She’d told me she had a session with Ronen this morning. My instincts shrieked that there was danger in interfering. But I wouldn’t tell him not to let her train. Only to keep an eye out for her when I couldn’t.
When I pushed through the door into the training hall, it wasn’t only two pairs of eyes that swiveled to watch me walk up the aisle towards where they were gathered on the mats. It was the entire squad.
Shit.
The only saving grace as I approached, and Bren’s expression grew increasingly alarmed, was that these men already knew the truth of what lay between her and me. Even if it was ill-advised to interrupt, there would be no gossip.
But Bren was taken down because she’d been distracted by my entry, and her sparring partner—Voski—had no mercy.
She hit the ground with a grunt, and I saw the flinch a blink before she hit the mat.
A dark curse tore past my lips before I could catch it, and everyone in the echoing hall went still.
“Squadron, Attend!” Ronen barked from the back of the hall. Every man in the place shot to attention—followed a second later by Bren, who’d had to scramble up from the ground.
Shit.Shit shit shit.
“At ease,” I muttered, not letting my eyes linger on her—seeing the foolishness of coming here when there were so many witnesses. But I was committed now. I marched past the lines of men scattered on the mats, straight towards Ronen, tipping my head to Gil, before ordering the others out.
“I need to speak with your Wing Leaders. Take a fifteen minute break, then return.”
The men leaped to obey—including Bren. But I slowed my pace across the room and caught her elbow as she passed me.
She stopped the moment I touched her, but looked up at me with an apprehensive expression, and I hated myself a little more.
“Are you hurt?” I murmured under the rumble of men trotting out the room.
She shook her head and frowned. “No, and even if I was. That’s the job.”
I swallowed and nodded, letting her go, but I didn’t walk on and neither did she. She glanced over her shoulder towards Ronen and Gil.
‘Tell me this isn’t about me.Please?’she sent.
I wanted to grimace, but kept my face straight.‘It’s leadership stuff.’It wasn’t a lie, though it felt like one.‘Don’t worry. Go. Have a rest while you can. I love you. I’ll see you tonight.’
Bren nodded once, sent a rush of love through the bond, then trotted after the others, sending as she left,‘I know I worried you last night, but I really need to do this, just like they do. On my own merits.’
‘I’m just making certainno oneis getting hurt unnecessarily,’I sent, then did wince when the alarm bolted through her and reached me through the bond.
‘Of course I’m getting hurt—we all do! That’s training, Donavyn.Youtaught me that!’
‘I know. I’m not curtailing your training—don’t worry. This is leadership, not memanagingyou. Just manage yourselftoday as much as you can. When you get home tonight, I’ll massage you with the heated oils. They’ll help with the bruisingandwith relaxing.’
I almost tripped on my own feet when she sent me back an image, a memory from last night of my hand sliding up the back of her calf, and the rush of her arousal and love in response.
Fuck fuck fuckfuck!I had to take a tight leash on my mind, or my body would betray me.
I muttered a curse, but enough of the men had left the room, that it wasn’t heard.
Neither was Bren’s quiet chuckle.
As she passed out of sight, I didn’t miss that she moved gingerly on the leg with the bruised hip.
I had to roll my jaw to loosen it from a deathly clench when I reached Ronen and Gil at the back of the hall.
“Sir!” Both Ronen and Gil straightened to attention and saluted again.
I sighed and turned to watch the door swing close behind Bren—the last of the squad—before turning back to them with a frown and folding my arms. “There’s no need for formalities when we’re alone. I’ve told you this.”
