Defiance Rising

by Amy Miles

TWENTY-EIGHT

  As December gives way to a bitterly cold January, I struggle to keep Bastien from my mind. His seclusion has become far more pronounced. Days go by and I hardly catch a glimpse of him. When I do, my guilt swells to suffocating proportions.

  Since that fateful training session, my relationship with Eamon has been tense. I can’t seem to put Bastien from my mind and that has carved a chasm between Eamon and me. After two months, I had hoped to be a better girlfriend to Eamon, but I am failing miserably. The hand holding has advanced to minor cuddling, but I have yet to allow him close enough to risk a first kiss. I can’t bear the thought of disappointing him.

  Training sessions with Kyan are more frustrating now than ever. We know my trigger, but are unable to access it again, for obvious reasons, so I am failing once again. Even though Kyan doesn’t show his disappointment, I know it’s there. It’s in the tone of his voice and at the end of his clipped words.

  He pushes me harder now as winter progresses and the risk of attack becomes imminent. All I can pray for is that, when the time comes, and my life is in danger once more, some of Kyan’s training will help me to control the Shadow within.

  Today’s lesson was the hardest of all. I step into the dining cabin and smile at Eamon’s loud call. Limping to his side, I gingerly sit down on the wooden bench beside him. “No offense, but you look terrible,” he says.

  “Gee, thanks,” I groan as I lift my leg over the bench. Even without scanning the room, I know Bastien is gone. He hardly ever comes in to eat any more. Probably still out practicing in the clearing. “Kyan has me trying to deflect objects. It’s not going so well.”

  Eamon frowns, brushing his finger lightly across the fading bruise along my cheek. “He’s pushing you too hard. Every night you come in here looking like you wrestled with a bear. I think you need to take a break. Drakon isn’t foolish enough to attack in the dead of winter.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “I agree,” Toren speaks up, leaning forward to join our conversation. “The scouts are showing movement among Drakon’s ranks. It is possible they are planning an attack.”

  “Or they are moving out of the region. We have no idea what their movement could mean,” Eamon protests.

  I place a hand on his arm. “Either way I trust that Kyan knows best. I’m fine with his rigid training schedule, but I would kill for a nice dip in the Cascades.”

  Eamon’s frustration melts away as he wraps his arm around my waist. “Maybe someday we can go back.”

  “Perhaps.” I look toward the platter in the center of the table, grab a chunk of meat off and tear into it. It is lukewarm but tasty enough. “Kyan wants to advance me up to deflecting stun lasers next week. I might need you to carry me in here each night, Eamon.”

  Toren’s eyes widen with surprise. “You can do that?”

  “Apparently. Kyan thinks someday I might be able to deflect the red ones, but I’m not ready to test that one anytime soon!”

  “He’s insane!” Eamon growls. “If he thinks I’m going to let you...”

  “Kyan would never put Illyria’s life in danger. You know that, Eamon.” Zahra’s voice is tight with reproach at Eamon’s protest.

  A pounding begins in the back of my head, slowly inching its way forward as I chew down several more bits of meat. I hardly taste it. A deep weariness sinks into my muscles as I slump against Eamon.

  “Maybe you should turn in early tonight.” He suggests. I lean my head back into his shoulder and close my eyes. “I could come tuck you in.”

  My stomach lurches at Zahra’s snicker. I open my eyes to see a faint flush rising along Eamon’s shirt collar and silently groan. Even if I weren’t desperately exhausted I would have found some way to put him off. I know he is waiting…but I just can’t.

  “No, I don’t want to take you away from your dinner,” I say, leaning in closer to reassure him. “I’ll be out in less than a minute anyways.”

  “Are you sure?” Eamon watches me as I turn and push up off the bench, feeling more like a crippled old woman than a teenager.

  “Yeah.” I smile at him, dipping low to brush my lips against his cheek before heading out the door. I hope that that will ease his hurt feelings.

  I burrow into the heavy lining of my coat and hurry along the path. Our cabin isn’t the closest, but it is only a few minutes’ walk from the dining cabin, an eternity in artic temperatures.

  As I approach the unlit cabin, a light in the distance catches my eyes. I frown, confused by the candle flickering from the partially opened door of the armory. Only a couple people have access to that room. Something is wrong.

