My face seethes with heat as Arayik glares at me. Elias clears his throat, the sound uncomfortable. Kellen simply observes, his posture betraying neither approval nor disapproval. I file that information away—maybe they’re not as loyal to the Commander as they first appeared.
Any potential division among leadership could be useful.
“Actually, I do, Ashford,” Arayik remarks after a tense moment, not elaborating on his admission. “Let’s hear why you can’t eat with the group.”
I grip the tray tighter, knuckles straining against their stretched skin. “We’re on Syndicate grounds, as I assume you’re aware. I understand the necessity to remove our masks to eat. However, I do not wish to remove mine while on grounds. So I will eat in my room.” I pause, then add, “Is that acceptable to you,sir, or must you continue interrogating me?”
I mentally curse myself. I shouldn’t push patience today, but something about his piss poor attitude drives me crazy. He embodies everything I despise—the cold authority, the never-ending cruelty, the unquestioned enforcement of Syndicate laws and desires.
He doesn’t deserve my kindness, and certainly not my respect, if this is how he treats his supposed equals. I can’t even imagine how brutally he’d treat me if he knew I was a woman.
No, that’s a lie.
Of course I can imagine it—he’d tear my head from my body after raping me without so much as allowing a spoken explanation.
Arayik’s anger manifests physically; veins standing out on his forearms as his fists flex. Elias shifts his weight to one hip, as if preparing to intervene. A strange heat flutters through my abdomen at the intensity of the rage directed toward me, but before I can analyze the sensation, the Commander stands, pushing into my tray until it’s the only thing separating our bodies.
I hadn’t the time to fully appreciate his height yesterday, but now, with him looming over me, I am acutely aware of how easily he could overpower me. It’s terrifying, and I want nothing more than to run from this room and vomit until there’s nothing left of me. But I force my eyes to remain neutral and will my limbs to stiffen as if they are stone.
I will not give him the satisfaction of my fear.
Hands seize mine, squeezing with crushing force. Pain radiates through my arms, but I swallow my verbal reaction, clenching my jaw hard enough to sprout a migraine. Every other woman suffers far worse than this daily. I can endure this small altercation.
“You’re really getting on my fucking nerves, Ashford,” he growls, the sound low but intense. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kick you out right the fuck now and be done with you? I don’t need some insubordinate on my team.”
Dramatic much? What an excessive reaction for such a minor issue. The man clearly needs a therapist.
Despite the pain in my hands and the very real threat of expulsion, I maintain eye contract, refusing to back down. “Because I’ll have no problem taking news of your mediocre leadership skills straight to the Syndicate and letting them know that you single recruits out because of some ridiculoussuperiority complex.” I suck in a shaky breath. “Section twelve, paragraph seven of the Enforcer Code explicitly states that those in leadership positions must remain objective, as every man is to be treated equally unless they have broken established laws.”
His eyes narrow to burning slits, searing my insides with every second he stares, and his grip tightens beyond what should be physically possible. My suspicion crystallizes—is he an Anchor?
“Remove your hands. Now.” My voice drops, turning cold and sharp. Fuck this asshole. From my peripheral, Elias shifts again, more noticeably this time. “Use your power against me again without consent, and you’ll be reported before you can even think about apologizing.” I’m taking a huge risk accusing him like this, but his response tells me exactly what I feared.
“Apologize? To the likes of you?” he hisses, his fingers twitching. “You’re literally nothing here.”
I laugh, a dark sound that startles me. “Then why can’t you seem to keep your attention off me, Commander?”
Elias releases a soft chuckle, causing Arayik’s head to jerk in his Second’s direction, though his eyes never leave mine. Something in his posture changes—his shoulders loosening a fraction, grip finally easing on my hands.
“Get out. Now,” he barks before stepping back.
I don’t wait for him to repeat the command, nearly sprinting from the dining hall as my head pounds frantically, adrenaline making my steps unsteady on the race back to my room.
Why do I do this to myself? I could keep my head down, submit to whatever he demands, and make myself invisible. It would be safer. Smarter.
But I know why. I’ll find myself trapped dead before I willingly submit to a man. Arayik and every other Enforcer in thecafeteria uphold the very laws that kept my mother and me prisoners in our own home. They’re the reason I’ve never felt the sun on my face or grass beneath my feet until now.
They’re monsters. And no matter how badly I’m desperate to remain unnoticed, I cannot let them—any of them—walk all over me. It feels fundamentally wrong, and a betrayal of everything I am.
I can only push back so much without risking exposure, but my disgust and rage need somewhere to go. If verbal sparring with Arayik provides that outlet, then so be it—even if having his full attention is the most appalling thing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CASSIA
The clatter of boots echoes through the corridor as I follow the rest of my group to the training room, a dull ache settling deep in the crevices of my muscles with every step. My body will never be used to this kind of exertion, but I force it to stand straighter regardless.
The doors slide open with a mechanical whoosh, revealing the space I left not long ago. Our three leaders stand in formation at the center, their identical black uniforms and expressionless masks making them seem like extensions of the same entity rather than three separate men.
