“Before Tritan fell,” the captain said, “it’s my understanding that Mila’s father disobeyed Tritan law to keep her identity a secret. Refusing to send her to the temple for training. After the fall…” Snorting, the captain huffed out a breath. “She spent every waking moment of her time working toward a single goal.”
“To cause as much strife for the empire as she could. Yes,” the Lieutenant General hummed, “we heard tales of the Wood’s Menace, even in the capital.”
The captain nodded. “I’m sure you did. She was quite the accomplished little terrorist, given what she truly was. But Mila’s power, the empath, it’s… unstable by nature. And I inherited that flaw.” He snorted, shoving one hand through thick, dark hair. “A punishment for my greed, I suppose. That after everything I sacrificed in the West…Iwas the danger on the field. Unstable, unusable power more likely to kill my own defective priestess, than killing rebel scum. That’s why she’d been seeing Sasha. To undo decades of bad habits and install some version of discipline sheshouldhave learned in the temple, under Sasha’s tutelage.”
Stormy eyes fixed to the captain’s face, the Lieutenant General was perfectly still when he said, “And was it successful?”
The captain didn’t hesitate. “No. Not remotely. She only saw Sasha twice. There wasn’t enough time.”
For a moment, the Lieutenant General said nothing. Did nothing but watch. Calculating. Eyes ticking back and forth. And then, “That’s… unfortunate.”
“It might’ve been, yes,” the captain drawled, and sat back. Beckoning for me, without bothering to glance my way.
And I went.
With boneless limbs, I melted into his lap. Curled up with my cheek pressed to his heart. Blinking dewy, glassy eyes at the man who burned with dark flames and let me sip at his fumes.
The Lieutenant General’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
“Mila is well in hand, sir, and I’ve got you to thank for that.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ll admit,” the captain said, smug as he turned to stare into my eyes, “it took some doing. She held out far longer than I expected might be possible, but then, she did spend five years alone. Surviving the elements and evading the empire entirely on her own merit.”
“An impressive feat, certainly,” the Lieutenant General said. “But how did I help?”
The captain tapped his fingers on the smooth, wooden tabletop with a dull thunk. Once, twice, before he cupped my cheek. “You were unsettled that I’d worked so hard to contain her after the riot,” the captain said, and his thumb tested my lower lip and found it pliable. “Enough to offer suppressors to ease my burden. And it was then that I realized my mistake. She’s not a liability,” he said, and slipped his thumb between my lips. Letting me taste. “She’s a blank slate. With no Tritan education, and less control over her power, it was nothing to turn that power against her. A simple flip of a coin, and now she obeys my every command.”
Frowning, the Lieutenant General leaned closer. “How can you be certain?”
“Mila,” the captain murmured, and caught me under the chin with one curled knuckle. “Who owns the empath?”
A flood of lust soaked through my blood. And I heard the echo of my voice saying, “You do, Asher,” as if lost in a memory.
The captain’s grin made my own cheeks ache.
“Remarkable. Do you think this methodology might be replicated?” the Lieutenant General asked. “It could be significantly cheaper than using the suppressor cuffs,andhave less impact on the issue of their fertility.”
“I don’t see why not,” the captain hedged, running his fingers through the complicated twists spilling down my back.
“Andyou can use your weapon? Without killing the girl?”
Lifting one shoulder, the captain shrugged. “I’m happy to demonstrate when the cease-fire in honor of Harper’s death has been lifted.”
“Well,” the Lieutenant General hummed, leaning back. Folding his hands, he watched the captain through narrowed eyes. Jaw bunching at the corners, until he said, “This is welcome news, indeed. As you’re probably aware, we’ve had a recent… shall we say…vacancyin the ranks that can’t go on much longer.”
Eyes gleaming, the captain sat forward. “What are you saying, sir?”
“How doesMajorAsher Rawlings sound to you, son?”
“It sounds like a fine bottle of expensive scotch,” Asher replied, and stood. Shaking the Lieutenant General’s hand with enthusiasm. “Thank you, sir.”
“Fantastic. Then it’s settled.” The Lieutenant General clapped his hands, stood, and tucked his paperwork beneath his arm. “We’ll get you and the girl back to the capital to make things official.”
For a moment, I felt ice shiver through him and into me. Something that tasted of alarm. “The capital, sir?”
“Certainly.” Sniffing, the Lieutenant General adjusted the cufflinks at his wrists, one after the other, before he lay a heavy hand on the ghost’s nape. “Fighting rebels is a waste of your talents, son. Can’t teach the young, unbound elites your methods if you’re killed in action by a lucky shot.”
