Page 36

The tension builds as we stand in the hush of the suite, my presence behind her, her silhouette framed by the window’s light.

A memory of last night’s sweat-slick bodies returns, a coil of desire tugging low in my gut.

I swallow, refusing to let it overshadow the moment.

She glances back at me, eyes keen, and I realize that swirl of tension is mutual.

She breaks the silence, voice taut. “So, we carry on like before? We train, we fight for Orthani, we pretend last night was just a random slip?”

I flinch at her bluntness. “I’m not sure how to handle it. I’ve never allowed myself to… fraternize like that with a captive.”

She arches a brow, crossing her arms. “I’m more than a captive. You needed me in your ranks. And now, apparently, you want me in your bed. Or do you?” The challenge in her tone sears me.

My pulse kicks harder. “I didn’t plan this,” I admit roughly.

“You’re a purna, and every fiber of me knows I should despise you.

But your defiance keeps drawing me in. I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter, nor can I let it overshadow my responsibility.

So we compromise. You remain here, under guard but with dignity.

We continue training. If we… find ourselves in another intimate moment, we handle it discreetly.

The council must not suspect we’ve crossed lines. ”

She regards me for a long moment. “If you expect me to bow, be the docile lover behind locked doors, you’ve mistaken me. I won’t surrender my power, Vaelith, not for Orthani, not for you.”

I grit my teeth. “I know. But letting you roam the entire estate unguarded also risks sabotage. Don’t think I miss your cunning. I see glimpses in every war council how you manipulate details. I suspect you scheme more than you admit.”

A faint smile curves her lips. “So you do notice.” Her voice lowers, turning almost sultry. “And yet you grant me this room. Are you not worried I’ll gather secrets, plan an escape?”

“Of course I am.” My hands clench at my sides. “But I’m gambling that your partial cooperation is worth the risk. Because… what we have, that spark, might keep you closer than any iron shackles.”

She laughs softly, a hint of dark amusement. “You think so highly of your effect, do you?”

A flush of frustration colors my face. “Don’t mock me. I’m as conflicted as you. Enough talk. If you accept this arrangement, I’ll respect your space. But you’re expected at every training, every war briefing, and you cannot roam beyond these walls without my approval. Understood?”

She exhales. “For now, yes. It’s better than a cell or the constant stares of soldiers in the barracks.

” Her posture relaxes incrementally, though a wary glint remains in her eyes.

“I’ll abide by your rules until something shifts.

I’m not naive enough to trust Orthani’s mercy forever, but perhaps this can be workable. ”

I nod curtly, trying to ignore how my heart flutters with relief. “Good. I’ll assign a new guard rotation to watch this wing. If you need anything—food, supplies, even a bath—ask them. They’ll fetch what’s allowed. Step out of line, and we revert to stricter measures.”

She shoots me a smirk. “You love reminding me who holds the chain. But we both know it’s not that simple.”

I meet her gaze, the swirl of conflicting emotions roiling beneath my stoic facade. “No,” I murmur, “it’s not. But it’s the best I can manage.”

The hush that follows pulses with unspoken tension, a leftover echo of last night’s intimacy.

For a heartbeat, I consider stepping forward, testing if that charged moment remains.

My skin tingles with the memory of her body.

But we stand in the stark daylight, both of us too raw from everything, so I keep my distance.

Clearing my throat, I gesture to the corridor. “I have to oversee the men’s morning drills. Settle in. I’ll see you at midday for your own training session.”

She dips her head in acknowledgment. As I turn to leave, she calls after me softly, “Vaelith.”

I glance back, heart thudding. “Yes?”

Her gaze flicks over my face, something almost vulnerable before she hides it with a tilt of her chin. “Thank you,” she says, voice hushed. “For this room. For not?—”

She doesn’t finish, but I sense she means for not throwing her in a cell after last night.

Warmth spreads in my chest at the fragile gratitude.

I give a single nod and exit, shutting the door behind me.

Standing in the hallway, I exhale, pressing my hand against the cold stone wall for a moment to steady the tumult swirling inside me.

A guard appears, posture stiff. I fix him with a look. “Her room remains locked from the outside if we must, but you keep an eye without harassing her. Understood? She has partial freedom here.”

