Page 161 of Forcing Fate

He let go, watching me as I stood there trembling in rage. How many children? How many babes had been sacrificed due to that method? Babes were innocent. It was not their fault that such a horror had taken place. What if a mother wanted to keep the babe? That choice should be left to her, and her alone. The idea of forcing women to drink the tea, without their consent, had my blood boiling. Was General Rafe hinting that he forced women to drink it? Perhaps he had.

At that moment, I no longer knew if I trusted him.

A wicked smile appeared on his face. I whirled and headed toward the fortress’ large wooden doors, hidden in the dark of night. With the light of the fire behind me, it was difficult to see anything. I fumbled for the handle and pulled the door open.

A young man sat on the cot next to mine, reading a book by candlelight. I took a calming breath as he noticed me. All I could tell from my distance is that he had sand-colored hair. His focus returned to the pages, dismissing me.

Perhaps I’d get along with this one. He read books and wanted to ignore people. We at least had that in common.

Stepping in, I pulled the door shut behind me. At my bunk, I shuffled my things about. I realized I hadn’t washed my uniform, even if there was a place. I also couldn’t sleep in only my tunic while sharing a room with men.

I snuck a glance at the man next to my cot. He appeared young—perhaps close to my age, if not a few winters older. His high cheekbones, straight nose, and stiff posture made him a vision of… grace. He didn’t quite fit in with the normal recruit kind. There was an air about him, as if he thought himself too good for it. Though how he managed to convey that while simply reading a book, I had no idea.

“Share your flame?” I asked, holding my small candle.

He eyed me with disgust, but shrugged. I lit the wick and grabbed my clean uniform, heading to the storage room to change. This would be a difficult situation with no door or walls to hide me from the others. Though, to be fair, I wouldn’t have that luxury on the battlefield either.

I dressed and returned to my cot. With no blanket, I’d have to use my soiled tunic from today to ward off the chill.

“My name is Avyanna,” I offered, blowing out my candle.

He ignored me.

I bit my cheek. Perhaps he was shy. “Zephath, correct? Blain mentioned that was your bunk.” I didn’t need conversation, just a simple ‘hail’ would be pleasant enough after the horrors of today.

“Then I’m sure he also informed you I’ll not be needing your services.” His words were crisp and held the sharp tone of nobility.

“Begging your pardon?”

My services? As a fellow soldier? Was he a lone wolf, preferring to fight alone?

He looked up at me, and my lips fell into a frown at the malice in his eyes.

“Your whoring.”

I recoiled as if he slapped me, going from shock to anger. I cleared the bed and drew my push dagger, pouncing on him. He fell back, letting his book fall to the floor, and glared up at me as I straddled him, giving me a look as if I inconvenienced him.

“I’m not a whore, you steaming pile of dragon dung,” I snarled, pressing my blade to his throat.

Too many soldiers called me that, both to my face and behind my back. Too many comments were made in passing. I let them get away with it. But if I was to be an equal in this Tennan, I would have to stand my ground. I couldn’t let them push me around.

“It looks like you’re well-versed in the position,” he sighed, waving a hand at my seat on his hips.

I growled and pressed the dagger deeper into his skin, looking up as the door swung open. General Rafe halted in the doorway, watching us. He surveyed the scene, judged it, then proceeded to ignore us, walking across the room to the stairwell.

“Call me that again, and it won’t be your head I’ll be removing,” I hissed, sliding off him.

So much for trying to befriend him.

I returned to my cot and flopped down, pulling my soiled tunic over my chest. It would be a miserably bleak night, not only because the temperature was dropping, but because I felt even more alone than I had before.

Something chased me—something I couldn’t see. Cold and numb, I stumbled, tearing through the woods. Underbrush ripped at my skin, trying to catch me, yank me down.

I shot into a clearing, gasping for breath. An eerie cry pierced the air. As I dared a glance back to glimpse what hunted me, a cold shadow blocked the sun, covering me in darkness. I looked up in horror. A dragon swooped into the clearing, claws extended. Terror squeezed my throat as my feet skidded to a stop. I backed away, petrified, as it opened its great maw.

‘Hold her! Thrice-curse it!’

Branches and roots grew from the trees. Dirt, rocks, and leaves scattered as they snatched my arms, holding me fast. I tried to scream as footsteps pounded toward me from behind and I thrashed against the hold.

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