by C. D. Gorri
“You’re dropping your hip, Siora,” Garridan’s deep voice boomed from several feet away. “It’s a tell, and that’s how Kristoff keeps gaining the advantage.”
“I’m doing nothing of the sort,” she gritted, knocking Kristoff’s weapon away with her arm. “Get that thing away from me. You won this skirmish. I concede.” The words tasted like gravel on her tongue, but she figured they were the fastest way to get everyone’s attention off her and back to something else so she could lick her wounds.
“You’ll need to remedy your weaknesses if you want to become a battalion leader,” Garridan said. “Not to mention, it will come in handy against Bakari’s Deamon soldiers.”
“Thanks, Captian Obvious,” she said, rolling her eyes before giving him a scowl. “I’ve been training in my father’s fields for centuries, waiting for the time you cavemen would let women into the army. I think I’ve got this.”
“Take five,” Latimus commanded to Kristoff and the other nearby soldiers, although his gaze was firm on Siora’s. “We’ll resume after you all grab some water across the field.” The soldiers dispersed while Siora held firm, understanding the commander was displeased with her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her gaze and kicking the ground. “I got frustrated.”
“I understand,” Latimus said, approaching her. Garridan followed close behind, and she felt the annoying sting of tears behind her eyelids. The last thing she wanted was for the handsome soldier she claimed to detest to see her vulnerable.
Straightening her spine, she cleared her throat. “It won’t happen again.”
“You are a natural leader, Siora,” Latimus said, compassion and firmness in his tone. “But you cannot disrespect General Garridan. He is your commanding officer and has earned the respect that entails.”
Feeling like a scolded child, she nodded. “I’m sorry, General Garridan.”
Garridan shot Latimus a look before those deep amber eyes locked onto hers. “You almost sound contrite. Good job, Siora.”
Her chin jutted forward. “Don’t placate me! You’ve observed the soldiers sparring for two hours on this field, and I’m the only one you’ve critiqued!”
“Siora—” Latimus said.
“It’s okay,” Garridan interjected, showing his palm. “She’s right.” Facing her, he tilted his head. “I called you out because I see the most potential in you, Siora. You are already an excellent soldier, but there is another level you can attain. I push you because I believe in you.”
Feeling her eyebrow arch, she placed her hands on her hips. “Or because I’m a woman, and you think I’m not capable.”
A wounded expression crossed his features before it vanished, and guilt welled in her chest. Damn it. Now, she felt like a jerk.
“I know I’ve slipped up since females joined the army, and I’m working on that, Siora. I’ve been a soldier for centuries in a male-dominated army. It would be nice if you could cut me some slack.”
Wanting to be done with the annoying and uncomfortable conversation, she gave a nod. “Fine. I’ll work on not dropping my hip. I have to work ten times as hard to excel, and even with that effort, I make mistakes I’m not even aware of. It’s infuriating. I apologize for taking it out on you.”
His eyes darted over her face. “I could help you…if you’d like. No obligation or pressure. We already work long hours as it is.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
He shrugged. “I can have some sparring sessions with you early in the morning, or after our daily training, where we work on ensuring you don’t drop the hip. I think I can help since I’ve observed you in several sparring sessions.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Latimus said. “I want you to be our first female battalion leader, Siora. You’ve worked hard for it, and you deserve it. Plus, it will make my feminist sister-in-law and her hardheaded sister happy,” he said, referencing Queen Miranda and Governor Evie. “Any opportunity to improve your skills only helps get you to that position faster.”
Swallowing thickly, Siora contemplated. She couldn’t tell them she already got up early to perform extra training each morning. It was something she didn’t want anyone to know, lest they perceive her needing the extra conditioning as a weakness. Still, she saw the merit in Garridan’s offer.
“I can only do evenings,” she said, her voice gruff although she didn’t know why. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact she was about to sign up for private sparring sessions with the hottest Vampyre she’d ever met. Nope. Not at all.
“Evenings are fine,” he said with a nod. “We can use the indoor facilities at Lynia’s training center.”
It rarely rained in the immortal world. Many credited their revered goddess Etherya, who they believed blessed them with warm, sun-kissed days. However, each compound in the immortal world had an indoor training center for the days it did rain, designed by Kenden, the brave and cunning Slayer commander, and built by laborers from Naria, Lynia, and Restia.
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I appreciate the offer. Should we start this evening?”
“I have a commitment this evening, but tomorrow evening works. We can pick up some Slayer blood along the way and ingest it before we begin our training.”
Curiosity threatened to choke her as she wondered what his plans were this evening. Did they involve Celine? She’d heard various rumors Garridan would bond with the aristocrat after the final battle with Bakari. Siora had observed Celine a few times, mostly when she’d been tasked with delivering various firearms and weapons to the soldiers who guarded Valeria’s large castle. Celine frequented the castle since she was good friends with the governor’s daughter, and Siora admitted the woman was exceedingly gorgeous.