  My exhaustion is shoved aside by an adrenaline spike as I rush forward, careful to avoid the icy bits along the sunken portions of the ground. I drop into a fighting crouch, ignoring the biting pain in my right leg. I mull over the idea of calling for help, but Kyan is out on patrol and I don’t want to worry Toren and Eamon needlessly. Besides, it’s been too long since I had a proper fight.

  As I inch toward the door, I can hear footsteps inside creaking back and forth on the boards. I crane my neck, trying to peer around the door in hopes of catching a glimpse of the intruder. Silence falls over the armory and I go completely still.

  The door bursts open and a dark figure leaps at me, pinning me to the ground. The weight of him is crushing as strong hands seize control of my arms. I fight back, arching my back, bucking wildly as I attempt to knock him off me.

  His legs clamp down around my waist, painfully immobilizing my lower half. He grunts as I head butt him. Blood sprays my face as his nose shatters. His grasp on my wrists loosens and I’m able to rock him off.

  Clawing at the dirt, I pull myself across the ground, fighting to free myself from his hold. I kick back with my boot and am rewarded with a thud followed by a string of expletives. I reach out, straining for any form of weapon I can use against him.

  My fingers wrap around a small, knobby tree branch, and I roll onto my back and come up swinging. A thud reverberates down my arm as I connect with his arm. With a sickening groan, he collapses and his weight shifts away.

  I shove him off, freeing my legs. One hard kick to his stomach has him gasping in the dark. I scramble to my knees and stagger to my feet. Shooting pains torpedo down my right leg, slowing me to an awkward hobble.

  Only a couple feet from the moonlit path, he slams me from behind, knocking me to the ground. My face smashes against the rocks, slashing through several layers of skin. Stars float before my eyes as I fight to remain conscious.

  The man’s weight atop me is unbearable as I free my arms. His body spreads along mine, pinning me face first into the dirt. I reach back and claw his arms, raking my nails down his exposed skin. I fight to call on my powers, confused by the Shadow’s lack of appearance.

  An elbow slams into my side and I feel my ribs crack. My cries are muffled by the ground. My attacker stiffens, hesitating. His moment of indecision is all I need. I snap my head back and connect with his chin. He howls with pain as I toss him off balance and crawl toward the path.

  Aminah! My scream reverberates through my entire body and I grimace as pain echoes from every extremity.

  In seconds, Toren will arrive, but for the moment I am alone and very much in danger.

  “Get back here,” a deep voice snarls behind me.

  I reach the path as the last blow falls. A shriek rips from my lips as a boot connects with my right leg, shattering everything below my knee. I collapse to the ground, my leg bent at a sickening angle. My body convulses as I roll onto my side, screaming, cradling my shattered leg. The moonlight overhead blurs out of focus as the pain consumes my thoughts.

  “Illyria?” The man cries out, his voice filled with dismay. “Oh God! What have I done?”

  The world spins as I’m swept away by a torrent of pain. Loud sounds rise around me but quickly fad
e into a garbled mess. I feel woozy and welcome the sweet call of oblivion as darkness consumes my vision. The last thing I see, emerging from the shadows, is Bastien’s face riddled with shame and horror.

  “Bastien,” I call as my eyes flutter open. Pain radiates up from my leg and my stomach clenches painfully with wave after wave of nausea. “Where’s Bastien?”

  “Kyan!” Aminah’s scream makes me wince as pain lances behind my eye.

  Hurried footsteps crunch on the ice-glazed ground. Kyan kneels beside me, tucking his hand under my head to help ease me up. “How are you feeling?”

  “How do you think I feel? My leg can touch my freaking hip!” I groan and clamp my eyes shut. Yelling was a bad idea.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to heal you yet. I’ve been a bit…preoccupied.”

  The instant Kyan’s eyes flicker away from mine I know there is trouble that far exceeds my own. “Tell me.”

  He grimaces and darts a wary glance at me. “I’ve been trying to keep Eamon from killing Bastien.”

  I feel a dark and visceral panic at his words. “Take me there.”

  “No way,” Aminah shakes her head. “You can’t be moved like this.”

  “Kyan,” I growl, staring him down. “Either you take me or so help me I will crawl the entire way on my own.”

  Kyan blows out a heavy sigh. “Fine, but I want it noted that I think this is a very bad idea.”

