you were in the stables. I know you love the horses, Brenny, but you don’t have to work here. You’re—”
“Yes, I do.”
My father hesitated. Then he frowned and looked over my shoulder again. “I would like to speak to my daughter alone.”
“No,” I said in the same moment Donavyn spat the same word.
I felt the men moving behind me and glanced at them, to find Ronen folding his arms and widening his stance, and my brothers following suit. They all looked very large, and strong in their leathers, and fierce. Even Harle. If it hadn’t been so wonderful, it would have been funny.
I turned back to my father and raised my chin, cleared my throat to remove the frog from it and pinned my father with a gaze. “Papa, these are my squad brothers, and my Commanding Officer. They are all very important men and they’re here to make sure I’m safe.”
My father scoffed. “I am not na?ve, Bren. I know what men do with a pretty woman.”
I felt my brothers stiffen behind me.
My father’s gaze narrowed as he shot me an accusing look. “What did you tell them?”
The last part of me that wanted to maintain pretense, or sought my father’s approval, died in that gaze. I recognized it. I despised it. And I refused to cower before it any longer.
“The truth,” I spat. My father spluttered, a herald to his anger. My mother looked worried. I wanted to take their attention off my brothers, so I strode past them to the window as if I was merely thoughtful.
But when I looked out onto the grass, I saw that not only Akhane, but Kgosi, and several of my brother’s dragons had gathered too, and I almost cried again.
‘We are here with you, Bren,’ Akhane sent sweetly.
‘Thank you,’ I sent back to her, touching the window briefly, then turning to face my parents again.
But my father had turned his attention to Donavyn who I’d introduced as my Commanding Officer.
“I know what you are. I know what all of you are,” he said, scowling at my brothers.
“And we’ve seen how much honor lives in men like you.
As if we needed more proof—you take my daughter and dress her like this to pretend she’s one of you?
We are not na?ve, Sir! I understand what happens here—and it makes me sick!
The Creator’s light does not shine on immoral men—”
“Like those who reject their sick and injured daughters?” Donavyn asked quietly and I could have kissed him. But I didn’t want him to make the argument for me.
“Father, you’re accusing the wrong people. They aren’t the ones who kept me here.”
My father turned, his expression skeptical. “Oh? Then who—”
I tipped my head towards the window. “She’s out there.”
My father frowned, but stalked the few steps to join me and leaned over the bench to look outside, his eyes widening at the incredible sight of several, massive dragons, all milling on the grassy lawn outside.
“See the gray—she’s the one who’s slightly smaller, right next to the big black one.
That’s Akhane. She Chose me. She wasn’t supposed to, but she did.
And because she chose me, the black one—that’s Kgosi, the Primarch of the herd—he accepted me as a Furyknight.
And because the dragons accepted me… the men had to, as well. ”
I swallowed, because I knew how incredible it sounded. But I also felt a swell of pride in my chest, and realized it wasn’t just my own. It was Donavyn, in the bond.