Page 2 of Revenge (Warriors of the Drexian Academy #6)

Chapter

Two

Deklyn

T he academy’s stone walls seemed to press in on me as I stormed through the corridors, my boots echoing against the ancient floors with each furious step.

The air inside was thick with the scent of burning torches and old stone, a sharp contrast to the salt-tinged wind I’d left behind in the shipyard.

My jaw ached from clenching it so hard, and my hands were tight fists swinging by my side.

Grek me.

I was supposed to be on a transport headed back to my Inferno Force ship. I was supposed to be far from my home world by now, but I’d agreed to stay.

Grek Sasha and her stubborn streak, and her dangerous smile, and the way she’d looked at me with those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through every defense I’d ever built. Grek her for making me want things I had no business wanting, especially when those wants could get us both killed.

I took the stairs three at a time, my breathing steady despite the pace. Years of Inferno Force conditioning meant I could run up twenty flights without breaking a sweat, but right now I felt like I was suffocating anyway. The weight of Sasha’s expectations pressed down on my chest like a stone.

I hadn’t promised her anything. That was what I kept telling myself as I navigated the winding staircases and narrow corridors of the academy’s residential wing.

I’d agreed to talk to the admiral; that was all.

To prove to her she was wrong, that Earth’s military hadn’t abandoned her, that someone had simply made a strategic decision based on incomplete information.

But even as I repeated the rationalization, I knew it was a lie. The moment I’d seen that look of desperation in her eyes, I’d known I wasn’t walking away. Not from her. Not ever.

And that terrified me more than any Kronock prison ever could.

I paused at a junction of corridors, getting my bearings.

Tivek’s quarters were in the senior staff wing, a privilege of his position as the admiral’s adjunct.

The irony wasn’t lost on me that my brilliant little brother, who everyone thought had washed out of combat training, now had access to more classified information than most Inferno Force commanders.

If anyone could help me convince Sasha that her suspicions were unfounded, it was Tiv. He had the admiral’s ear, access to mission files, and enough political savvy to know how to present information in a way that would satisfy her need for answers without sending her on a suicide mission.

The plan was solid. Logical. It had to work.

Because the alternative of watching Sasha throw herself into danger again was unacceptable.

The memory of finding her in that Kronock cell, pale and hollow-eyed but still defiant, still so grekking beautiful it had stopped my heart, had been burned into my brain.

I’d barely gotten her out alive the first time.

I wouldn’t survive watching her walk back into that kind of danger.

Especially not when my feelings for her had become the kind of liability that could get us both killed.

Inferno Force warriors didn’t have weaknesses. We couldn’t afford them. Every emotion, every attachment, every moment of hesitation could mean the difference between mission success and catastrophic failure. I’d learned that lesson the hard way, more times than I cared to count.

But Sasha was my weakness walking around in human form, and I was pretty certain we both knew it.

I finally found Tivek’s door, raised my fist, and pounded on the heavy wood. “Tiv! Open up!”

The response was immediate but muffled, the sound of hurried movement and what might have been a curse in at least two languages. Then quick footsteps approached the door. When it swung open, I was already talking as I strode past him into the room.

“I need your help with something,” I said, not bothering to look at him as I paced toward the center of his quarters.

“It’s about Sasha. She’s got this crazy idea that Earth’s military abandoned her, that the rescue mission was unauthorized, and I need you to help me convince her she’s wrong before she?—”

I stopped short.

There, in Tivek’s bed, with the sheets pulled up to her chin and her hair mussed in a way that left no doubt about what I’d interrupted, was one of the human females from the rescue mission.

Morgan’s eyes were wide with surprise and something that might have been embarrassment, but it was my face that flamed hot.

Behind me, I heard the soft thud of the door closing, followed by the unmistakable sound of my brother clearing his throat.

“Hello, Dek,” Tivek said, his voice carefully controlled.

I turned to find him standing by the door wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and an expression that was both sheepish and defiant.

“Perhaps we could discuss this at a more convenient time?”

