Page 119 of Forcing Fate

‘Pretty little thing.’

Panic chilled my veins, seeing a man just ahead. But the silhouette was… wrong. Bile rose in my throat. He held his head under his arm—the whites of his eyes stared at me, void of life.

‘It’s your fault. You wanted this.’

That voice. That face.

“You’re not real!” Terror squeezed my heart.

Victyr was dead. He wasn’t here. I looked down at my bare body, and a fresh wave of hysteria consumed me.

‘It’s your fault. It’s all your fault.’

He came closer, repeating the words over and over, echoing through the empty woods. His jaw fell open, revealing rows of white teeth. It gaped wider and wider, growing until the mouth blocked out the head and body.

I stumbled back. My feet slipped on the icy ground and I scrambled to escape the monstrous mouth, threatening to swallow me up. I opened my own mouth to scream, but the sound was airy, suppressed. I crawled as fast as I could, but the snow got deeper, closing in around me. The gaping cavity lunged forward and–

“Thrice curse it all!”

The rough voice tore through the echoes of the dream as I spluttered and choked. Liquid burned down my throat and I jerked upright, coughing and holding my nose. I rubbed my wet face on the blanket and whined against the burn.

I jerked toward the sound of a cup slamming down and gasped as reality came crashing back to me. General Rafe stood with his back to me and his fists clenched at his sides.

He glanced over his shoulder, his eye dark and angry. “Are you with me?” His voice was rough with sleep.

Pulling the blanket up to my chin, I sniffed and nodded. He didn’t respond. He grabbed his fur vest and stormed out into the dark night. I flinched as the door slammed shut.

Had I woken him? Shame warmed my cheeks. Had I woken others?

I groaned and dried my face and hair as best I could. Pushing my legs over the edge of the bed, I stared into the fire. Low flames flickered, warding off winter’s cold.

Time crawled by, and I waited for him to come back, but as the sixth chime sounded, I realized he wouldn’t. I sighed, guilt nagging at me. Not only had I stolen his bed for several nights, I proceeded to have such a terrible nightmare that woke him and scared him off.

I smiled to myself at that thought. My nightmare scared him off. If he had been in it, he probably would have simply glared at the… the…

A tremor ran through me.

Victyr was dead because of me.

Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back and tentatively pushed myself to stand. My legs held, though they trembled, weak from disuse. I tried to smooth out the wrinkles of the uniform Rashel had brought. To sleep in a night shift would have been terribly inappropriate in mixed company.

I searched the space for my blades and found them lying atop his desk. I laced the necklace around my neck, tying the leather cord where Victyr tore it before he tossed it into the snow.

My bandit breaker slid into place on my belt, secured to my left side. General Rafe told me to put it on my less dominant side, though I couldn’t see why. It was harder to reach there, and I had limited coordination with my left hand. Still, I trusted him.

I buckled my belt and mourned the loss of my tailored uniform. This one fit me so poorly. The shirt was far too large, and my trousers were rolled up three times just to keep them from dragging on the floor.

Sighing, I pulled the blanket smooth on the bed and fluffed the pillow. Frowning at the little I could do for him, I grabbed my winter cloak and put it on. After securing it in place, I looked around the room one last time. There was nothing else that I might clean or see to without invading his privacy. Taking a deep breath that my ribs smarted against, I walked over to the door with slow, careful steps.

My muscles complained at the movements, and I had the nagging feeling training would be slow going.

I ate my first meal alone. Every set of eyes in the hall felt like daggers. The men maintained a wide berth—no one approached or spoke to me. When I looked at my fellow cadets, they avoided my gaze and turned away. Their whispers got to me, tugging at my resolve. I finished my meal, then left for the training center that my company used.

When I saw my Commander’s sober face as he spoke with another officer, some of the tension relaxed from my shoulders. The small sense of normalcy built up some of my confidence. Inside, spears, and shields lay against the wall and I smiled, happy to be back in the swing of training.

“Cadet Avyanna.”

Commander Dewal’s voice drew my attention away from the arms and I spun on my heel to salute him.

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