He nods, brow furrowed but not daring to question me. “Yes, Commander.”

With that settled, I stride away, heading for the courtyard.

Soldiers gather, practicing forms with staves and swords.

My presence hushes conversation. Usually, I’d critique their posture, correct a slash, or demonstrate an advanced maneuver.

Today, my thoughts drift. The men sense my distraction but keep training, uncertain how to approach me.

Sergeant Marek steps forward, saluting. “Commander, we’re ready to begin the infiltration drill if you wish to observe.”

I force my mind to focus. “Proceed. I’ll watch for the first run.

” My tone lacks its usual crispness, but Marek only nods.

He leads a small squad through a mock infiltration of the courtyard’s perimeter, demonstrating stealth tactics.

I offer mild commentary, though my heart isn’t in it.

My thoughts stray to the memory of Selene’s parted lips, the feel of her nails digging into my shoulders, the scorching friction that left me shaking.

As the session concludes, Marek voices satisfaction with the squads’ progress. I dismiss them to their next tasks, ignoring the subtle glances from those who notice my unusual silence. If any suspect the truth behind my distraction, they’re too wary to ask.

With the drills done, I slip into a side corridor that leads to my war chamber.

The fortress-like walls of the estate weigh heavily on me.

My entire life, I prided myself on Orthani’s discipline, on mastering emotion to serve the city’s demands.

But now I’m unraveling under the pressure of this purna who stokes every rebellious spark in me.

I reach the war chamber, intending to lose myself in strategic maps.

Instead, I pace around the table, unsettled.

Selene’s presence in the east wing casts a new dynamic over everything.

She’s not just a tool or a captive soldier—she’s become entwined with me in a way that defies logic.

My memories keep snapping back to last night, how we pressed each other past the brink, tangled in violence that melted into raw passion.

I wonder if any of the men suspect. If the rumor spreads that I broke every protocol by coupling with a purna… the council might doubt my loyalty. But the bigger concern is how I doubt myself. I scowl, glaring at the scattered parchments, none of which hold the solution.

Time crawls until midday. My stomach knots, anticipating the training session I told her we’d have.

Will we revert to the same tension, or pretend last night never happened?

I can’t stand the thought of ignoring it, yet addressing it head-on feels fraught.

She stands as a living reminder of the purna who once cost me everything, yet I can’t help wanting more.

At the appointed hour, I trek to the main courtyard again.

She arrives a few minutes later, flanked by a single guard.

Her expression remains guarded, but there’s a flicker of acknowledgment when our gazes meet.

She steps onto the sand with a subdued composure, the wooden sword in her hand.

The onlooking soldiers murmur, though they keep a respectful distance.

I nod. “We’ll refine your infiltration drills. If you prove your worth, we might assign you to the next frontier mission.”

She dips her head curtly, taking a stance.

We begin, each movement a test of her agility—scaling small obstacles, neutralizing straw targets, navigating a mini-obstacle course designed to mimic orc ambush sites.

She moves with lethal grace, focusing on each challenge.

I provide corrections sparingly, aware that she hardly needs them.

She’s already adept, forging her own methods that sometimes surpass Orthani’s standard approach.

At one point, she leaps from a stacked crate to a ledge, sliding behind a target to deliver a swift cut from behind.

Her execution is flawless. My chest tightens with the thrill of watching her.

She stands, panting, and flicks her gaze to me as though challenging me to find fault.

I manage a nod. “Excellent. That move was… resourceful.”

A faint flush colors her cheeks, either from exertion or something deeper. “I adapt quickly, Commander.”

The hours pass with more drills, and I note the subtle shift in the men’s attitudes.

They’re starting to see her not as a caged purna but as an asset.

A small circle of them actually applauds after she clears the final obstacle.

She eyes them warily, not used to Orthani’s grudging respect.

My lips twitch in a near-smile. Perhaps bridging that divide is possible if she remains stable in our ranks.

Eventually, I dismiss the soldiers, leaving only me and her in the courtyard again, the sun drifting lower.

She stands, wiping sweat from her brow, chest heaving from the workout.

My throat tightens remembering how she looked last night in the throes of our savage desire. I swallow the lump in my throat.