Page 29 of Crown of Iron
I scoot closer to him and point just as more colors waver overhead. “Right the—” I bump his shoulder, and the words leave me in a puff of air. His power punches through me, and it's exhilarating. Every facet is now so clear, the cloaking shadows, scorching flames, and brush of awareness. It’s as distinct as the colors in the sky and so strong I swear I could control it myself.
“Aurora,” he says. “It's a disturbance in the atmosphere. It's common and why I like it here.”
My mouth goes slack at his casual explanation of the lights. He doesn't feel it. All the energy flowing from him to me and he's oblivious. I might as well have asked him if he sees the air we breathe.
As I move away from him, I instantly miss the feeling. I clear my throat and return to our discussion about the lights. “You knew what I was talking about from the beginning. If you weren't the general, I'd?—”
“You would what?” He leans back and a strand of dark hair falls over his eye.
“I'd beat your ass,” I say, adding a little sass to my tone.
“Would you?”
“I would.”
Kyron laughs and gets to his feet. “I'll tell you what, we'll meet on the sparring field at dawn tomorrow. If you?beat my ass, I'll let you join the morning training sessions with the rest of the new soldiers.”
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I stand and brush the dirt from my palms. “You have a deal.”
He holds out his hand, and I hesitate, staring at his calloused fingers. I swallow my reservation about touching him and place my palm against his. A sigh threatens to escape my lips as that glorious power returns. The shake lasts longer than it should, and it takes everything in me to slide my fingers out of his.
I've secured my opportunity to prove my worth and found my chance to move forward with my plan. I will not yield. This match will be mine for the taking no matter what the cost. I just have to overcome one obstacle.
Kyron LeFur.
Ten
Greer leans in her doorway, a hand on her hip and her eyes following my every movement as I make my way through the quiet hallway. I can't believe she waited up for me. Kyron must have given her strict orders to make sure I returned to my room every night. If only she knew what I'd been up to all day. I wonder if she would be more surprised to learn that I spied on the general, or that my punishment for Kyron catching me was to clean a washroom. I'm sure she would say he went too easy on me, and she would be right.
“Where have you been all day?” she asks.
“Don't worry, I was doing the bidding of our fierce leader.” It's not a complete lie, but there’s no need for her to learn how I came to do his bidding. Besides, if Kyron wants her to know, he’ll tell her. I open my door and wave at her over my shoulder. “Goodnight, Colonel.”
She huffs and steps inside her quarters.
Removing my jacket, I cross my small room. My living space is nothing like Leif's. A bed sits against the wall with a four-drawer dresser at the foot of it. My other accommodations are limited to a multipurpose table for two and a washroom. It's bland, functional, and better than sleeping in the stables.
I complete my nightly routine and crawl under the soft sheets,sinking into the mattress. With my arms folded over my stomach, I stare at the ceiling. My mind flashes through thoughts like lightning during a storm. I came here with a single focus, but as the days carry on, things grow complicated. The people around me divide my attention, and my purpose feels lost in the chaos of Basecamp.
My biggest concern is still Kyron. Everything I witnessed today replays in my head. I don't dwell too long on the kindness he showed Shianne and her children. It may have been his guilt that drove him to her doorstep, but it’s clear to see that Blaze and Mia are the main reason he returns every other week. The compassion and attentiveness he shows the two goes beyond sorrow and earning forgiveness.
Superseding the thoughts of his gentler side I saw today are the questions about his gifts. I can't stop thinking about them. This is on the verge of being obsessive, but his power is intense. Tonight, it was demanding, drawing me in, and I couldn't get enough. If I wouldn't appear insane, I could have curled up on his lap and basked in the addictive feeling all night.
“Shit,” I whisper, shaking the image from my head.
I've never understood why the lure of a comfortable life keeps Cyffreds in Stigian. Beautiful things and a carefree life can't always be worth the draining of their power and ultimately death. But if they are feeling what I do around Kyron, I get it. Maybe it’s an addiction of their own.
There are countless theories about how the Stigians siphon power, but no official confirmation. It's feared if our people know how siphoning power works, the curiosity of some will get the better of them. We can’t cross that line, or we’ll battle within our walls and the foundation of our free kingdom will crumble.
Kyron could only earn those black eyes in Stigian. He knows what me and so many others don't. What if he is siphoning gifts and everyone is so enraptured with the sensation that he emanates they didn't even know? Maybe it’s why the soldiers follow him so blindly. Did he siphon from my father, and he is the reason he left our family? Did he do the same to me tonight? It's the only explanation that makes sense.
“Asshole.” I punch my pillow and turn onto my side.
The rest of my night is much of the same, flopping around and cursing Kyron. I question my theory, poking holes in it, only to confirm I have no idea what’s going on. But something isn't right about Kyron LeFur.
Despite not getting a wink of sleep, I'm up before daylight and readyto fight. The sun sits behind the horizon, casting orange rays across a cobalt sky. The crisp breeze catches my ponytail, swinging it to match the tempo of the sword on my hip. I march past the obstacle course and the archery range, and when I reach the sparring field, three familiar faces await me.
Kyron's top-ranking officers have each put their own spin on their officer's uniform. Terro has buttoned his thigh-length olive jacket all the way up, each brassy button glittering in the sun. The jacket Ulric wears has seen better days, tattered around the cuffs, and left open to display the cream tunic underneath. But it's Greer who looks like she is ready to kick ass and ask questions later. A black belt cinches her jacket together and holds a sheath housing a wicked-looking knife. Buckles and small compartments run down the outside of her thigh-high boots to store smaller weapons. The trio has gone all out for today's event.
