Page 46

Amaia

“ I was attacked last night. Won’t get into names. Not into glorifying the actions of men,” I said as I pushed open the double doors from what was once a kitchen and into the main dining room. “Their absence is loud enough.”

One hundred souls stared back at me. I searched the room, waiting for someone, anyone, to react in a way that pissed me off. I was over this shit and it had only just begun. Generals and leaders of settlements alike mumbled at their tables, exchanging glances that ranged from confusion to anger. The angry ones gave me the slightest bit of comfort. Anger meant loyalty. They were the ones that would have my back, no matter what.

“Now, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” I strode to the middle of the room, dragging a wooden chair across the floor with an earsplitting screech before dropping into it. I crossed my legs, hands resting on my knees, and leaned back like I owned the place. Because, for all intents and purposes, I did.

“It’s a bit of an understatement to say that the trust between territories at the moment is abysmal. Unfortunately for us, that doesn’t bode well. If we cannot trust each other, then we as a unit are effectively useless. Each week will be split into one exercise and one drill—one to learn, one to test. Knowing our strengths is essential to maximizing damage and limiting loss. Week one, we’ll assess strengths and weaknesses. Find them, exploit them, and understand how they play into the bigger picture.”

“More on that later,” Alexiares said, rising from his seat in the corner. He crossed the room, his hand settling on the back of my chair. “Week two, the focus is a personal favorite: defense so terrifying it doubles as offense.”

A scoff broke through the tension, drawing my attention to San Jose’s table. Bold of them to test me again. I zeroed in on their general, his posture betraying that he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

“No better instructor than the inventor themselves,” their general muttered.

“That’s right,” I said, rising from my chair in one fluid motion, kicking out my leg to punctuate the movement. I clasped my hands behind my back and fixed him in his seat with a glare. “So shut up and listen.”

Hunter cleared his throat, appearing at my side. “Y’all best pay attention because week three is where things get interesting. War simulations. You’ll get an objective, a map, and be placed into units. And God willing, you’ll learn how to keep each other alive. In a few weeks, it won’t be a game anymore. We hit the camps before engaging with Covert directly.”

“Why?” a voice called from somewhere in the crowd, hidden among the bodies packed into the hot, stuffy room.

“Classified.” Alexiares cracked a smirk.

I circled them like sharks. Eyeing those who hadn’t shown me nearly enough damn respect. It was getting to the point where I’d have to resort to more extreme measures, something I wasn’t exactly keen on doing. Respect was earned. I wholeheartedly believed that, but fuck, what else would it take?

The sun glistened through the cracked and shattered windows of the diner. Nearly noon, give or take an hour or two. Fresh air never seemed more exciting than being stuck in the center of a room filled with 80 percent men. I aimed to change that.

If these sacks of balls thought they could outlast me, they’d learn otherwise soon enough. The diversity needed to accomplish this mission was essential to my plans. We could only rebuild what we stood to lose through open-minded individuals. Simply put, half of the men here were old dogs that refused to learn new tricks.

“It serves to benefit our cause, soldier. Your job is to follow orders, not question them.” I hated saying the words. I’d never dream of uttering them to my own troops. Which, technically, there were now, whether they were happy about that fact or not.

“With all due respect, ma’am, you haven’t earned the trust that entails yet,” the general from Casper reasoned.

“Respect noted, request denied.” I glared in his direction. They’d been reasonable thus far. There was no reason to take his words at anything other than face value.

He nodded his head in subtle submission. “Ma’am.”

“Any more questions?” I said, glancing at the others who’d remained quiet since I’d walked into the must smelling room. “None. Fantastic. Get some food. Hit times at thirteen-hundred. Wear something comfortable and, oh, don’t be late. All Generals, stay, we have much to discuss.”

The room cleared out with a sense of urgency that immediately brought me a smidgen of joy. And so it all begins.

With the room cleared, Alexiares stood front and center, demanding their attention as he circled back to the initial question. The reason the camps were our first priority. “Weapons, that’s what’s at the camps.” He stated, his tone making it clear he thought it was beyond debate.

