3 YEARS EARLIER
I’d let Jordan know I wouldn’t be joining him for dinner and canceled our training for the night.
My mom always used to listen to classical music during my childhood. She would play the strings in the air, hum the tunes while gardening, or sway to the notes while making dinner. The music made me feel closer to her, and tonight, her favorite orchestra played at the Barak opera.
I was wearing a black satin dress that fell smoothly over my curves, the fabric at the neckline plunging, and matched them with high-heeled black sandals. I had straightened my brown curls, which made my hair look a couple of inches longer than usual, and several golden rings adorned my ears.
The large entrance hall was packed with people by the time I arrived. The building was breathtaking. My mother would have loved it. Extracting the entrance ticket from my clutch, I walked toward the cloakroom to store my coat.
Looking up at the mirrored ceiling, I smiled. A request for people to enter the theater sounded through the speakers, and I joined the long queue, which shuffled forward at a steady pace.
“Raven!” I heard from behind, and I turned around, looking through the many people facing me.
A familiar voice sounded. “Pardon. Excuse me.” I noticed people parting for someone, a hand seeping through the crowd. I caught a glimpse of blonde hair while the voice bearer made his way through the masses until he stood right in front of me.
My lips parted, a hesitant smile playing around my lips.
“Raven,” Jordan said. His eyes met mine. I had never seen the look that crossed his face before—like it was the first time he saw me. His chest rose, but it was the only sign of turmoil. The rest of him, well…
He wore a black suit and a white blouse underneath, the top buttons undone. His hair was carefully but loosely styled—like he had been in a rush, in a good way. And—hold on.
“Jordan? What are you doing here?” I stared at him.
He reached his hand out to me as he said, “Come. I’ll explain.”
I took his hand, which he pulled to his side as he excused himself to the people behind us, and let him guide me through the entrance hall, away from the theater. When we arrived in a secluded area, he turned around.
“After you sent those messages with no explanation whatsoever, I called Hunter to ask if she knew what was going on. Keep in mind that I was clueless—I’m not a stalker, I promise. She told me you went to this opera because of your mom and warned me you wanted to go alone. But…” he said, catching his breath, “my father has a balcony at the theater, and I thought you might like to see the opera from there.”
I was speechless, in shock. “You’ve come all this way to offer me a seat on your family’s balcony?” Why would he do that for me? We had rarely met each other outside an army setting.
He nodded reverently. “Yes. You can go alone, or I can come with you. I mean—”
“Gods, Jordan. Are you serious?”
Jordan looked confused. I raised my brows as a laugh bubbled up.
“Yes,” he breathed and made a fist. “Listen, Raven. I didn’t think this through.”
I burst out laughing. “Jordan, you idiot! Of course, you can be there.”
Jordan’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I took his arm. “Where’s the balcony?”
He turned around and walked us through the small hallway to a set of stairs where a guard was stationed.
“Mister Locke. Miss.” He nodded to both of us, and Jordan didn’t have to show anything before the guard let us through.
The balcony was beautiful. It had two sets of chairs, all facing the podium. The velvet curtains and chairs glinted slightly in the theater’s warm light.
“I’m impressed, Major General,” I whispered to him, grinning. Part of me still couldn’t even believe he was here.
“All credits go to my father,” Jordan said, a dimple appearing. “But I use it now and then.”
That made me pause. “You go to the opera?” No doubt it impressed the women he dated. Did he even date? I hadn’t seen him with anyone since we started hanging out.
He shrugged, but looked directly at me. “When I’m in the mood. Why not? It’s a welcome contrast from the work we do.”
Surprised and maybe a little shy, I smiled at him in the dimming light. “I guess it is.”
* * *
Half an hour into the concert, tears were streaming down my cheeks. Jordan grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently. I looked at him, but he just angled his head as he sat closer and entwined our hands, weaving his fingers through mine.
He held them there throughout the entire show.
My heart beat in a maddening rhythm while I studied him underneath my lashes and caught glances of him whenever he wasn’t looking. His cheekbones and jaw matched the perfect cut of his nose and lips. Jordan’s features formed sharp contrasts in the theater’s light. A lock of his blonde hair had sprung free like he had run a hand through it without thinking.
I was immensely grateful he was here—grateful he’d gone out of his way to make this evening more special to me.
A tight band wrapped around my chest. I tried to deepen my breaths, but they kept coming in short bursts.
If I hadn’t already been in love with him, this would have been the moment I tipped over that edge and started falling. So far and long that even as I went to bed that night, my body still felt weightless.
* * *
NOW
Kelian and Hunter were standing in front of my door with two bottles of alcohol, and Kelian pushed one of them into my hands. I had already taken a sip before I locked my door.
