Chapter 2
LEXA
I hit the practice dummy hard enough to rattle my teeth, the impact jarring up through my wrists and into my shoulders. Then I did it again. The leather-wrapped post absorbed the blow without comment.
I needed this. The burn in my muscles, the sweat stinging my eyes, the simple clarity of violence against an object that couldn't fight back or invade my dreams.
The place was empty. Too early for most warriors. Perfect.
I shifted my stance, rolled my shoulders, and drove my fist into the dummy's midsection. The satisfying thud echoed off stone walls. My knuckles protested, already tender from yesterday's session. I ignored them.
I was losing my mind.
What the hell was I supposed to be doing here? My entire skill set revolved around controlled destruction. Breaching walls, disarming explosives, tactical demolitions. None of which had any application in a city carved from volcanic rock that had stood for centuries.
I was useless.
The other women had found their places. Terra led, obviously.
She'd been born for command, and getting with Darrokar had just amplified what was already there.
Selene worked with the healers. Orla tinkered with every Drakarn gadget she came across.
Hawk was so eager to fly with her mate I thought she might actually grow wings.
Even Vega, suspicious and prickly as she was, had started contributing to intelligence analysis.
All of the others seemed to be doing fine … or fine-ish.
And me? I collected rocks and beat the shit out of training dummies.
I threw a combination, left jab, right cross, uppercut. The dummy swayed on its base. Sweat dripped down my spine, soaked into my thin training leathers.
At least I hadn't run into Nyx.
The thought of him made my stomach clench. Heat that had nothing to do with exertion spread through my core.
Stop it.
I hit the dummy harder. The post cracked.
Shit.
I stepped back, breathing hard, examining the damage. A split ran down the leather wrapping, exposing the wood underneath. Great. I'd have to report this, explain why I'd destroyed training equipment.
"Rough morning?"
I spun. Terra stood at the entrance to the training grounds, her red hair pulled back in a practical braid. She looked put together, competent, every inch the Warrior Lord's mate.
Something bitter twisted in my chest.
"Just working out some frustration," I said.
Terra's gaze flicked to the damaged dummy, then back to me. One eyebrow rose. "I can see that."
She crossed the space between us, moving with the easy confidence she'd always had but that seemed sharper now. More Drakarn. Her boots made soft sounds against the stone floor.
"Want a sparring partner?" she asked. "It might be more satisfying than beating up a bit of wood."
I knew I should say no. I was already wound too tight, my control fraying at the edges. But the alternative was going back to my quarters and staring at the ceiling, waiting for exhaustion to claim me.
"Sure."
We moved to the sparring circle, a ring of smooth stone designed for hand-to-hand combat. Terra stretched, rolling her shoulders, loosening her neck. I mirrored her movements, feeling the pull of tired muscles.
We circled each other. Terra moved first, testing my defenses with a quick jab. I blocked, countered with a low kick she sidestepped. We traded blows, neither landing anything significant. Warm-up.
Then I stopped pulling my punches.
My fist connected with her ribs. She grunted, twisted, swept my legs. I hit the mat hard, rolled, came up in a crouch. She was already there, driving a knee toward my face. I caught it, shoved her back.
We broke apart, breathing harder.
"What's going on with you?" Terra asked.
"Nothing."
"Bullshit."
I lunged. She met me halfway. We grappled, strength against strength, technique against technique. I got an arm around her neck, she drove an elbow into my kidney. Pain bloomed, sharp and clarifying. I released her, staggered back.
"Lexa."
"I said I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You've been wound tighter than a spring for weeks."
I wiped sweat from my face. "Maybe I'm just tired of sitting around doing nothing while everyone else has a purpose."
Terra's expression softened. Wrong reaction. I didn't want sympathy.
"You have a purpose," she said.
"Do I? What, exactly, am I contributing here? I can't heal people. I can't improve their systems. I blow things up. That's what I do. And there's nothing here that needs blowing up."
"You're more than the job you had back home."
We stared at each other across the sparring circle. The heat crystals pulsed, steady and uncaring.
Terra grabbed a water flask from the side of the ring, took a long drink, then tossed it to me. I caught it, drank. The water was cool, mineral-rich from the river. It did nothing to wash away the bitterness coating my tongue.
"Things are happening," Terra said carefully. "You need to look at the whole picture, not just your piece."
"What things?"