Serenity stared him down in such a way that even Alexiares could not ignore. One that said his words should be reconsidered and fast.

Hunter’s voice boomed across the room, recovering for him. “People who happen to be weapons.”

Pitiful. Absolutely fucking pathetic. The drills I ran were beyond basic. Entry-level shit my soldiers warm up to.

We were going to lose this war, and we were going to lose badly if we didn’t get our shit together.

Hunter, Alexiares, and I sat at a table, dragged into the center of what was once Royal Oaks City Hall, now our official ‘war room.’ We sat there, staring at them blankly as they watched us, staring back, picture perfect models of various states of flustered, agitated, bored, and amused.

“Well, that was a sad display of complete incompetence,” I declared after a few passing moments of achingly awkward silence.

“General Harper,” Alexiares called out. He watched in vulture-like fashion as the general of Aberdeen tensed at the sound of his name caught in the Bloodhound’s mouth. “Did I hear you right when you said the proposed course of action, training wise, was, and I quote, ‘fucking reckless and a waste of time.’”

“I believe the words ‘dumb bitch’ were uttered about our beloved overlord as well,” Finley chimed in, her voice as grating as nails on a chalkboard, icy eyes dancing with mischief. “Oops. Sorry, I made it worse, didn’t I?”

The sound of bodies turning toward Finley was audible, the attention she was so desperate for all hers. I rolled my eyes, my gaze still stuck on Harper. “Consider me all ears then—anyone else have any strong feelings about my tactics?”

Radio silence. Music to my fucking ears because, quite frankly, I’d had enough of the bullshit. “Didn’t think so. Harper, I’m going to choose to ignore what any other general here would deem insubordinate and give you another opportunity to shut your mouth.”

Hunter’s chuckle eerily resembled his twin’s, a sound that sent a pang twitching through my hardly healed heart. Only the choked laugh of Isabella Everhart brought me back to focus.

“Now, let’s address the obvious.” I leaned forward, elbows on the table, my hands clasped together. I swept my gaze across the room. “You’re not ready. Not for this. Not even close. What I saw out there wasn’t just embarrassing, it was dangerous. For you, for your soldiers, for anyone who’s counting on us to survive.”

Harper’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his glare fixed on the table in front of him.

“Hunter,” I said, gesturing to him without breaking my stare at the others. “What do you think the survival rate would be if this group went into the field right now?”

Hunter rubbed the back of his neck, granting them the courtesy of pretending to think about it. “Fifteen percent. Maybe.”

“Fifteen percent,” I echoed, letting the number hang in the air, then clucked my tongue. “That’s a death sentence for anyone who marches with you. Unacceptable. Harper—you seem to think you’re the smartest guy in the room—what exactly would you suggest instead of my ‘reckless and wasteful tactics?’”

Harper finally looked up, his gray eyes narrowed. “I’d suggest training them on practical scenarios. Real situations they’ll face. Not this abstract crap you’re pulling from whatever history book you worship.”

I raised an eyebrow. “It’s Napoleon’s, but I digress. Practical scenarios? Like what? Taking the same three positions over and over again while the enemy picks us off because we’re predictable? Or better yet, splitting into smaller groups like in the last war and let them overwhelm us one by one?”

His silence was answer enough.

“That’s what I thought,” I said flatly. “What you don’t seem to grasp, Harper, is that our enemy isn’t playing by any rules. They’re unpredictable, and if you can’t learn to think on your feet, you’re already dead.”

Alexiares leaned back in his chair, legs spread and arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Let me put it in terms you’ll understand, Harper. Amaia’s tactics aren’t reckless—they’re adaptive.”

Finley’s laugh rang out again, sharp and cutting. “God, this is better than the soap operas my mother used to watch. You should’ve stayed quiet, Harper.”

Hunter shot her a warning glare. She mimed zipping her lips, though the grin never left her face.

