Page 152 of Forcing Fate

“Enough, Vy.”

“Don’t call me that!” I shrieked, stepping toward him and launching a fist up at his face. “Sir!” I added for good measure.

He jerked away from my strike and watched me with open amusement, crossing his arms over his thick chest. He braced his feet, and I stepped close and slammed a fist into his core. His abs flexed against it, taking the blow.

I growled, frustrated, and darted back a few paces. Even in hand-to-hand combat, I had a fair chance at defending myself, but my offense was almost laughable. Especially against someone so large and thick as General Rafe. It was as if he had no weakness. Every part of him was solid and covered with muscle. His experience in fighting gave him an edge over me as well, and nothing I did seemed to take him by surprise.

I refused to go for his eye, no matter how mad I was. He trusted me with that secret, and I wouldn’t exploit that weakness in a mock fight.

He chuckled and rocked back on his heels. “You’re an open book.”

I sighed and stepped back. Rubbing the heels of my hands against my eyes, I tugged at my short hair. “I’m done,” I groaned, turning away.

“About time,” he said in approval.

I trudged off, knowing I looked like a whipped puppy, but unable to help it. It seemed as if General Rafe held all the answers. If I wanted to learn to actually fight? He would teach me. Who had information concerning my father, answers to questions I hadn’t given thought to in many years? General Rafe. I kicked at a loose stone on my way to the bunkhouse. Who would get me killed in a year? General Rafe. Who was I also stupidly attracted to? General Rafe.

I didn’t keep a mental distance from him only because he was a crude ox. I did it to protect myself. Too many times I found my thoughts wandering to the moments he had me pinned to the ground, his heavy weight pressing against me. My mind replayed that moment on the beach, when something clicked between us. His glances at my lips made me realize I had some effect on him.

My body betrayed me. I shook off those feelings and didn’t let myself dwell on them. Those womanly desires had no place on the battlefield—or the barracks.

He was a handsome man, in a rugged, brutish way. Any woman would appreciate his muscular physique, but what about his attitude? He was harsh, sometimes cruel. How could I find a man like that attractive? Sure, he’d proven he had a small conscience—he’d rescued me more than once. He offered to train me and did so. I could hold my own now, thanks to him. That day on the beach, he showed me he had the tiniest streak of caring under that rough exterior.

Yet, of all people, I couldn’t be attracted to him. He was my bloody General.

He was the bloody General.

Niehm met me at the bunkhouse, but sensing my mood left me alone. She walked with me to and from the washing cave, and I was grateful for her company. She read my moods well-enough to know that trying to talk at the moment would get her nowhere.

I wanted to ask someone for advice. I couldn’t decide what I should do. Everyone always seemed to know exactly what they should do, but I didn’t. In the past, I chose the option that made the most sense, and it never turned out well.

Niehm was hot-headed, and though she was intelligent, I knew her loathing of General Rafe would color her opinion.

She said her goodbyes and left for the school grounds, casting me a concerned look. I nodded to her and returned my toiletries to my room before setting off to the dining hall. If there was one person I could trust on the barracks’ side, it was Willhelm.

I rubbed my arms against the autumn chill and looked up at the clouds. Perhaps we would have an early snow. The dragons were more lethargic than normal. Some of the older ones were already entering brumation.

In the dining hall, I picked up a plate. The line was short, as most soldiers went straight for their meal after dismissal. I offered a small smile to the cook’s assistant, who slapped a potato on my plate and ladled a thick chowder over it.

I grabbed a spoon and headed to the table where Willhelm sat with his friends. Sergeant Greyson and Corporal Bane sat beside each other, and Rory sat by Willhelm as always. I took a seat by Willhelm and dug into my meal.

“So I was explaining it to Briggs, and he had a laughing fit over it,” Greyson was saying.

Corporal Bane gave his friend a tired look. “A Corporal should have handled it,” he droned.

“And ruin the fun? I think not. I’d pay to see Briggs’ retaliation,” he replied with a grin.

“Speaking of fun,” Rory stood and moved to sit at my side.

I paused with my spoon halfway to my mouth, watching him warily.

He leaned his heavy arms on the table with a cheesy, knowing grin. “I heard you had some fun last night, too.”

My heart dropped, and I stuffed the bite into my mouth, buying myself time. I glanced around the table. Greyson observed his nails, uninterested. Willhelm seemed intrigued, but Corporal Bane pinned me with his cold eyes.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s all bark and no bite,” Rory assured, noting my anxious glance.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled.

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