For my last ‘free’ night before I returned to my personal hell, the emotional rollercoaster that was Damruin and Jordan, we hit the Sewers. Tania and I had been trying to get the rest down there because that part of town was way too much fun to overlook, and now we finally went.
Cardan would love it. Hunter would, too. But Kelian… he always discouraged any possible and unnecessary discoloration of my skin.
We walked into a vacated-looking street, the wet stone road reflecting the city lights. “It’s freaking deserted here,” Kelian muttered as he draped an arm over my shoulders.
Hunter exclaimed, “What the fuck?” As Tania opened the metal doors in the ground that led to the Sewers. It was just a name. We didn’t fight in the literal sewers. Thank the gods.
Cardan grimaced. “If you bullshitted about this party…”
“It’s giving underground sacrificial offering party vibes,” Hunter groaned.
“Relax your tits, both of you,” Tania snapped as she unlocked the doors and gestured inside. “You especially,” she said to Cardan, who, in turn, pointed at himself in question, “are going to love this.”
Walking down the crappy metal stairs, loud music greeted us in the distance. Only people who were invited knew where to go. These fights weren’t against the law, but most of the people coming here were, so it remained low key.
Tania followed and closed the doors after us with a bang.
I smirked at Cardan. “Now I am curious, Car… What exactly would you have done to poor Tania?”
“Poor?” Hunter snorted, looking at Tania, who just rolled her eyes at no one in particular.
I was grinning as we continued through the hallway—the music drifting closer with every step. Bringing the rest of the group was so much more fun.
Cardan slowly shook his head, like his brain was doused in liquid. Then took another sip from the bottle in his hands. Going by his dilated pupils, his blood was already swimming in alcohol.
Kelian looked at what I was doing with quiet contemplation. “What are we going to do? Join a cult?”
Batting my lashes, I smiled up at him. “Funny.”
“What the hell are we doing?” Kelian asked again as the music drifted closer. His eyes shot to Tania, who looked at him like she had ascended from heaven.
I arched a brow. “Pretty vague question, Kel.”
The fumes of stale air mixed with the stank of sweating bodies assaulted my nose. Sounds of people cheering battered my ears. But the only thing coursing through my body was a buzz of excitement. I started wrapping my knuckles, hands, and wrists for a fight.
Kelian pulled a hand through his red hair, scratching his stubbles, and sighed dramatically.
I shook with laughter, and pushed open the bar’s doors.
Whatever they said next was drowned out by a loud bass and cheering. Inside, I got caught up in the sweep of people and sweat. We worked our way through the crowd until we stood on the outskirts of the current ring fight. The competitors were both regulars I had fought against.
“Don’t tell me you’re next,” Kelian muttered behind me.
I kept looking at the fight before us, but a shit-eating grin took over my face. “Will you cheer for me?” I asked him, as I finally turned to face him.
Kelian’s mouth set, but his eyes crinkled in the corners. He shook his head in a way that meant he would. His finger moved to the side of my head in a playful gesture.
I looked for Cardan, who was already talking to a girl. The guy was unbelievable. He had been inside for less than twenty seconds and had already found someone to flirt with. I guess that explained how he brought someone else home on a weekly basis.
I hadn’t heard of Kelian bringing anyone home, ever. He never talked about it, either. I looked at my best friend. He was handsome; he had great hair, teeth, dark lashes… Not to mention a winning personality.
I noticed a girl looking at him from across the room, and I nudged his shoulder, gesturing her way. “Your type?”
He looked at the girl and back at me, searching my face. “She might,” he said eventually.
“Find out,” I encouraged him. “But be back in time for the fight!”
He took a long swig of his bottle and then nodded as he strode off.
The most beautiful thing about Kelian was his character. He would go to hell for the people he loved. He would go to hell for me. He made me feel special and always listened to what I had to say, no matter how boring it was. He was the kind of friend that would bring up something tiny you mentioned months ago because he cared. Because he was genuinely interested in others.
“So,” I bowed closer to Hunter. “You think Nikolai knows this place?”
Hunter laughed as she kept looking at the crowd in front of us. The dirty fighting ground was getting dirtier by the second. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. But I do know he won’t like me being here one bit.”
I laughed. “No, I don’t think he would.”
As the fight before us wrapped up, and the winner was riling up the crowd, Tania stepped close to me, speaking in my ear. “I bet you my throwing stars, that you won’t last three matches in a row.”
Damn. I’ve thought about those throwing stars of hers more than I liked to admit. My fingers itched when I thought about using them. But three matches in a row… That was a lot.
Fuck it. “You’re on.”
I needed to blow off some steam, anyway.
Tania grinned.
