Page 3 of Elas

“About you either,” I say with a shake of my head. “If any of them figure it out, you’ll be in trouble.”

“What does trouble look like around here?”

“It’s—“

“Elas!“ I jerk back, releasing Ronan’s tail and straightening my spine as Bravis shouts at me from across the training ring. “Come here.”

“Yes, sir,” I shout, sparing another glance at Ronan before I jog over.

“By the gods, Khors is a lost cause, isn’t he?” he mutters as he watches Khors stomp away, kicking rocks as he sulks.

“Sir?”

Bravis shakes his head, focusing his attention on me. “You’ve gotten acquainted with Ronan?” It’s disguised as a question, but I’m not foolish enough to accept it as one. I’m certainly not foolish enough to lie. Nothing escapes his notice on this base.

“Briefly, sir. We just exchanged pleasantries.”

A preoccupied hum leaves him as he watches Ronan standing awkwardly in the training ring, his gaze darting nervously from side to side. “Don’t let his size distract you—that boy is a warrior. Mark my words, someday he’ll be one of our best.”

“That kid?” My skepticism comes in bounds. Sure, he’s squirrelly, but he’s small and has already admitted he hates fighting.

“His mother was one of the most fearsome warriors I ever met.”

“She was military?” I ask in surprise, but Bravis shakes his head.

“Once upon a time, yes. But she was also a royal pain in my ass. Constantly challenging orders and refusingdirectives. Ronan was nothing more than a babe on her hip when she and that useless husband of hers fled.”

“They deserted?”

He nods, squaring his intense stare on me. “Ronan can never know, in case he decides to follow in dear old mommy’s footsteps. He is too soft, Elas. Shielded by a life of luxury, living in the woods with peacemakers and radicals. I need you to toughen him up.”

“Toughen him up?” I repeat in shock. Ronan is just a kid, while I’m pushing twenty-five and nearly twice his size. “Sir, I don’t think—“

“That’s right, Elas, you don’t think. You are not here tothink. You are here to follow orders…myorders. And I’m ordering you to take him into that ring and demonstrate exactly what will be expected of him under my command.”

“You want me to train him?”

“I want you to show him what I require of my warriors.”

Icy dread clenches my stomach as bile rises into the back of my throat. “You expect me to… beat him up? Sir, he’s still in shock from the attack on his village. What would—“

“Thought you only exchanged pleasantries?” he interrupts, a deadly calm to his voice.

“Wedid,”I stress, pushing my fingers through my short, dense curls. “But itjusthappened. Of course he’s going to mention it. He’s mourning.”

“Which means he’s malleable. This is a crucial time to mold him into the monster I need him tobe.” He sets those eyes on me once again. “Don’t permanently injure him, but show him what it means to be strong.”

Bravis shouts for Ronan to join me in the ring, and Ronan timidly nods and walks towards the rack of practice swords. “Oh, you won’t be needing that,” Bravis yells, and Ronan glances at him in question. “Hand to hand combat, first.”

Ronan’s eyes get wide as they meet mine, sweeping up and down my much larger body. “Sir?” he finally croaks.

“Elas is going to… show you the ropes.” Ronan gulps again and nods. Bravis leans in, speaking directly into my ear, and I barely fight back a shiver. “You understand the consequences of disappointing me, Elas.”

Visions of cramped, dark spaces flood my mind, and my flinch is involuntary. Even in the bright afternoon, I feel the crippling sensation of the walls closing in on me, remembering how my throat closes up when I want to scream but can’t figure out how.

“Yes, sir,” I manage with a shaky voice, and he releases another of those dark chuckles before he pats me on the cheek.

“That’s a good soldier.”

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