  “I second that,” Aminah mutters from over my shoulder.

  “Eamon doesn’t stand a chance against Bastien,” I grunt as Kyan pulls me into his arms. I bite down on my lip as tears spill from my eyes. My vision wavers, but I manage to remain conscious.

  “Kyan, stop this. Please!” Aminah pleads, following right behind. “She’s going to pass out again.”

  “No. I won’t.” I grit my teeth and force my mind away from the pain.

  Kyan walks with as much care as he can manage, but each step is excruciating. I clamp down on my jaw to keep from shrieking or biting off my tongue. He carries me around the edge of the armory and back toward the center of camp. A large bonfire is blazing and Caldonians hoot and holler at Eamon and Bastien, each circling the other in the center of the cheering crowd.

  Toren turns as we approach. His face is grim, his stance tense. “I’ve tried everything to stop them, but your men aren’t helping things, Kyan. They keep egging them on.”

  “I will handle my men just as soon as I get Illyria somewhere safe.”

  “Put me down,” I command.

  Kyan’s head whips down toward me. “You can’t stand on your own.”

  “Watch me.”

  The instant I’m forced to stand on my own foot I know I’ve made a grave mistake. The pain is unbearable as I grip onto Kyan. He watches me silently, but his eyes speak volumes. ‘I told you so’ rings through loud and clear.

  “What if you lose control again?” Toren protests as I hop forward, using Kyan for support. “There are over a hundred people here, Illyria. We can’t risk it!”

  I glare at Toren. “I’m not asking permission. Leave if you want to, take Aminah, but don’t get in my way. If I don’t stop this fight, one of them will end up dead.”

  Toren grinds his teeth and grabs Aminah’s arm, dragging her away. I don’t know if they actually leave the camp. A part of me almost hopes that they do.

  “Kyan?”

  His gaze swivels away from the fight before us. “I want you to leave, too.”

  “You can barely stand on your own. You need me!”

  “No. I need to get closer. That is all.”

  “But…”

  “Do this for me,” I cut off his protest. “I need to know you are safe. My friends need you.”

  He relents slowly and finally nods as we reach the edge of the crowd. “I will get you through the mob.”

  The sound of fists hitting flesh and grunts of pain brings a familiar warmth to the palms of my hands. My anger rises as I catch glimpses of the guys locked in battle, their shirts off, backs rippling with sweat despite the frigid temperatures.

  The crowd parts for us. Some back away, realizing this fight is about to get uglier, but others fill in behind us, eager to see what I will do. It is no secret around camp that the tension between these two guys revolves around me. Many are curious about our relationship. I’m guessing those are the ones who stick around to see what happens.

  “Eamon!” I yell.

  Eamon and Bastien go still, the whites of their eyes glowing in the firelight. Bastien staggers forward. “Illyria, I am so sorry.”

  His eyes bulge as Eamon grabs his throat. “How dare you speak to her? Look at what you did! Look at her leg!”

  He throws Bastien to the ground, rearing back his leg to kick Bastien in the ribs. Bastien grunts, curling in on himself, but he doesn’t fight against Eamon’s attack.

  “Stop! You’re hurting him!” I hop forward and nearly black out from the pain. Kyan and Brym grab hold of me from either side. I offer a pained smile of thanks.

  “That’s the point.” Eamon’s pointed kick lands on Bastien’s ribs again. The splintering of bones echoes loudly in my ears. Bastien’s howl makes me see red.

  “Time to go, Kyan.”

  He hesitates, but instantly releases me when he sees the swirl of black in my eyes. “Everyone back!”

  Bastien rolls to his feet, his gaze narrowed as his lips peel back over his teeth. He stalks forward, only showing the slightest hint of pain. I know this stance and the deadly gleam in his eye. Eamon is in trouble.

  He dips low and flies across the small space, his shoulder ramming low into Eamon’s gut. Eamon flies backward, his head bouncing off the ground. Eamon gasps for breath as Bastien leaps on him, slamming his elbow down onto Eamon’s chest. When he coils for another attack, I throw out my arms.

  “Enough!” Eamon and Bastien fly apart, hovering ten feet above the ground. Eamon flails about, struggling against my hold, but Bastien falls slack.

  “I had no idea it was you,” I hear him murmur.

