Page 142 of Forcing Fate

He pushed off the door frame and closed the distance between us, forcing me to look up at him. “What did you think I would ask?” His voice dropped to a dangerous level.

Something flared in his gaze—the same heated spark that told me to run away as fast as I could.

“Not that,” I huffed, turning to give him my shoulder.

I glanced across the empty barracks. There wasn’t a soul in sight. A few stayed, but most had left. We were only given two holidays as cadets. Most didn’t want to waste it.

I looked back at him to find a confident, knowing smile on his face. I cursed the idea of him realizing what he did to me. If he knew he made me flustered or that I was attracted to him, he would use it to his advantage and unnerve me more often.

An ugly thought reared itself. I had seen his reactions to me on the beach. He didn’t have a mate, at least not one that anyone had mentioned. Perhaps I could push him as well.

I shook my head, ridding myself of that terrible idea.

And a terrible idea it was. To think that I would win in any battle against him, let alone attempt to taunt him because I was off limits, was foolish.

“Tell me about this team you’re putting together,” I sighed.

He pointed to the stool and walked into his room. I tilted my head and noted the setting sun, but picked up the stool and followed. Once inside, he took it from me and gestured to the bed. I sat, remembering almost six months ago when I laid here suffering from fever after my attack.

He perched on his seat and folded his hands behind his head. “You know why I was sent back?” he asked.

“Because of your injury,” I said, motioning to his eye.

He scoffed with a bitter smile. “That’s what they want people to think.”

I tilted my head in puzzlement. Why would they send him back if he wasn’t injured? Why would they remove a valuable asset from the front?

“Why then?” I asked when he made no further comment.

“I’m reckless.” He lifted his chin with a cocky smile, as if it was something to be proud of.

As if I didn’t know that already. I blinked to avoid the urge to roll my eyes.

“They claimed I needed time in the homelands or I would get killed.”

I nodded. I could see that happening with how stubborn he was.

He took a deep breath and reached under the cloth, rubbing at his eye. “I’m not going to give you details, cadet.” He pinned me with his dark gaze. “I got men killed. A lot of men. I was reckless with the lives of others. So, they sent me back to the homelands to cool off.”

He leaned forward and there was a gleam in his gaze—a wicked, bloodthirsty gleam. “I’ve been thinking… I need a special team. If I led a group of unique soldiers who fought how I told them to, they might not die so easily.”

I winced at his words. These were men, human beings, and he just referenced them dying as if it were nothing.

“But soldiers are trained to fight in a company on the front lines. Why would you need a special team to fight with everyone else?” I asked.

He leaned back again, and his dark eye judged me. I raised my eyebrow in question. Finally, he offered me a shrug.

“I won’t fight on the front lines.”

My mouth fell open. He wouldn’t fight on the front? Then where? He couldn’t fight in the sky with the dragons. That had to mean he was going to–

“You want to take me, a first year recruit, behind enemy lines?” I waited for him to squint, acknowledging he might have misjudged me before going on. “As you so graciously put it, I’m not good at anything. What makes you think I’ll last more than the span of a breath in their territory?”

He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Decided you’re not destined for greatness, eh?”

I glared. I hadn’t answered before and I wouldn’t answer now.

He shifted his feet and gave me a bored look. “They’re training you wrong.”

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