For a moment, I just stared at them both. Then I clapped Tivek on the shoulder, harder than strictly necessary, and felt a grin tug at the corner of my mouth despite everything. “I’ll talk to you later, little brother.”

I was halfway to the door when Morgan’s voice stopped me cold. “You won’t find what you’re looking for, because Sasha is right.”

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. Because if I did, she’d see exactly how much those words affected me, and I couldn’t afford that kind of vulnerability.

“What?” The word came out harsher than I’d intended.

“The rescue mission,” Morgan continued, and I could hear the regret in her voice. “It was unauthorized. Admiral Zoran went against direct orders from Earth Command when he sent the teams after you.”

A low groan escaped me before I could stop it. This was exactly what I didn’t want confirmed. Exactly what I’d been hoping was just Sasha’s paranoia and trauma talking.

“How do you know?” I asked, still not turning around.

“Because I was in the briefing room when the admiral received the stand-down order,” Tivek said. “Earth Command had written off both Sasha and you as acceptable losses. The admiral defied them to mount the rescue.”

The room was silent except for the sound of my breathing, harsh and uneven in the suddenly stifling air. Outside, I could hear the wind battering against the academy’s walls, the storm that had been building all evening finally unleashing its fury.

Sasha had been right. Someone in Earth’s military hierarchy had abandoned her. The rage that thought triggered was so pure, so immediate, that for a moment I couldn’t see straight.

“Who?” The word came out like a growl.

“I don’t know,” Tivek admitted. “The order came through layers of officials.”

I finally turned around, meeting my brother’s gaze. His expression was sympathetic but firm, the look of someone about to deliver news he knew I didn’t want to hear.

“If you’re thinking about helping her investigate this, you need to understand what you’re getting into. This goes high up the chain of command. High enough to be career-ending—or worse.”

The ice in my veins turned to fire. The thought of Sasha walking into that kind of danger, of powerful people deciding she knew too much and needed to be silenced, made every protective instinct I’d ever developed roar to life.

“She won’t let this go,” I said, more to myself than to them.

“No,” Morgan agreed quietly. “She’s won’t.”

I closed my eyes, turning and bracing one hand against the door as the weight of the situation settled over me. Sasha was right. Someone had betrayed her, had left her to rot in a Kronock prison while they played political games with her life. And now she wanted justice.

The problem was, justice had a way of getting people killed. Especially when it involved questioning the decisions of people powerful enough to make warriors and pilots disappear.

I thought about the way she’d looked standing in that shipyard, her hair dancing around her face like dark fire, her eyes blazing with determination. Beautiful and fierce and absolutely hell-bent on a course that could destroy her.

I couldn’t let that happen. Not if I could stop it. But how did you protect someone who didn’t want to be protected? How did you keep safe someone whose very nature rebelled against relying on others?

“Dek?” Tivek’s voice was careful. “What are you going to do?”

I opened my eyes, straightening away from the door with a new sense of purpose. “I’m going to help her, but I’m going to make grekking sure that anyone who wants to hurt her has to go through me first.”

“Be careful,” Tivek said with a release of breath.

I turned to him. “Thanks for the intel. Even if it’s not what I wanted to hear.”

His expression was solemn as he gave me a curt nod. I pressed my hand to the side panel and left them to their interrupted evening, stepping back into the corridor.

The storm outside had intensified, rain hurling itself against the exterior of the academy with renewed furor.

It seemed fitting somehow, a reflection of the chaos building inside my chest. I’d told myself I could walk away from this.

That I could convince her she was wrong and then disappear back to the uncomplicated world of Inferno Force missions and clear-cut objectives.

But that had been before I’d known the truth.

Now there was no walking away. Not from her, not from this. I just had to figure out how to keep us both alive long enough to see it through.

The thought should have terrified me. Instead, as I wandered through the academy’s maze of corridors, I felt purpose.

Sasha wanted revenge. Fine. I’d help her get it, but she was going to do it my way, whether she liked it or not.

And my way meant keeping her safe, even if I had to protect her from herself.

Let her rage at me later. As long as she was alive to do it, I could live with her anger. What I couldn’t live with was losing her.