She had long, flaxen hair that flitted in the breeze, and she seemed to walk as if she was in slow motion. Her frame was willowy and always covered with the flowing, regal gowns many aristocratic women still insisted on wearing even though their kingdom had become more modernized over the past decades. Glancing down at her own tactical gear—black cargo pants, a T-shirt, and dirt-stained boots—Siora admitted she and Celine were polar opposites.
The woman was a tiny wisp of a thing, whereas Siora was thick and brawny. There wasn’t a feminine curve on her, nor was there an undefined muscle. She was sinewy and strong, and she damn well liked it that way. Garridan might covet a porcelain beauty like Celine, and that was just fine, because it added yet another reason to the ten thousand others tallied in her head as to why she needed to squelch her unwanted attraction to the general.
“Siora?”
“Tomorrow’s fine,” she said, lifting her chin. “Thank you, General Garridan. Hopefully, I can learn quickly, and we’ll only need a few sessions.”
Something unreadable flitted across his face before he spoke. “I’ll do my best. It’s a pretty bad tell.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, she resisted the urge to tell him to stuff it before catching Latimus’s almost inaudible chuckle.
“I think he’s joking with you, Siora.”
“I am,” Garridan said, smiling. By the goddess, the gesture transformed his features into something so sexy her damn knees felt weak. When had she become one of the simpering women she professed to hate? Good. Fucking. Grief.
“Maybe we’ll even become friends as we spar,” he continued, arching a brow.
“I don’t need any more friends,” she said, although the statement rang false. In truth, her friends were comprised of the other soldiers, especially Jack, Latimus’s son, and his friend Brecken, both of whom she held great affection for. Other than that, her best friend in the world was her father. Which was pretty fucking lame. Sighing, she shook her head. “But I’m sure it will make me detest you less. That’s a good start.”
Amusement entered his amber gaze along with a slight twinge of mirth, and she damn near fainted. What were women supposed to do when the man they’d had a multitude of unwanted lust-filled dream
s about looked them straight in the eye like that? Clenching her thighs together, she commanded her body to stay calm. Vampyres had a heightened sense for arousal, and if she grew slick from his searing gaze, he would certainly smell it.
“I look forward to the opportunity to make you like me, if only a little.” He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “On that note, I’m going to grab some water before we resume.” Pivoting, he sauntered toward the soldiers who stood by the far-off replenishment station, his broad shoulders beckoning to her.
“He believes in you, Siora,” Latimus said, palming her shoulder. “Someone of his rank doesn’t have to dedicate one-on-one time to training a cadet.”
“I know, and I’m grateful,” she said, feeling her throat bob. “I’ll make an effort to do better with him. I have a rather large chip on my shoulder, in case you didn’t notice. You all kept us out of the army for a long fucking time, Commander.”
“We did,” he said, grimacing. “Believe me, Miranda and Evie have raked me over the coals extensively for that oversight. Having you and the other fifty women in this first batch of recruits has only made us better. I look forward to the day when our army is comprised equally of men and women.”
“Me too. Thank you for believing in me. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. Now, I know you’re a super soldier compared to the rest of us, but I need some water. Come drink some with me so I don’t feel bad.”
With a grin, she fell into step beside him, pushing away her reservations about training with Garridan. She would plow through them like she always plowed through tough situations, and it would ultimately make her a better soldier. Focusing on the positives, she replenished her electrolytes, ready to embark on the next round of training.
Chapter Four
Garridan found Celine that evening in the fragrant gardens surrounding the massive governor’s castle at Valeria. He’d quickly headed home and showered after finishing with the troops and felt it imperative to speak to her regarding the upcoming fundraiser. She was friends with Governor Camron’s daughter, Hilara, and could often be found at the mansion.
“General Garridan,” Celine said, rising from the stone bench beside a row of green bushes. “How lovely to see you.”
“Hello, Celine,” he said with a courteous nod. “And hello, Hilara. You both look like you’re enjoying the nice weather before the sun sets.”
“We are,” Hilara said, rising, “but it’s almost time for dinner. You’ll call me later, Celine?”
“Yes,” she said as her straight blond hair flitted in the breeze. “Have a good evening.”
“May I escort you home?” Garridan asked, offering his arm as Hilara waved before heading back toward the mansion.
“You may, sir.” Her tone was teasing as she placed her arm in his, and they began to stroll past the soldiers who lined the path, ensuring the safety of the governor’s family. “I assume you want to speak about the fundraiser.”
“Yes,” he said, hoping the conversation didn’t become uncomfortable. He’d always liked Celine, and although it wasn’t a love match, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Our fathers are intent on matchmaking. Although we come from traditional families, I rather thought they would see the benefit of us choosing our own bonded mates.”
Blue eyes sparkled as she grinned. “So you do not desire to sweep me off my feet? My heart is broken.” She placed a hand over her chest.
“I hope you’re joking,” he said as they trailed onto the sidewalk lining the two blocks that led to her family’s large home. “If not, I might be the cad my father accuses me of being.”
Chuckling, she shook her head. “You are wonderful, Garridan, truly. But…”
“Yes?”
