Page 104 of Ashborne: Defiance

Donavyn smiled and nodded. “The Creator made the decision for us—the dragons shouldn’t be separated, and all our relevant assets are there. You two are about to be named squad sisters.”

Bren and Grace leaped at each other again and I dropped my face into my hands, trying to breathe to slow my heart.

She would be everywhere.

Ronen saluted Donavyn, then turned and lifted his chin to the women, smiling at Grace. “Welcome to the squad, Grace. Bren can explain the Acknowledgement. We’ll hold it tomorrow. One of us will find you in the morning.” Then he turned to leave. But as he did so, he caught my elbow and dragged me with him, leaning in and keeping his voice low, and calm, because he was furious, but didn’t want to be heard over Donavyn congratulating Grace and discussing details with Bren a few paces away.

“You’ve just had a very harrowing mission, and no doubt, are lacking in sleep as well as good sense, so I’m going to overlook this one time. But if you ever speak out of turn to superior officers again, so help me, Voski, I will officially discipline you. No matter your role elsewhere,” he said with a glance over his shoulder to make sure we weren’t overheard, “No matter what we are trusted with, we retain rank. And no matter our rank, we humble ourselves when necessary. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. Of course. I know. I just—”

“Good. Then you have one more task before you rest. You’re going to find the wing leaders and make sure every one of them knows that Grace is being placed in our squad, and why. And you’re going to sell it. If even one of them comes to me with concerns that you might be resistant to that plan, you’re not on patrol next week, you’re on cesspit duty.”

Oh, shit. Literally, if I wasn’t careful.

I gritted my teeth to stop the stream of protests that wanted to rise because he was my superior officer everywhere but on mission, and I’d only get myself in trouble.

“Yes, sir,” I conceded through my teeth.

He nodded once, and I thought he’d leave me. But he hesitated, and even though his jaw was tight, the fire went out of his eyes. “I don’t know what happened out there. But if you need to talk—”

“No. I’m just tired. I’ll get it under control.”

“Voski—”

“I heard you. I just need time alone. I haven’t been alone for days. That’s all.”

Ronen knew about my solitude. Knew that Gil and I both often needed time to decompress after we returned from a mission. So, though his expression remained wary, he nodded.

“Take the time. Like Donavyn said, you aren’t rostered on patrol until Firstday. So, rest.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you.” Relief slumped my shoulders, until he clapped me on the arm and gave a grim smile. “Except for tomorrow. Tomorrow you’ve got an Acknowledgement to attend. And since Gil is gone, you’re flying the net with me.”

My jaw dropped. “I… but—”

Ronen winked—prick!—then turned on his heel and with a quick nod to Bren and Donavyn, started down the hallway, leaving me there, gaping at his back like a disappointed child.

Well, fuck!

She’s going to be everywhere.

Despair, panic, irrational rage flooded through me.

I turned abruptly, saluted Donavyn a final time, then marched down the hallway after Ronen, praying I could keep my steps at a normal pace until I was out from under their eyes.

36. Brothers in Harm

~ GRACE ~

Voski strode away, muttering to himself. My stomach flipped.

When we made it out of the building and he was nowhere to be seen, my heart tugged, pulling at me. The sensations were dramatic and swung wildly between nervous and thrilled, dread, and confusion. It distracted me while Bren very kindly led me through the Keep to the astounding academy building, and the quartermaster’s shop, to meet the seamstresses.

I tried to focus. These women were helping me. Both were simple, but capable women. The kind of servants my mother always described as salt-of-the-earth, which was to say that she appreciated their skill, but didn’t believe they should step above their stations. While, I’d always felt more accepted by those kinds of servants than by others of the blood. A fact that made my mother sigh.

When the seamstresses realized I was Flameborne as well, they were thrilled, and promised to make flying leathers adjusted to my measurements as quickly as they could.

“If you can give her shirts, I can let her borrow some of my leathers until you make sets that fit her properly,” Bren said casually, then frowned at me. “They’ll be too long, but nothing like wearing the men’s clothes.”