“This isn’t about you or your shitty little settlement, General,” I said, leaning forward again to recapture their attention. “This is about survival. You don’t have to like me, or my methods, but you will respect me. That’s a nonnegotiable, I’m afraid—or I’ll find someone else who can lead your people into battle.”

The tension in the room was palpable. Hunter stepped forward, his hands settling on his belt buckle. “You’re sitting here with your feathers all ruffled like this is optional. Hate to break it to ya, but it ain’t. If you’re not ready to adapt, you might as well lay down and quit now. This war won’t stop to let you catch your breath. So, saddle the hell up or step aside, ‘cause we’ve got work to do.”

“Now,” I continued, now that the room had sucked into his little speech. “Lucky for you all, our battle plans are built on hitting with our strong points. We don’t hit hard once or twice, we keep applying pressure and we don’t let them up for air.”

“There will be heavy losses across the board,” Hunter said, pushing from his seat and standing at my side, arms crossed. “It’s important to prepare ourselves for that.”

When he spoke, everyone listened. Their eyes homed in on his mouth, waiting patiently to see what would come out next, like he was their messiah or something. Whatever .

As long as they were willing to answer to someone who was wholeheartedly on my side—it wasn’t a competition. With Adelaide safely tucked away at Monterey Compound, he would never be a danger to my people, to the cause.

“With our technological advances, the extraordinary gifts we’re now aware of and prepared to utilize, plus the support of St. Cloud,” I added reluctantly, much to my dismay and Finley’s overexaggerated joy. “There is the potential that once we clear Covert’s borders and see the other side, that we may have the advantage.”

“That’s on the account that we have what it takes to make it that far,” Hunter stated. Not to me, but to others. He’d been thoroughly unimpressed by what he’d seen.

The three of us had gone through the drills with them. In my opinion, the proper way to lead was from the front. If I wasn’t capable of performing at the same levels as the soldiers beneath me, then who the hell was I to hold such expectations? No. We had to be stronger, faster, smarter . An example for them all, a symbol they aspired to live up to.

“And that only works if we train,” I added, now on my feet right next to him, a unified front. “ Together . As one. One unit, one compound. We can go face Ronan now. That seems to be the response you’re all itching to hear, which makes sense to you , but I’m telling you now, if we do that, we will lose.”

“What happens once we’re in?” Millie asked, curiosity lining tan features. “Keep going till we reach the capitol?”

A quiet curse slipped out. The hope was that no one would bring this up, at least not yet. I hadn’t had the chance to tell the people I loved about my plans. They wouldn’t be happy about them and I wouldn’t blame them. If it was them in my shoes, I’d riot.

“We distract Ronan while evacuating as many innocent civilians as we can to The Outskirts,” I said, answering Millie’s question without saying too much. This would have to be enough for now.

“Evacuate?” Claes, the mayor of Casper, questioned, leaning forward, hands folded in front of him as he rested against the wobbling table. “For what reason?”

I gave a tight-lipped, awkward half-smile, more grimace than grin, “We’re hitting the capitol. Hard.”

“You’re staging a coup,” Finley exclaimed, not alarmed, but merely putting the pieces together.

“I am.”

“With who to replace his stead? You?” General Harper released a laugh that old me would have lunged across the room and slapped the shit out of him for. Unfortunately, I no longer had the leeway to get away with such actions. But damn, did I wish I could let old me at him.

“Is there something humorous about the statement?” I arched my brow, forcing myself to hold a steady, calm voice.

“The only thing humorous here is the amount of men in the room still questioning your authority while taking orders from you within the same breath.” Serenity said, in an odd moment of support. It silenced him, if only temporarily, still felt like a small win.

“We can discuss who is best suited to accommodate the needs of the many when we’re closer to winning this thing, yes?” I surmised.

Not so much of a suggestion as an end to the conversation. No one argued, though not a single soul appeared happy about it, including our closer allies. Lucky me . At least they’d realized they needed me to even make it that far.

The expressions on Harper and those aligned with Aberdeen hinted a wet day dream on my future assassination. They were vocal, loud, but not stupid. They’d bide their time, use me for all they could, and once I served their purpose … it was clear they had no regards for what happened to me after this was all said and done.

