Page 25

DAHLIA

“ A lright, same drills as last time,” Nova says a week later. We’d started my real training sessions and though I’d honestly been hoping for a sword or a dagger or one of those deadly-looking balls with the spikes on the end of a chain things I’d seen some of the soldiers training with, it made sense to start with the basics of hand-to-hand combat before moving to weapons. It was the same when learning at the forge with da. I couldn’t just start with a hammer and anvil without breaking my fingers or knocking myself unconscious. I had to learn the craft of it first, how to move, how to work the instruments, to understand them.

And according to Wesley, my body is my most important instrument. It’s my first weapon, and I need to understand how to wield it before I can learn to wield anything else.

“There you go…shift your weight a bit…there, that’s better…strike…spin…good!”

Though I convinced Alaric that my guard doesn’t need to be on duty while I’m training (I’d argued that if he trusted Wesley and Nova enough to train me, then he had to trust them enough to be able to defend me if need be, and he couldn’t really argue with that logic), they liked to watch my sessions anyway. I don’t actually mind. It’s kind of nice having them all here supporting me, acting like I can really do this, not like this is just an indulgence for a spoiled Consort’s ridiculous request. They’re helpful as well, giving pointers and advice and good-natured jeers, and Malcom graciously agrees to act as a punching bag most days. Even Takara participates, deciding she could stand to learn a bit of fighting as well, so I’m not always alone in my lessons either, which is nice.

It’s…exhilarating. I never thought of fighting as something I’d ever want to do, but now that I’m learning and can see the beauty and art in it, something in me stirs. I never want to be a soldier or anything like that, of course, but the idea of being able to defend myself—or, more accurately, someone else—sends a tingling excitement through my veins, a sense of…purpose, of doing something good and noble. The way Alaric and every soldier in this camp do every day. I’m sure it’s just a silly dream to think I’ll ever be in a position to truly help someone in this way, but the dream is enough to make me want to work harder…maybe even enough to make me not loathe the early morning workouts quite so much.

Maybe .

After a couple of hours, I’m a sweaty, dirty mess, but I can’t stop grinning.

“You’re doing quite well, my Lady,” Viktor says as I take a long drink of water by the edge of the practice ring.

“You have to say that.”

“I most certainly do not. If you did poorly or looked ridiculous, I would simply say nothing at all.” He winks and I smile at him. Nova, Wesley and I decide to head to the pond to lounge and relax after what, in my opinion, was a very hard day’s work. To them, it was nothing, but they indulge me anyway.

We pass Luca on the way and I make a point to stop and speak with him. I’ve seen him a few times since that first day in the cabin after Alaric denied him a spot on my guard and I always try to at least acknowledge him. He seems a little uncertain at first, but relaxes and smiles tentatively at me after we exchange pleasantries. That flash of guilt flares in his eyes again and I know he still blames himself for the attack, though all of the guards on duty near the pass were cleared of any wrong-doing or lapses in duty. They believe the group of Revenants had been in hiding within the boundaries long before that day, somehow managing to stay undetected.

I tell him goodbye and jog to catch up to Nova and Wesley.

“And what was that about?” Wesley asks with a quirk of his brow, looking back towards Highspear over his shoulder.

I shrug. “I ran into him in the cabin once after he was speaking with Alaric and he seemed…dejected. Sad. A little awkward. I get the feeling he doesn’t fit in as well here as the two of you.”

“That’s true,” Nova says, a considering look on her face. “He’s a good enough soldier—obviously good enough to be chosen as one of the High General’s own—but he just doesn’t…fit, as you say. He’s the butt of a lot of good-natured jibes, gets put on less-than-desirable duties, is never on the front lines—that sort of thing. I heard he’s petitioned for promotion a few times but he’s always turned down. I think he wants to be a sergeant mostly just so he can talk down to the rest of us, finally feel…I don’t know, important?”

I think about that as we walk. I feel bad for him, maybe even a bit protective? He has a vulnerability to him that reminds me a bit of Enid when she was young. When she was first diagnosed with the blood disease, before they found the medications to help her, she was so sick and weak. Some of the other children teased her or called her names and though I’d always loved my sister fiercely, that brought out a whole new side of my love. A raw, primal need to protect that honestly horrified mum and delighted da. I may have pulled hair and kicked shins of anyone who dared tease my big sister…there was also an incident with a leech-infested pond. I don’t think that Luca and I will be great friends or anything, there isn’t much of a connection there, but I do feel a bit of that protectiveness and compassion for him.

And maybe I see a bit of myself in him as well. Always underestimated and dismissed by people. Maybe we’ll both prove everyone wrong one day. I push the thoughts away and we make our way to the pond. The temperature is cool, but not cold, and the water looks entirely too inviting after my training.

I strip down to my undershorts and chemise and Nova whoops while Wesley pretends to be scandalized.

“My delicate sensibilities!” he cries, shielding his eyes. I put my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him.

“I do believe I took those from you years ago.” I buff my nails on my shirt. “The first one to take them, might I add.”

“Fair point,” he says with a fangy grin.

“I need all the details of that fateful day,” Nova says, taking off her own gear.

“Well, first, he couldn’t figure out how to unlace my corset. All thumbs, I swear. Then?—”

Wesley interrupts the story by picking me up bodily and tossing me into the chilly water before I can divulge the rest of the embarrassing tidbits. I squeal and sputter but laugh as I surface, finding him yanking off his shirt and striding into the water behind me.