She hesitated. That hesitation told me more than words would have.
"Terra. What things?"
"There's a mission," she said finally. "Already in progress. To Ignarath."
My hand tightened on the flask. "What kind of mission?"
"You know exactly what kind."
Months ago, Vega and Zarvash had infiltrated Ignarath.
The city was an enemy to Scalvaris, and it had been a clear lesson in just how lucky we’d been to end up where we did.
While there, they’d made contact with a group of humans from the same ship we’d crashed down in.
The situation wasn’t good. And Kira’s sister was stuck among them, being used as a slave … or worse.
"How long?"
"Three weeks ago."
Three weeks. They'd been planning this, executing this, and Terra hadn't said a word. It must have started almost as soon as the Skalanth ended.
"Who?" I asked, my voice flat.
"Mektar is leading. He took Veyrak, Nyx, and two other scouts."
All Drakarn. No humans.
And I guess that explained why I hadn't seen Nyx for weeks. Not that I was looking. Hell, I should be glad.
"And you knew about this. The whole time." It wasn't a question.
"I helped plan it," she admitted.
"But you didn't think to mention it to the rest of us." Anger was simmering, not quite rage, but it could get there if I let it.
Terra didn’t look a bit ashamed. "It's need-to-know. Operational security."
"Operational security." I laughed, the sound harsh. "That's what you're calling it?"
"What would you call it?"
My words were a controlled blast. "Excluding humans from decisions about human lives."
Terra's jaw tightened. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it? You're the only one of us the Blade Council will even pretend to listen to. You helped plan a mission to find our people, and you didn't think any of the other humans deserved to know. Deserved to be involved."
"It's not that simple."
"It is exactly that simple."
"Think about Kira," Terra said, her voice sharp.
"She can't know. Not yet. Not until we have real intel about Larissa.
If we tell her now and it turns out her sister is dead, it will destroy her.
If we tell her and Larissa is alive but we can't extract her immediately, it will destroy her.
We need information before we can make any decisions. "
I wanted to throw the water flask at her head. Wanted to scream that Kira deserved to know, that we all deserved to know, that keeping secrets was exactly the kind of Drakarn bullshit I'd been worried about.
But part of me understood. The cold, tactical part that had made me good at my job. You didn't give people information that would compromise the mission. You didn't tell them things that would make them act irrationally.
You protected them by keeping them in the dark.
I hated that I understood.
"How long until they report back?" I asked, banking the fire of my emotions.
"It should be soon."
"And if they don't find anything?"
"Then we reassess."
I set the flask down, my movements careful. Controlled. "You've changed."
"What?" She wasn’t quite scowling, but it was close.
I should have kept my mouth shut. I didn’t. "Since getting with Darrokar. You've changed. You think like them now. Decide like them. You're not human anymore, not really."
Terra's eyes flashed. "That's not true."
"Isn't it? Would you have made this call before? Would you have excluded the other humans from a mission about human survivors?"
Now she was fuming. "What fucking before?
We woke up here. We've been in Scalvaris since day one.
I've been making calls since we landed, trying to keep everyone alive, trying to navigate a society we don't understand with rules we're still learning.
Don't you dare suggest I've forgotten where I came from. "
"Then why does it feel like you're choosing them over us?"
Her glare could have melted stone. "I'm not choosing anyone over anyone. I'm trying to protect everyone. Human and Drakarn."
"By lying to Kira."
"By not giving her information that will hurt her when we don't have enough facts to act on it."
We were both breathing hard again; this time, it wasn’t from physical exertion. The argument had shifted, become something sharper, more dangerous than sparring.
"Then what would you do?" she demanded.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Because I didn't have an answer. Not a good one. Not one that wouldn't also hurt Kira, wouldn't also compromise operational security, wouldn't also be exactly the kind of reckless decision that got people killed.
I hated that even more.
"I have to go," she said. "I have more secrets to keep and humans to betray." She left before I could respond, her footsteps fading into the corridor beyond the training grounds.
Fuck.
I stood alone in the sparring circle, surrounded by practice weapons and damaged dummies.
A mission to Ignarath. Already in progress. Looking for our people.
And I was supposed to just wait. Trust that the Drakarn would handle it. Trust that Terra's judgment was sound.
Trust that I wasn't needed.
Fuck that.
But I didn't know what the fuck else to do.