Thank you to the powers that may be . At least no one had questioned the distraction portion of my plan. My family knew the basics, but not the part they’d hate the most.

“You can’t do that.”

Fucking mother of Jesus himself. These people … I didn’t have the energy to replace yet another leader, or in this case, General of San Jose. But if it came to that? Fine. I’d do it. We no longer had the privilege of fighting a war with honor and tact to beat someone like Ronan Moore and his sycophants.

“Try and stop me,” I said with a daring tilt of my head.

The scrawny man scoffed, tossing a hand in the air as if my words were nothing but noise. “Yeah, right.”

I offered him no more than a simple shrug before crossing the room, weaving through the mess of chairs. The room buzzed with tension as I grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

“If only this lesson had been taught already.” Moe slid into the room, half-laughing. Alexiares leaned back against the wall, one hand holding the door open for her and Reina to slide in, the other in his pocket, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Their general couldn’t have been more than a few years my senior. He stammered, trying to find a way out, but there was none. “I want you to kneel,” I said, my voice low, commanding.

“Excuse me?” he managed, continuing on with his bravado even though I could feel him shaking beneath my grip.

Before I could go further, Reina’s sharp tone sliced through the room. A wave of calm slammed into me. She could sense the others’ reactions. I needed to keep my calm—for now. “Amaia. Enough.”

I dropped the collar of his shirt with an animalistic growl, still holding his stare with the promise of more to come. “I won’t bash your fucking face in for insubordination if you kneel. We’ve been through this once—ask my soldiers how many times I’ve repeated my orders to them.”

There were a handful of my top soldiers present, here to set an example for the others, Miller of course, front and center. The room sat in stunned silence as they shifted to attention without need for the command. “None, ma’am,” they said in unison.

“Well, would you look at that?” I smoothed out my clothes, regaining my composure with the help of Reina’s magic, warming me in an empathetic hug. “You cannot repeat yourself in the heat of battle without risking the life of the person fighting next to you. I won’t have that on my head. Now bow.”

His expression wavered, caught between hesitation and seething anger. A blip of joy grew into something ravenous as I watched him teeter on the edge of action.

“Allow me to restate myself one final time. This only works if there is one,” I stated, weighing the pros and cons of kicking him down to his knees, ultimately deciding the impact of him doing it on his own would be all the more satisfying. “ONE. Not several. Not ten. Certainly not over forty. But one general. One rallying point. One leader. That person is me. So kneel, bow, whatever you want to call it, but bend. Your fucking. Knee.”

Alexiares wandered to the other side of him. The threat was subtle, but clear. A glimmer of pride shining in his eyes. “Now.”

“Can you please just do it already so we can get this whole war thing over with?” Finley drawled from her side of the stark, sterile room. “I miss my boyfriend. I’m ready to go home.”

Alexiares damn near snorted and met my humored stare. “Which one?”

“All of them.” Finley snapped, her tone no longer teasing, but reminiscent of the woman who tortured me for days in St. Cloud.

Working with her went against everything I believed in. She was vile and had zero redeeming qualities outside of her intelligence. If I could suck it out of her brain and implant it into Reina’s, the world would be better for it. Oddly enough, that invention hadn’t been one of her successful endeavors, according to Alexiares.

His knees hit the ground with a pleasant, orgasmic thud. I crossed my arms across my chest, my foot extending to push him down to his ass. “Lieutenant’s name?”

He glanced up at me from the floor, eyes narrowed, the snarl on his ugly face menacing. “Rossi.”

I caught sight of Caleb at the door. He hovered, waiting, watching, doing his best to notice anyone else in the room who was a bit too shifty for our taste. “Caleb.” I tossed my head.

He made his way out, the thud of the door sounding more like thunder than the soft close it was. I sighed. “General Rossi has a nice ring to it, I think.” I took my foot off his chest, releasing him from his spot of shame. “Get up, Lieutenant . I won’t have this discussion with you again.”