Page 123 of Forcing Fate

Irritation welled within me, and I clamped my eyes shut. He knew how to get me to fight, he just wanted to see it.

“Good to know you’re not afraid to fight dirty,” he snorted.

I squinted, examining his body. I was torn. Part of me was proud of the red streaks left by my nails. The other part was horrified that I had drawn blood from a General. I was sure if Corporal Bane ever heard about this, I would be jailed for a month.

His eye sparkled with mirth, and I frowned. Why was he so happy?

“You didn’t throw a punch. You fought with your claws and fangs.” He tilted his head, looking me over. “You’re like a feral kitten. Cute and fluffy, but wild and dangerous when cornered.”

I glared at him. He was comparing me to a kitten? I shuddered—Victyr called me a kitten, too. I bristled, chasing away the intrusive thought. For a man who barely spoke three words in a row while in public, after a fight, he was positively talkative.

“But you’ll teach me to fight like a man?” I asked as he stood and held out a hand. I frowned, but took it and allowed him to pull me to my feet.

“No. I won’t.” He gave me a dangerous smile. “I’ll teach you to fight like a dragon.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

By the time General Rafe was done with me, I was sweating, trembling from exhaustion, and gasping for breath. He dismissed me by telling me to go wash up. I stumbled after Niehm with my belongings tucked under my arm.

“That man… there’s something wrong with him,” she sighed, tapping at her temple with a raised brow.

I threw a glance over my shoulder, making sure he was out of earshot, and shrugged. She was probably right—he was a bit messed up in the head. And honestly, it was quite terrifying at times, but now I knew how to throw a proper punch. He taught me what the Weaponless Combat Master had not taken the time to—how to step in and punch with not only my fist but my hips as well.

General Rafe claimed it would be more effective for me to practice with the heels of my hands instead of a fist for now. He’d flicked my knuckles, saying they were small and fragile, that I’d easily break one if I landed a punch wrong.

He had me throw punches against his palms and wouldn’t ease up until I gave it everything I had. At one point, I tried tricking him by making faces and grunting with effort. Somehow, he read me well enough to know I wasn’t giving it every ounce I had. If he had to taunt or humiliate me to entice me to give my all, he did.

I was dragging my feet when a set of boots joined mine.

“Avyanna.”

I gave Willhelm a small, tired smile.

“You look terrible,” he said, pulling back and making a face.

“Thank you,” I groaned and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

His brows pulled together with worry. “Honestly, are you alright? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I did fine in training. I just want to get cleaned up and eat.”

One foot, then another. Energy drained out of me with every step. My hands trembled uncontrollably, and I tried to hide them under my cloak. We were almost to the clearing, walking through the small patch of woods.

“She took quite the beating,” Niehm offered.

Willhelm’s steps faltered before accompanying my slower ones. “Begging your pardon?” he choked out—clearly confused.

“Apparently, our resident General has decided to take it upon himself to teach Avyanna how to defend herself,” she explained.

“With a blade?” Distrust thickened his voice.

“Perhaps—though today it was more or less hand-to-hand combat.”

I blinked rapidly as spots danced before my eyes. We were stepping into the clearing. Almost there.

Willhelm grunted. I knew he wanted to say that it was not the General’s place, but he didn’t work that way. He was far too principled to speak ill of a General, even if he disapproved.

Cold sweat broke out along my back and temples. “I think I should sit,” I muttered.