Stepping closer, I closed the gap until only inches separated us, the tension humming between our bodies. I tilted my chin up, locking my gaze with his.Be what he won’t,Doryan’s words echoed in my mind, a memory from one of his first lessons. Throughout my training in the Hollow, I’d always been the smallest—more petite than even the other women. From day one, Doryan drilled those four words into my head like a mantra.
But before that, he had knocked me flat on my ass in the dirt. No apologies. No helping hand. Every time I scrambled to my feet, he used his size to shove me back down, circling like a predator. “Odds are,” he had said, his voice calm but cutting, “any soldier you face will be bigger, stronger, and probably more powerful than you.”
I had barely risen before his hand shot out, toppling me again. “Your opponent will see you as an easy target,” he continued, pacing around me like he had all the time in the world. “They’ll rely on their techniques, rigid and predictable. They won’t think stepping outside the mold is necessary. That’s where you—” Then, he knocked me down again. Frustrated, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at him, sulking like a child mid-tantrum as he loomed over me. That was when my nickname came to life. “Yes, you—Fitz,” Doryan had taunted. “The fight within you must always play the unnecessary move. To survive—to win—you must be what they won’t expect. Be what he won’t.”
I glared up into Rhodes’s eyes. He encompassed authority—a stoic, indestructible, all-tough soldier. But even the unbreakable have their cracks. I knew his weakness.
I looked exactly like his weakness.
Softening my features, I let a faint grin tug at my lips. Tilting my head down just slightly, I kept my gaze locked on his. The subtle dip of his chin and the deep breath he took told me I’d accomplished my goal. But the greediness in me wanted to take it a step further once I saw my reflection—Scarlet’s reflection—in his eyes. So I stepped even closer and laid my hand on his chest. His heart beat fiercely as he took in the sight of me, of her.Be what he won’t.What would Rhodesnotdo?
He would spar with Scarlet. He would definitely test her, pushing her to her limits.
But he would never push his own limits in order to beat her. He would be too afraid of hurting her. And pushing himself would be what he’d have to do in order to beat me.
“Spar with me,” I said, my voice lower now, deliberate. “You win, I’ll help her. I win, you’ll owe me a favor.” I adjusted my tone, mimicking Scarlet’s softness just enough to twist the knife a little deeper.
His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head, a scoff of disbelief escaping him. “No.”
Ding, ding. That was an easy win.
I took a slow step back, keeping my gaze locked on his, and shrugged. “That’s my only offer. The next one won’t be so generous.”
Turning toward the weapon racks, I grabbed a sword and spun it effortlessly in my grasp. “Now, fuck off. We were in the middle of something.”
Without a word of warning, I struck Doryan. But, being the soldier he was, he blocked my move with precision, the clash of metal ringing sharp in the air.
Chapter 4
The thunderous sound of my father’s right-hand man slamming his fists against the table jolted me out of my daydream. Barrett’s voice rose, sharp and unwavering, as he argued with the other lieutenants. Hours had passed, yet no decision had been made. I stayed leaning against the wall of the war room, head tilted back, eyes closed, pretending I wasn’t here and minding my own damn business.
“Sending them back to that school would be purgatory!” Barrett shouted, his frustration palpable. “You think Kalluri will just wave off an absence note? From our General? We’re not throwing those kids back into this. They’ve suffered enough already!”
“They aren’t kids anymore, Colonel! This is the only way, and you know the General will agree,” Lieutenant Perci countered.
With one smooth, furious motion, Barrett swept the goblets of ale off the table. The crash of metal and liquid spilling onto the stone floor punctuated his anger.
“She’s right,” I muttered, my eyes still closed.
Barrett let out a raspy sigh, collecting himself. “Speak, Fallon.”
Pushing off the wall, I approached the old oak table. It dominated the room, a silent sentinel to every decision, every argument, every failure. Time had worn its edges smooth, but the grain still bore splinters, a testament to its resilience. Of all the things in this war room, it was the only piece that had outlasted us all.
This table had weathered centuries of battles and survived wars that claimed both men and women.If only it could speak,I thought.If it could reveal our history, whisper the answers we so desperately seek.
As a child, it had been my refuge. I used to crawl under its massive frame, tracing every divot and curve. My initials are carved there still, etched on a day when I felt truly alone.
Meetings happened above me countless times. The table had been my wooden shield, a place where I could eavesdrop in safety. Through those secret conversations, I pieced together fragments of my mother’s life—truths no one else was willing to tell me outright.
I leaned over the table, pressing my knuckles into its worn surface. “We all know our General is tired of waiting. The breach of our borders was too close for comfort. Tyria is advancing, and time isn’t on our side. The General only cares about reclaiming what is rightfully ours. Whether that means showing up at Mageia’s doorstep with weapons drawn or—”
“What exactly is Hollow Summit’s at Mageia?” a voice cut through, calm but sharp.
Rhodes stepped forward from the shadowed corner, his presence imposing as he crossed the room.
“That is for us to know and for the Glade not to snatch out of our hands.” I spat on his hands that rested on the table.
Rhodes didn’t flinch. Instead, he flicked my spit right back at me. I cursed.
