3 YEARS EARLIER
“Yes!” I yelled, punching both fists in the air.
Jordan was staring up at me from the ground.
I had just kicked him to the ground.
To. The. Ground.
He had wanted me to train through another grueling sparring session tonight, and I had kicked his ass.
I still stood with my arms raised, bowing my head to the fake crowd that was giving me a standing ovation.
Jordan and I had gotten into a routine where we’d spent half of our days in each other’s company. We did almost everything together, especially now that Kelian was on a mission and Jordan had pushed my training to another level.
Jordan lowered his head to the ground but kept his eyes firmly on me.
Holy shit. I had just beaten Jordan in a one-on-one fight. If you’d told me this day would come, I would have declared you crazy. Yeah, I’d been kicking ass the last few months, but so much ass that I beat Jordan?
Rising from the ground, he kept staring at me before he grinned like a maniac.
I bowed to him. “You’re very welcome.”
“That was good.” He chuckled. “But don’t get used to it.”
A laugh escaped my throat. “Fuck,” I said.
He frowned. “What?”
“I’ll have to find another trainer now,” I sighed like it was the worst of my problems.
Jordan pushed my shoulder. “Don’t let it get to your head, Renée. Next time, you’re mine.”
I chuckled, but the air stuck in my throat as my whole body tensed up. My heart thrashed inside its cage.
His laugh faltered as his eyes searched mine. He noticed what had happened and swallowed visibly. Was he thinking the same thing? Did I have to voice my feelings? Would it ruin our friendship?
This moment was taking too damn long.
Carefully, I cleared my throat. “It meant a lot that you came last week.”
He nodded. “Of course.” It was silent for a moment before Jordan asked, “How old were you when your mother passed away?”
I swallowed.
Passed away.
“Eight.”
Jordan’s gaze slid back to mine. “So young. Was she sick?”
Words failed me. I tried to take a moment to organize the thoughts in my brain.
He lay a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
I waved a hand. “No, I need to talk about it. I haven’t for a long time. It’s always been something I processed by myself—am still processing.”
He stayed silent.
My breath caught. “My mother was sick, in a way.” I looked at him, forced myself to meet his gaze, open myself up. “I wasn’t born in the West of Ardenza, but the East.”
Understanding filled his gaze.
“She got sick and had to be brought to the hospital. It was the protocol when the mutation first surfaced. My father refused to for a long time because he knew we probably wouldn’t see her again. Nobody with the mutation had come back. But eventually, he didn’t have a choice anymore. We never got to know if she passed before the fall or—” I wavered, but he nodded.
“I’ve had nightmares for years; from the moment I understood what was happening in the world. That my mother—” I swallowed, blinking rapidly. “That she is looking for my dad and me,” I added in a hoarse whisper.
Jordan grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
“I’ve never told anyone that—not even my father.” We didn’t really talk about what happened before we came to Barak—not knowing where to start or how to tackle the subject.
“That must have been incredibly hard on you,” he said softly, his voice like a balm to my painfully throbbing heart.
Finally, I could breathe again. Like a heavy burden had been lifted, one that I could now shoulder with someone else.
“Sorry, I’m such a downer.” My smile was forced.
Jordan let go of my hand to take my face between his hands. He brought his head to my level, looking me straight in the eye. “Raven, you never have to apologize for voicing what’s on your heart. Especially to me.”
He only let go when I nodded, brushing his thumb over my cheek.
I looked away. “Maybe we could go out tonight? Go somewhere fun to balance it out?”
He smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I’d love nothing more than that, but I promised my parents I would eat at their place tonight.”
I felt a stone sink but shielded my heart from any rubble—trying to ignore the feeling I experienced at the thought of not seeing him tonight. It frightened me, that level of attachment.
Jordan clenched his jaw and brushed his thumb across his chin. “Soon, okay?”
“Sure.” I smiled through my somber mood because how could I not? “Enjoy your evening. Meet up tomorrow, same time?” The desperation that clawed its way through my body had no place in it.
He grabbed his stuff, a slanted smile on his face. “Looking forward to it, Renée. Won’t want to miss my hour of charity.”
I stuck out my tongue at him, and he winked. I was glad for this moment of normalcy between us. My love for this man increased daily, but I didn’t know how to tell him.
Not yet.
* * *
NOW
The punching bag was unforgiving, and my knuckles were hurting.