I stepped inside the ring, and all eyes fell on me, including the pair of the previous match winner. As our eyes locked, I winked at her and saw her face grow determined with pugnacity.
The match was over in two minutes.
Walking up to our little group, Hunter offered me a sip of her ice-cold water, the glass slippery with vapor. “Well done,” she commended.
I made a little bow, and Kelian tugged one of my braids, pulling me closer. “You’re fucking crazy,” he exclaimed.
“Thanks!” I yelled back and stuck out my tongue. “She wasn’t your type?”
Kelian shook his head.
“Where’s Cardan?”
He pointed to one of the back corners, where a dark head was being mussed by hands that belonged to a girl with fiery red hair. They were eating each other’s faces.
“Next match!” the announcer called, and I dashed back into the ring.
Moments blurred together, and the second match wore me out more than I wanted to admit. I wouldn’t usually fight so much back-to-back, but I couldn’t back down now. I desperately wanted those throwing stars.
My head rang with the roaring of the crowd as I won again.
Cardan approached, love bites bruising his neck as he took me in. He gave me an approving look. “Looking good, Raven.”
I rolled my eyes, though I had to admit that I did look good. The black crop top, black jeans, and black boots flattered me. My curls were wild, with two braids keeping the hair out of my eyes—my eyeliner pitch-black and lips a bold red. I fit right in with the crowd.
His mouth dropped open as he looked at Kelian. “I was being nice, wasn’t I?” but the latter squeezed my neck playfully.
“Next!” the announcer called again. I swallowed a groan—I couldn’t let Tania see this was getting to me. I needed to get a fucking break and regretted this stupid bet.
Cardan’s interest was piqued as he looked up and brushed his curls away from his face. “I’ll go next.”
Kelian immediately put a hand on his chest to stop him. “Dude, no.”
“Why not?”
“You’re wasted.”
“Besides,” Tania stepped in as Hunter rubbed Cardan’s shoulder to console him and his dramatic pout. “I wouldn’t want Raven’s third fight to be too easy. We’ve got a bet going.”
Cardan’s mouth dropped open as he started sputtering in indignation. “What—” But the rest of his words were cut off by the crowd as I stepped back in. His grumpy face lit up as the redhead from before stepped into his periphery, beckoning him closer with a sultry look.
I mouthed to Tania that she was going to lose the bet.
“You see this, folks? She wants to go another round!” the caller said.
The noise grew louder. At first, I thought it was because people appreciated my tenacity. And maybe some did. But then Hunter’s smirk fell from her face, and she cursed, staring behind me. Kelian’s eyes widened, then turned to me, and I knew something was off.
I turned around, and the laughter died on my lips as I saw who the next contender was. There wasn’t yet enough alcohol in my blood to dampen my heart’s reaction.
“It looks like we have a new contender joining the fight,” the announcer said while my blood turned to ice.
Jordan.
Jordan found his way through the crowd and into the circle—shaking his head while he did it. Though he was smiling a wolf’s smile, eyes trailing over me and my every move.
No. I barely shook my head.
No fucking way.
The crowd went wild as he circled me, but his voice pierced through the chaos. “I heard generals are forbidden to take part in these fights.”
Swallowing past a big lump, I needed some time before I could respond. “I heard that too.”
Jordan’s eyes swirled with shadows. He wore casual clothing like the rest of us. Black or dark blue—who knew—pants, with a white shirt. Both fit him like they were made for him, which was probably the case.
“How about that fight you promised me?” he asked, a dimple on his cheek and a challenge lighting up his eyes.
In silence, I said goodbye to the throwing stars—but most of all, my frail ego.
“No.” I walked back into the crowd, under loud protest, because that was against the rules. Once you stepped into the circle, you stayed inside until the match was done.
There would not be a match.
Kelian lay a hand on my shoulder and asked me something I couldn’t catch. I was frozen to the spot, ears buzzing while I held Jordan’s smirking gaze. People tried to push me back in, but I shrugged off their advances until I took hold of someone’s arm and turned on my heel to punch the person in the face—the attack blocked by Kelian. I growled low in my throat at the surrounding people, and they shrank back.
Jordan had taken off his shirt, his lean muscles bulging in his torso—even more pronounced since the last time I saw him bare-chested.
“Anyone else?” he bellowed.
I backed away into the crowd until my senses were free of him, working my way to one of the far walls, refusing to turn around and look at him.
“Why wouldn’t you fight him?” Kelian asked as he and Hunter caught up with me.
I swallowed as I watched a new contender walk into the ring from the corner of my eyes. “I’ve already been fighting him for too long.”
My best friends shared a look and followed me as I dragged myself up the stairs just as the crowd roared.
I didn’t look back.