“I…well, this is hard to say out loud.” Clearing her throat, she said, “I fear I love another. Or, at least, I think I do.”
Curiosity coursed through him. Celine usually wore a polite expression that showed nothing of her feelings—a manifestation of her strict aristocratic upbringing. He’d never seen one hint of desire or longing on her pretty features.
Unable to squelch the curiosity, he asked, “Anyone I know?”
White fangs squished her lip as she gazed up at him, contemplating. “Hilara is the only other one who knows. I don’t want to tell anyone else, lest it start an untoward rumor. Regardless, he does not return my affection, so it matters naught.”
“I find that hard to believe, Celine,” he murmured. “You are one of the most beautiful women in our kingdom and would make a wonderful bonded mate.”
“To everyone but you,” she chided, amusement in her eyes.
“I would not make you happy. I’m a brute who enjoys war and combat. You’d do better with someone more refined like Sebastian.”
She tensed for a brief moment, and realization slammed through him.
“By the goddess, is it Sebastian you have feelings for?”
She quickly shook her head. “Of course not. He’s a proclaimed bachelor, and I have it on good authority he asked Mila to accompany him to the fundraiser.”
Smiling, Garridan inwardly acknowledged his brother’s cleverness. They’d known Mila since they were children as her family’s estate bordered their own. The three of them were close, which meant Garridan and Sebastian knew secrets Mila kept close to her heart—the most closely guarded one being that she preferred women to men.
In their provincial kingdom, Mila had guarded the secret for centuries, enjoying her independence and remaining solo. Now that Queen Miranda and Governer Evie of Takelia had modernized the kingdom, Garridan hoped Mila would one day feel comfortable enough to find a female mate who would make her happy. In the meantime, she and Sebastian had a nice ruse going. They often accompanied each other to functions, ensuring both sets of parents wouldn’t meddle or try to match them with an unwanted suitor.
Of course, Garridan would never divulge this information to Celine. It was Mila’s to tell, whenever she was ready. But he could at least ease Celine’s doubt as to his brother’s intentions.
“I assure you, Sebastian is not interested in Mila romantically. They are friends and nothing more.”
They halted in front of the black metal gate that arched above the walkway to her home, and she studied him. “How do you know?”
“I just know,” he said, dropping his arm to his side once she slid hers away. “Sebastian has no desire to bond right now, which I understand, but when he does, I hope you will not be shy.”
Wrinkling her nose, she said, “A proper Vampyre female aristocrat is taught to be soft-spoken and demure.”
“Which is rubbish,” he muttered. “Our queen does not believe that, and neither should you.”
She glanced toward the mansion. “I don’t want to embarrass my parents.”
“Perhaps asserting yourself could land you a bonded mate they would be proud of. It might be something to think about.”
“Perhaps.” Lifting to her toes, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you for walking me home. I look forward to accompanying you to the fundraiser.”
“As do I. Thank you for understanding. I didn’t want to make things awkward.”
“Of course not,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m not an idiot. I know you don’t desire me.” Narrowing her eyes, she contemplated. “I think you need someone strong who will challenge you and keep you on your toes. Whoever she is will be very lucky.” Lowering into a slight curtsy, she rose and pushed open the gate. “Good night, General Garridan.”
“Good night, Celine.”
Garridan strode back to the four-wheeler at Valeria, contemplating their conversation. For some reason, he liked the idea of Sebastian courting Celine. His brother would fight it, of course, since he much preferred focusing on his council duties and remaining unattached. But he’d also been drifting like that for years. Hell, they both had in their own ways. Was it time for them to possibly contemplate settling down?
Siora’
s face appeared in his mind, dirt-stricken and fierce, and he sighed as he slid into the vehicle. Frustrated her image appeared every time he envisioned a bonded mate, he pushed the four-wheeler into gear and drove home, determined to let go of something that could never be. After all, one certainly didn’t bond with the person who detested them more than anyone else on the planet. He’d do well to remember that.
Chapter Five
After a grueling day of training, Siora grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulders, aware of the butterflies that flitted inside her belly. She was nervous as hell to train with Garridan but was determined he would never know. Approaching him where he stood by the four-wheeler, she observed him wave goodbye to Cian before he turned and trotted away.
“Ready?” she asked, unable to control the gravelly rasp in her voice.
“Ready,” he said with a nod. “I’ll drive us to town to grab some Slayer blood on the way to the training center.”
“Cool.” She slid into the passenger seat, awareness coursing through her as he folded his large body behind the wheel.
The engine roared to life, and he maneuvered the vehicle to the proper gear. Glancing at his tanned arm, Siora noticed the muscles, strained and sinewy, and licked her suddenly dry lips. Damn it. When did arms become sexy? She really needed to get a grip.
He drove to town, where they purchased two portable containers of Slayer blood from the market before proceeding to the training center. They spoke rarely, about their fellow soldiers mostly, but the energy between them wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, she found their moments of silence felt quite…natural, which she hadn’t expected.
“What’s that smirk for?” he asked, his deep baritone lined with amusement.