Last night, I had left the Sewers with my friends after I told them I had to get rest for my last full night—minus Cardan, of course, who had run off with the red-haired girl.
I’d planned on resting for the entire day. We were leaving at night, and I needed the break. But I was on edge, which had led me to the gym—blowing off some steam.
Damruin sat in the back of my mind like a predator on the prowl, so silent I could almost forget it was there, but it would eventually catch up with me. It was happening. I was going there in a matter of days.
Vivid memories of the streets, the people, and the life I had lived flashed through my thoughts. Those memories would be tainted the moment I stepped foot into the city. Nothing about the once vibrant town would be the same for me.
And I just couldn’t deal.
I had been strolling through the main base earlier that day when I walked straight into a newspaper stand. It was stocked with a newspaper that showed a large photo of the asshole sending me on this mission. He was smiling on it—a fake smile, of course, because Domasc wasn’t capable of a real one.
The photo showed King Sergei and General Zander with Chief General Domasc. It had been a long time since I last saw a picture of the Borzian royal family, and they had gotten older. King Sergei now truly looked like an old man compared to the photos they had shown us at our history lessons, while General Zander had grown into a fully mature woman, face slightly wrinkled—from all the scowling, no doubt. Early on, rumors about her had surfaced in Ardenza, and if any of them were true, she should be put into a straitjacket.
I studied the photo once more before stepping away from the stand. The article used the words Chief General Domasc, making history, and peace in the same phrase. My eyes had nearly rolled out of my head.
I punched the bag even harder as I pictured it was Domasc I beat to a pulp. I had never been a particularly aggressive person, but man, he made my toes curl.
The doors to the gym opened, and the other reason I was in here walked in. I stopped attacking the bag as if it had personally done me harm and let my hand rest on it until it stopped swinging.
Finally, we looked at each other. Stared and stared and stared.
He had a minor cut above his eyebrow, but his eyes told me he hadn’t lost a match yesterday. They had the glint of a winner.
Jordan walked closer and gestured his head to my bruised knuckles. “You weren’t kidding. Hurting yourself gets you off nowadays?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not nearly enough.”
He raised a brow and laughed. Actually laughed. The sound infuriated me to no end.
“Why were you at the Sewers?” I fired back.
Cocking his head, he replied, “Do you want me to be honest?”
That was answer enough.
I looked away from him, inspecting my bruised knuckles. “How many fights did you win?”
“Not nearly enough,” Jordan parroted.
I met his eyes, which had darkened, and I suppressed the urge to cast mine down.
“You promised me one, you know,” he drawled.
I arched a brow. “That was all you, if I remember correctly.”
He brushed it off. “I see you’re still too afraid to take me on.” He stepped closer, and the room seemed to shrink. Other sounds and sensations were cut off.
“You know I can’t resist it when you’re baiting me.”
“You resisted just fine last night.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. Why was he even here? Couldn’t he just leave me alone?
“So?” he insisted.
“Fine,” I snapped, crossing my arms and keeping my voice steady through sheer will. “But under one condition.”
Jordan inclined his head, eyes glinting.
“I need a couple of hours in Damruin.”
Stars swirled in those blue eyes. “You need a couple of hours in Damruin?”
I nodded. “If I win, I’ll get them.”
He was silent for a moment.
“It’s non-negotiable,” I added.
“Tell me why.”
“I need to search the hospital for my mother’s files and get answers. I don’t mind going alone, but I have to try.” I didn’t see the point of lying.
Jordan looked at me for a long moment. “I mind.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes while he crossed his arms.
I knew it was a risky move, throwing this in the mix hours before we went.
Finally, he nodded. “Deal.”
“I won’t be too hard on you.” I rolled my shoulders back and threw him one of the blunt training knives lined up along the center of the room. “The mission needs at least one competent general.”
Jordan barked a laugh. “And you’re not?”
“Cute.” I rolled my eyes.
Stepping onto the mat, he beckoned me closer. “Show me your worst, Raven.”
I twirled the knife in my hand as we approached each other—both on high alert, willing the other to attack first. But I wouldn’t. Only if—
Jordan veered forward, and I stepped sideways to block the brunt of his attack. The metal still slapped against my thigh, and I groaned. He just stepped back, lips curved. I pushed forward, knife swinging towards his head, legs, shoulders, anywhere—but he blocked attack after attack until he stepped off the mat and lost his footing.