“That’s a long enough stroll down memory lane, if you please.” He crosses his arms over his chest and smirks. “I’ve much improved, thank you very much.”

I splash him and Nova tackles him from behind, making me squeal again as the water sloshes all over me. We all play around a bit, acting like children, really, but none of us seem to care.

“You really are good,” Nova says to me a while later, floating in the water with her braids fanning out around her head like a silver halo. “With all the training, I mean. You have a natural ability to move your body that’s almost impossible to learn, and even harder to teach.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Wesley confirms. “I’ve been in charge of training exercises for plenty of new soldiers fresh out of the academy and you’re better than many of them.”

“Just wait until I have a blade in my hands,” I say, “you might be singing a different tune—or missing fingers.”

They both laugh. “We’ll start with wooden swords, don’t worry, but you’ll be there sooner than you think. You’ll be a verified rugged-arse as your da would say,” Wesley says with a wink.

Eventually I decide it’s time to lounge on a blanket like a bump on a log, and stride out of the water, pushing wet hair off of my face. A flash of heat sears through me like a wildfire, nearly making me stumble. I gasp, confused and almost dizzy from…desire? I blink and look around, trying to figure out what’s happening, only for my gaze to lock with Alaric’s. He’s standing a few yards away, a basket in his hand—the handle completely pulverized in his grip. He looks as if he’s been carved from granite, not moving a muscle save his eyes as they skate slowly down my face and throat, over the swells of my breasts and my pebbled nipples that are very much visible through the thin chemise, down further still over my stomach and hips and legs. My chest rises and falls rapidly as my pulse races. The way he’s looking at me…well, no one has ever looked at me like this before. Like nothing else in the world exists, like no one has ever looked so beautiful, like he’s…ravenous.

I swallow hard, unable to move or think or speak. He’s in his typical black gear, the leather hugging his muscular body in ways that are nearly criminal, and the gold of his eyes is a dark, piercing amber as he takes me in.

“Holy shit,” Nova breathes behind me and then I hear splashing as she and Wesley apparently bolt out of the water.

“High General,” Wesley says.

“Do you need us, sir?” Nova asks, voice laced with respect and reverence, slightly at odds with the fact that she’s standing there in her underwear.

I’m still frozen, staring like a buffoon. Alaric seems to pull himself out of whatever trance he’d been in—with some effort, I note—and strides forward. It takes me a bit longer to shake this intense moment off. My entire being yearns to step closer to him, to wrap my arms around him and pull him against me until there’s no way to tell where his body ends and mine begins. It’s more than just physical, it’s an ache in my soul, a strange hollowness that I somehow know can only be filled by him. What in the actual fuck?

“At ease,” he says to Nova and Wesley, but his eyes don’t leave me, and I feel both of their stances shift subtly beside me. “Your chef prepared something for you—your Keeper thought you might be hungry after your training—and I offered to bring it to you on my way to check the southwest watch tower.” He says it so casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for the High General, a Montclare fucking prince , to deliver food to a human.

“Oh,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse and breathy. I clear my throat. “Thank you.” I step forward to take the basket from him, still feeling a little dazed from the force of feeling I felt from him, from the force of my own feelings.

We’ve spent every night together for the last week reading in the study, and by the end of each night, I feel a little closer to him. I know it’s just the blood, the bond between us now because of it, but it doesn’t seem to matter. I feel utterly content with him in a way I can’t quite explain. It’s almost like a piece of myself has been carved away and I only feel whole when Alaric is with me, like he’s the perfect shape to fill that carved away bit. The strangest part is that it feels as if that has always been the case, like I’ve never been complete without him. It doesn’t feel like something that’s only just happened because of the blood he gave me after the attack. I wonder what he feels from me now that I know he’s taken enough of my blood to feel my emotions. I haven’t asked him directly how clear those emotions are, but I know he has to have some kind of idea what I’m feeling, the strange intensity of these confusing thoughts.

“I did not mean to interrupt. Enjoy your afternoon.” He holds my gaze for another second longer before he looks to Nova and Wesley in turn, nodding to them when they place their fists over their hearts. He turns and strides off, his broad shoulders stiff with tension.

I turn to face my friends, hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“Was it just me, or was the High General fucking you with his eyes just now?” Wesley asks, a look on his face somewhere between incredulity, amusement, intrigue, and respect.

“Fuck off,” I say, settling down on the blanket and wrapping one of the towels that Takara had shoved in Wesley’s arms before we’d made our way to the pond earlier around my shoulders.

“No. Seriously. I am an expert in the art of eye-fucking. And that, my friend, was some of the most intense—and might I add sexy —eye-fucking I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

“Dahlia Clayburn,” Nova says, settling beside me on the blanket, toweling her hair dry. “Are you sleeping with your prince?”

“Of course not!” I snap, cheeks heating even more. Nova laughs and lays back, tucking her arms behind her head.

“You know, I’ve heard rumors that all the princes fuck humans, they just pretend that they don’t. None of them are actually above it or still adhere to Etienne’s rules, at least not in private.”

“Well, Alaric isn’t like any of the other princes, is he?” I say again, half exasperated and half…hopeful. Which is stupid. He’s made it clear he would never— could never—do such things…no matter how badly he might want to.

And despite everything, I know he wants…