  “I know.” I wave off his apology. “It was dark and you were trying to protect the camp. I don’t blame you.”

  Eamon’s nostrils flare with anger. “Typical! You’re just going to forgive him like that? He’s the one who broke your leg, remember?”

  I sway dangerously at the intense effort it takes to remain standing. I grit my teeth against the rising pain. “Does it look like I’ve forgotten?”

  Eamon pales dramatically as he stares at my twisted leg. Bastien cries out as I collapse. They drop to the ground, released from my anger. “This childish fight for dominance is pathetic. I’m not a plaything you can toss back and forth.” I struggle to pull myself to a sitting position.

  Eamon grimaces as he rises to his feet. When he refuses to look at me, I know the truth. “You started the fight, didn’t you?”

  “Of course. He hurt you!”

  “So you thought if you beat on Bastien for a while that’d make it all better? You know he would never have laid a finger on me if he’d known it was me.”

  “So you’re going to forgive him? Like that?” Eamon snarls, shooting loathing glances at Bastien.

  “What do you want me to do, Eamon? Hate him? Would that make you happy?” I snap, fighting to remain lucid.

  Eamon approaches slowly, dipping low when he reaches my side. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “But it would make it easier for you, wouldn’t it?”

  Eamon reaches for me, pulling me into his arms. “No. This is my fault, not yours or his. You’re right, I lost my cool, but when I saw you lying on the ground I snapped.”

  I can easily imagine what Eamon must have thought when he found me unconscious with Bastien kneeling over me. He’d had no way of knowing what really happened.

  I stare up into his anguished eyes and crack a weak smile. “Only a foo
l would challenge Bastien to a fight. As stupid as it was, I guess in some way I should be flattered.”

  Eamon laughs weakly. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

  I shake my head. “I wouldn’t go that far. We still need to deal with…”

  “Where did Bastien go?” Eamon searches the empty lot.

  “He thought it best to give you two some time alone.” Kyan explains as he steps out from the shadows. He shoots me a knowing smile. “I left, but you should have known I wouldn’t go far.”

  For the second time, Bastien has disappeared. The first time I was distraught to the point of nearly killing my friends. This time I feel numb. “Will he come back?”

  “Yes. He just needs time to deal with his guilt.”

  I slump against Eamon and rest my head against his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart. He presses his lips to the top of my head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers against my hair.

  The part of my heart that belongs to Bastien feels cold and lifeless, but Eamon has laid claim to a part too──an equal half, overflowing with compassion and steady, unconditional love.

  Maybe it is possible to love two men at the same time.

  “Come on, let’s get you into bed. I’m sure you’re ready for Kyan to heal up that leg of yours.”

  “You think?”

  Eamon lifts me gently into his arms and carries me into our deserted cabin. I don’t know where Zahra got off to during the fight, but I suspect Toren and Aminah will return soon once they realize I didn’t tear apart the entire camp. Eamon helps me strip out of my torn clothes, his eyes averted like a gentleman as I slip into a clean top. There’s nothing that can be done about my pants for now and I can’t bother to care.

  I close my eyes as Kyan’s hands close around my shattered leg. His mouth falls slack as a golden light begins to glow around my knee. I can feel the bone fragments drawing back into their original place. I release a sigh of relief as the pain fades and healing warmth floods the rest of my body, mending my bruises and cuts. “Thank you,” I whisper as Kyan stands and heads toward the door.

  “She should sleep well tonight,” he says to Eamon before he leaves. Eamon crosses the room and dips low to tuck me in. He presses his lips to my forehead and turns to leave. “Will you…will you stay with me?”

  Eamon’s eyebrow arches. “You sure?”

  “I just…I want to be held.”

  “Sure.” He disappears behind the screen and hurries through a quick wash. When he reappears, his hair is wet but clean of dirt and blood. He grabs a spare blanket and pillow from his bed and lies down beside me. The bed is small, much too narrow for both of us to share but he doesn’t seem to mind. He wraps his arm around me and rests his head atop mine.

  I begin to feel the pull of exhaustion as I snuggle into his embrace. It has been too long since we slept like this──no pretenses, no expectations, just drawing comfort from each other. I miss this.

  My thoughts flit away as I teeter on the brink of sleep. I resurface only for a second when I hear Eamon speak one last time, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for choosing me.”