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I needed this.

Gil raised one brow, wrinkling his forehead on that side, and dropped his chin, his eyes glittering with unspoken promises to make me pay.

Good. I needed him angry and fighting. Not placating me.

We both bounced on the balls of our feet, slowly circling, looking for a weak spot in the other’s stance. He darted forward, but I shuffled back and out of range before he’d even taken a real swing.

We both began to circle again.

“You’ve lost your edge without me here to hone it,” I needled.

Gil raised a skeptical brow. But just as he opened his mouth and I prepared to leap forward in attack, the door into the gym banged, and our squad captain barked.

“Stand down!”

We both dropped our arms to our sides and turned to face him at attention, though I scowled. “I told you to tell no one!” I muttered through my teeth to my best friend who stood at my shoulder.

To my surprise, instead of claiming innocence, Gil gave a small shrug. “I think he can help.”

I turned to look at him, stunned, and even more furious—he’d actually called Ronen here on purpose?—just as Ronen reached the side of the mat.

“Furyknights, attend!”

I snapped back to attention, my eyes fixed on the rafters over the door, but I was seething.

“Gil, go bathe. This isn’t what he needs. I’ll take it from here.”

My jaw dropped and I forgot about etiquette and attention. These men were my closest brothers, and they thought they could just manage me?

“Where the fuck do you get off telling our wing leader on me?” I snapped at Gil, then turned on Ronen. “I’m not a child, you don’t just make decisions about what I need!”

Ronen’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. “Am I your superior, or not?”

I scowled. “Yes, but this isn’t—”

“Then shut up, and defend yourself.”

And then the fucker came at me in a whirlwind of blows and kicks I barely blocked. He peppered me so fast, I was pushed almost to the opposite edge of the mat before he retreated, stalking back to the center and taking position there, pointing to the floor.

“Come on then, Voski. If you want to fight, let’s fight.”

Gil chuckled as I swore. I hadn’t fought Ronen in years. He usually oversaw our combat training, then trained himself with the officers.

Last time we sparred, I was faster than him.

Now?

Anticipation, dread, and little bit of thrill twisted in my chest. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

I smiled. “Permission to kick your ass, sir?”

Ronen raised his brows and tilted his head. “Permission granted, Furyknight. Do your worst.”

Half an hour later, we both sat, backs to the wooden wall, knees bent and elbows resting on them. The only sound in the empty gym was the rasp of our breathing, which still hadn’t slowed.

I winced as sweat dripped into a scrape in front of my ear. One of my eyes was swelling shut, and my shoulder would bug me for days.

Ronen’s lip was split, his left cheekbone was red and puffy, and I would have bet coin he’d be cursing if he had to climb a mounting strap tomorrow. I got two good shots at his ribs.