Page 138 of Forcing Fate

I hissed and rammed an elbow at his core. For once, it landed with solid impact, and he huffed in response. Alas, that was the only sign I hit him. He reached his left arm around and pinned mine against my sides, tucking me against his body.

“Cut it, Avyanna.”

“Who said I’m joining your ‘team’?” I snarled and squirmed against him. “I didn’t!”

He growled and tightened his hold. “I won. That’s my reward.”

I screamed between clenched teeth and fought with everything I had. I sunk my nails into his thighs like claws and tried stomping on his toes. He took all the abuse, grunting with each blow, but didn’t move.

“You stubborn mule! Let go!” I snapped, trying to bite at his arm.

His grip on my hair tightened, and he pulled my head back, a safe distance from his arm. “Cut your hair. I’ve given you long enough to do it yourself.”

I stilled at his words. Had he been taking it easy on me in training? Had he seen a weakness and not exploited it? That was unlike him. Why would he do that? It didn’t make sense… unless… unless he was being gentle with me before.

General Rafe? Being gentle?

Absurd.

“No,” I whispered.

He sighed and yanked my head back further, craning it back at an odd angle to look up at him. Tears sprang to my eyes as my scalp stung from his tugging.

“I’m not asking.” His eye was dark, all traces of humor and amusement gone.

“No, you don’t under–”

“I do,” he said as he tugged again.

I yelped and blinked to clear my vision.

His voice lowered. “It’s pretty.”

My breath hitched in my chest. My mind reeled with confusion. He was hurting me, perhaps trying to help me, and calling me pretty? My brain spun, grasping at what was going on.

“You’re a woman, and you think it’s pretty.” His eye left mine and traveled to my hair, and he rubbed it between his fingers. “Pretty, but illogical. It’s a weakness your enemies will exploit. It’s something else to care for on the front lines when you won’t even have enough water to drink, let alone wash with.

“You think it’s precious, you consider it dear. It’s a beautiful part of you, but will it be beautiful caked in mud and blood? Will it be beautiful when you won’t have the time and leisure to put it up? The Shadows will snatch it and use it as a bridle to have their way with you.” His gaze returned to my watering eyes. “Cut it, Avyanna.”

I snarled and tore myself from his embrace, and he relinquished me, content he had made his point.

“Fine!”

I didn’t want to. A few soldiers wore their hair long, though not the length of mine. I fought for it because he was right—I thought it was pretty. If there was one thing about myself I considered beautiful, or that made me stand out, it was my hair. Without it, there would be nothing feminine about me. My physique would remain female, but all my femininity would be hidden. I would wear men’s clothes, have a man’s haircut, and train like a man.

I blinked away rebel tears and glared at General Rafe. He had a weakness, too. One I had never exploited.

“Again,” I demanded, raising my fists to my chin.

He shrugged a large shoulder and dropped into a fighting stance.

This time, I threw a punch and positioned myself with care. He grabbed my hand, and I swung out with my leg, knowing what he would do. He rushed forward, pinning me to the ground. I thought it through as I moved, trapping his arm with mine. I pulled it to my chest, gripping with the joint of my elbow. He grunted, and I braved a glance at his face, seeing recognition—he knew I was doing something.

He braced his legs on either side of me, and I snapped my right leg over his. He dropped his weight at the same time I heaved with my left leg, pushing against his body and somehow managing to roll his massive frame.

I panted and sat on top of him, and for good measure, placed my hand on his thick neck.

He smirked up at me. “Good girl.”

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