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"Come here," Hadria orders.

I walk over obediently, though I'm acutely aware of Lyssa's hostile stare. Hadria reaches over to Lyssa and takes a sharp dagger out of her belt before her lieutenant can react.

And then Hadria presses the hilt into my hand.

"Attack me," Hadria says calmly.

"Hadria—"

"Shut up, Lyssa. Aurora: attack me."

I stare at her, confused.

"You heard me," Hadria says. "Come at me with the knife." When I don't move, stunned by the bizarre request, her eyes harden. "Do it. Now."

I don't actually want to hurt her. But…I'm supposed to be showing her I can follow orders. So I half-heartedly lunge forward, telegraphing my movement. Hadria easily steps aside and twists my wrist, forcing me to drop the blade.

"Pathetic," she says. "Again."

Shaken, I pick up the knife and try again, putting a little more effort behind the swing this time. But Hadria again anticipates my action and disarms me with humiliating ease.

"You'd better mean it this time," Hadria says, just as cool as ever. "Stop holding back."

Anger and frustration well up inside me. I'm so tired of being at her mercy. Gripping the dagger tightly, I slash towards her with real intent, a growl escaping me.

But Hadria sidesteps my wild swing, grabbing my wrist and twisting my arm up behind my back in one smooth motion. I cryout as she slams me face down onto the table, my cheek scraping against the rough wood.

I try to struggle, but Hadria presses her body against my back, pinning me in place. Her crotch presses into my butt as she leans over me.

"Not bad," she murmurs in my ear. "But you have a lot to learn, Sunshine."

I continue to squirm, my anger fading into awareness of how vulnerable I am. Hadria's breath tickles my neck and I feel the heat of her body enveloping me. To my dismay, a traitorous shiver of arousal runs through me at her closeness.

What's wrong with me? I should despise her, not crave her touch.

Hadria releases my arm and steps back. I stand up slowly, avoiding her penetrating gaze, and rub at my cheekbone to try to hide the heat I feel spreading across my face.

"It's too dangerous," Lyssa says. She hasn't moved the whole time, and when I look at her, she practically looksthroughme instead of at me.

Hadria strides over to Lyssa and holds out a hand. "Give me your gun."

Lyssa's scowl deepens but she's too well-trained to disobey, passing over the handgun from her other hip. Hadria checks the clip, then crosses over to me. I tense, unsure of her intentions.

Without a word, she presses the gun into my palm. The metal is cold, the weight unfamiliar. Hadria walks down to the end of the room and stands straight against the wall, hands behind her back.

"Shoot me," she calls down.

My fingers curl around the grip. Is this a test? Some cruel game?

"Hadria," Lyssa snaps. "This is madness."

But Hadria ignores her, just like before. "Three shots," she says, eyes on me. "Go on. Or no more midnight gardening."

My breath hitches. I raise the gun with trembling hands. Hadria stands motionless twenty feet away, cold eyes unwavering.

I squeeze the trigger.

The gun jerks in my grip, and I'm surprised by the recoil, how hard it is on my wrists. The shot goes wild, missing Hadria by several feet. Lyssa snickers.