I didn’t stop attacking him. I hooked my foot around one of his ankles, forcing power into the move as he fell to the ground. Surprise lit his face.
We hadn’t set any rules, so he couldn’t say anything about it.
I used his momentary distraction and dropped to my knees to wrap my legs around his torso as he rolled away, pinning one of his arms to the ground as I pushed the knife to his throat. But Jordan shoved a hand between the two just in time. He moved his other arm to my neck, which he missed by a hair as I moved away from him. It made it possible for him to sit up, though, and he threw his weight into dragging me underneath him.
Jordan moved his knife to my abdomen, but I raised a knee to block the attack, grunting as metal collided with bone. I punched him in the chest, and Jordan gasped for air. He had to recover by taking a deep breath. I used that time to plant my foot against his torso and kicked him away from me.
Rolling to the side, I pushed myself upright. Before I could stand, though, he had already grabbed my ankle and pulled me back. I grunted as I freed my ankle and tried to kick him between the legs, but Jordan dodged the attack by turning away. Taking anything over a kick to the balls, I guess.
The moment he turned, I wrapped my arms around his neck and yanked him back. Instead of stumbling, Jordan grabbed my arms and shoved both of us to the ground, crushing me beneath his weight. He rolled over and raised his knife at the same time I did.
We grabbed each other’s arms before our weapons made impact—halting the fight.
I stiffened as we were trapped in this cage of our making. His chest raced, and I noticed my own chest doing the same. I looked at him. His eyes searched mine and moved to my lips.
Abruptly, I let go of my knife and stared at him—watched his thoughts pace as fast as mine. Jordan, too, dropped his knife, but had yet to let go of my arm. Instead, his fingers pressed into my skin insistingly.
I tried to pry my arm from his grip to make him move, to get off me, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Jordan,” I whispered, emotions conflicted.
His eyes roamed my face—trailed the seam of my lips. “Hm?”
“Let go.”
Gazing at the hand still holding mine, he opened it, granting me room to climb off the ground. Time seemed to stretch while he stayed put and stared at the ceiling. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and shoved it through his hair.
“Tie?” he rasped, pushing himself off the ground.
I smiled tentatively—glad he said nothing else. “Tie,” I agreed.
“I’ll adjust the route to go past the hospital, where you’ll have ten minutes.”
I reined in a surprised breath.
“An hour,” I countered boldly.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Forty-five.”
“You won’t get more than thirty from me, Raven, and you’re already pushing it.”
“Deal,” I blurted.
He shook my outstretched hand with a resigned smile. “I hope Nikolai gets us some info about this mission soon. I don’t have a good feeling about it.”
My face fell as I leaned against the weapon rack and clenched a water bottle between my hands. “Me neither. Though, if he gets caught snooping around, Domasc will try to strip him of his rank—me, too.”
“And if Domasc finds out in time, he could,” Jordan agreed, but a smile played around his lips. A genuine smile this time.
“What?”
He raised his brows at me, his smile widening.
I gasped. “Not if Nikolai becomes chief general at the next election.”
“Bingo.”
“Is he planning to, then?” I hadn’t heard anything about it from Hunt or Nik. “Does he even want to?”
“We’re still working on that, but I can’t see how he has a choice. I think Nikolai realized it himself during 3B.” Jordan swallowed.
I nodded as I bit my lip.
An awkward silence hung between us. It made me long for the simpler days before this whole shitshow.
“Well,” he said on a lighter note. “How are things between you and Rudolfs?”
Raising my eyebrows at his tone, I said, “Kelian?”
Jordan raised his brows.
“What do you mean?” I asked carefully.
His body screamed nonchalance as he shrugged, but I saw right through his act. “Are you dating?”
My lips parted. I really couldn’t believe this guy. Shaking my head, I pushed myself off the rack and walked over to my bag.
“What?” Jordan asked, frowning.
I gave him a look before putting a towel around my neck. “And what if we were dating, Jordan? Would it change anything?”
Jordan clenched his jaw. “You know it does.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked him. “In what way? That you’d actually do something about it this time?”
Frustrated, he pushed himself forward. “Damnit, Raven. You know it’s not that simple.”
He walked my way, but I raised a hand. “Don’t bother. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, I turned around and left the training hall.