“O-Oren.” Placing my other hand on the ground, I tried to push myself up, but failed.
His mask crumbled, replaced by pure terror that I neverwantedto see again, but I knew would continue as long as his father remained untouchable.
“Thorne… o-oh… I didn’t, I didn’t mean—” He dropped to his knees, his hands not sure where to go on my body as he stared, frozen.
“S-Stop… It’s not your fault,” I said as I grabbed his wrist. “We need to go. We’ve wasted enough time, and I can guarantee your father has grown impatient…”
His lip trembled, but he bit it, the sharpness returning to his features. “O-Okay.” He stood, extending a hand to my frame. “Please take it.”
Without a moment of hesitation, I did, allowing him to help me off the ground. Groaning in pain, I came to stand, gesturing toward the heap of clothing beside the bed. “M-My uniform…”
Oren snapped into action, grabbing my pants first. With a tenderness I’d never experienced, he shuffled them onto my legs, careful to avoid any bruises. His fingers worked effortlessly to clasp the button, and it would’ve been fine if he hadn’t had that cheeky grin on his face.
One minute he was standing, the next, he’d fallen to his knees, grabbing the zipper between his teeth. He yanked upward, finishing off the first article of clothing.
“Fucking hell,” I groaned, watching him intently. “Y-You can’t do that to me. Don’t you know I love pain and pleasure?”
“That was me saying sorry,” he mused, climbing to his feet once more, my shirt draped over his hands. The tremble to his timbre was gone, replaced by something darker,sultry. “You have to bend a bit so I can put it over your head.”
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head, but internally I prayed he wouldn’t notice the blood seeping through my bandage. “I expect a far more extensive apology later.” Bending forward, I swallowed the cry that lingered on the tip of my tongue.
He placed it over my head, shifting it to rest on my shoulders. After I shuffled my arms through the holes, he adjusted it, carefully draping it down my back and sides.
I reached forward, quick to tuck it into my pants, using the opposite side of the material to wipe off my blood-coated hand. Offering him a weak smile, I dipped my chin. “Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”
He smiled, a little less bright than this morning. “Yeah.”
Pushing myself from the bed, I ground my molars together to keep myself from groaning. How I was going to make it through training while my side screamed for medical attention, I had no idea.
My gaze met Oren’s one final time, and I dipped my chin with the respect he once offered me. “After you,Commander.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
OREN
The walk to the training area was anything but ideal, Thorne stumbling to keep a leisurely pace. How was he going to survive a training where I had to impress my father to maintain appearances?
He was going to expect ruthlessness from me, but could I deliver the man he’dalmostmolded me into? How could I focus when the person I adored was hobbling because of my mistakes?
Stopping once more, I glanced back at Thorne, his hand pressed against the wall to keep his balance. While I knew I’d bruised him, he shouldn’t be struggling to stand. Was this a ploy in case someone walked by?
By the lull in his gait, the grimace on his face, and the sweat beading on his temple, I knew it wasn’t an act.Somethingwas wrong.
I didn’t have time to decipher it as I lifted my chin, my father’s voice already booming from the closed door. He waspissed, and if this was going to work, I needed it to be plausible. I didn’t want what I’d done to Thorne to be nullified by my inability to wear the mask I needed to. Thorne had worn this for so long, and it was my turn. Hedeservedreprieve, and I would shoulder this burden until we figured out a plan on how to escape my father’s clutches.
I would wear this mask in the presence of my father and do unspeakable things if it meant Thorne never had to stain his hands with crimson again. I finally had something,someoneI wanted to protect—someone who loved me despite my flaws.
I wouldneverallow him to reexperience the trauma he’d endured alone for so long.
Wrapping my hand around the door, I flung it open. I grabbed a fistful of Thorne’s shirt, tossing him into the training room.
Liam and Matthew turned to the sound, their eyes widening as they landed on their former commander, covered in green and gray splotches, the bruises I’d inflicted today and yesterday melding together. They had no idea we’d reconciled, and this would break another piece of my heart, but to keep them safe I’d do it. Tofinallycreate a wedge in my father’s control, I would maintain appearances.
I slammed the door shut, locking eyes with the man I wanted to murder. No. The man Iwasgoing to kill. I hoped the rage I exuded toward him was mistaken for fury toward Thorne.
“He was late, General, and when told to collect himself, he refused.”
“Bullshit,” Matthew spat before anyone else could open their mouth. “Thorne would never, hasneverbeen late for anything throughout the decade he’s served.”
