CHAPTER 33

Artemis

‘A nd they really believed that?’ Reece asked Cadmus who was telling us what I assumed was meant to be an amusing tale. It was about a time he and his friends from back home pretended to be a group of celebrities to get into a VIP section at an exclusive club.

‘Yup! And we didn’t have to pay for a thing. They were fawning all over us like we would shut the whole place down forever if they didn’t.’

Henrik piped in. ‘How didn’t they realise?’

Cadmus just shrugged. ‘I don’t think they cared one way or another, but when we started throwing around credits like it was nothing they started to take us more seriously. We may not have been celebrities, but we were rich.’

Dorian scoffed. ‘Fucking rich kids. You do whatever you want and get away with it, but if someone in poverty so much as steals a crumb from a bakery they’re locked up for life.’

The room’s mirth died down at his comment, and Cadmus looked uncomfortable as if he didn’t know how to respond to his privilege being thrown in his face. ‘Ah, I forgot you’re here on scholarship.’ He said the word as if it were a sin to speak it out loud, and not for the first time his actions highlighted how out of touch with reality this man was. He truly had never had to worry about a single thing in his entire life, and it showed.

‘Indeed. I earned my spot with hard work and high scores. Not all of us have a rich Mummy and Daddy to give us everything, you know.’

What had originally been intended as a light-hearted tale had quickly morphed into an uncomfortable silence as everyone processed what Dorian had just admitted. I didn’t see what was wrong with working hard for what you achieved or getting into an elite academy on scholarship because you couldn’t afford to pay your way yourself. I was utilising that benefit myself.

‘I’m here on scholarship, too,’ I spoke up to defend us scholarship kids. I might not have come from the same background as Dorian, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t working damn hard to achieve my goals. They were just completely different goals than everyone thought.

‘You are?’ he asked, and his surprise made me frown.

‘Of course. I thought everyone already knew.’

‘Um, it’s not really something people talk about openly here,’ Henrik explained to me.

‘Why not?’

He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the new direction of the conversation. ‘Well, most of the cadets at Nova are from wealthier families.’

‘I know,’ I said, even more confused. I had obviously missed something the others believed common knowledge.

‘So most people here would consider scholarships a… sort of charity function of the school,’ he continued, his face twisting with disgust at his own words. I understood why. Scholarships as charity was a despicable perspective. Who could look at someone who had busted their ass working hard to receive the best scores possible, only to tell them they weren’t good enough because they didn’t have any money?

I must have spoken those thoughts out loud, because everyone suddenly seemed very interested in their shoes.

‘Right?’ said Dorian, who was the only one that seemed at all pleased with my commentary. ‘I’ve worked harder than all of the so-call elite , and I’m still considered beneath them? As if,’ he scoffed.

‘Anyway..’ Cadmus drew out the word. He was apparently done with the conversation which seemed to piss off Dorian even more, who stood up and left in a huff.

‘I keep putting my foot in my mouth, huh?’ said Cadmus, and I saw a rare show of vulnerability for him as he seemed genuinely apologetic for his words.

‘You haven’t had much experience taking care of yourself without the aid of others, have you?’ I asked. I hadn’t meant for it to be an insult, merely an observation, but the way he flinched made me think that I was now the one sticking my foot in my mouth.

‘I joined the military to get that experience,’ he admitted in a small yet defensive voice. ‘I’m not trying to offend anyone. And I’m not sorry for how I grew up. I’ve always had money and that’s always opened doors for me that aren’t available for others. I might not understand from personal experience, but at least I’m trying to humble myself.’

I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. ‘I didn’t mean it in a bad way,’ I informed him. ‘I just meant that it can be triggering to listen to those kinds of stories when you’ve never had those privileges for yourself. The way I grew up… I wouldn’t wish that on anyone , but it’s just made me appreciate the good things more. Work harder to keep a hold of them.’

I started to say more but stopped myself just in time. Talking about my past was a dangerous route, and I already said too much.

‘Can I ask you something, Arty?’ Reece addressed me from his perch against the kitchenette’s countertop.

I tensed, ready to shoot down anything I couldn’t answer. ‘Sure…’

‘Did you grow up in a cult?’

I blinked. That wasn’t the direction I had expected the questions to go, nor had I expected him to be so blunt. I was about to say no, but then I thought about it a bit more. I hadn’t technically grown up in a cult, per se, but I had grown up in a comparable manner.

The innocently curious expression on his and everyone else’s faces pushed me to do something I didn’t think I ever would: talk about my past. ‘I wouldn’t call it a cult ,’ I started. ‘But I was isolated and sheltered from the worlds outside the compound. And there were a lot of rules. Breaking them came with some pretty severe consequences, too. And we were expected to do things… things I didn’t want to do…’ I trailed off.

Memories bombarded me of spittle flying from angry-set mouths as I was shouted at for refusing an order. Or failing one. Of the way I felt when they demanded I hurt people ‘in the name of science.’ Or how they threatened others to force my obedience.

‘Arty?’ Reece was suddenly in front of me, both of his wide, strong hands gripping my shoulders as his eyes forced mine to make contact. ‘Arty, you okay, man?’

The way he addressed me as if I were someone else, some thing else, was like a bucket of ice water thrown over my head. I jolted at the sensation, then shrugged him off so I could back away.

‘Yeah, sorry. I don’t like talking about it,’ I explained.

‘No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’

My answering smile was weak. ‘It’s okay. I guess I haven’t really talked about myself much. I should’ve realised one of you might get curious.’

I tried to brush it off as if it were nothing, but I didn’t think I was fooling anyone. They were each looking at me as if I were someone to be pitied, and I hated that. I was a survivor, not a victim. I endured all of the shit from The Program, I got out, and I was stronger for it.

I never should have let them see through the cracks in the first place.

‘We should get going,’ I changed the subject. ‘You finally get a chance to stretch those wings, Cadmus. Wouldn’t want to be late.’

The smile he shot my way was gentler than any I had seen from him before, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. But they took the bait and rose to leave .

‘You’re just desperate to see my wings. Don’t lie,’ he teased, and it dragged a genuine laugh out of me.

‘Of course,’ I didn’t bother denying. I was eager to see them.

As we left, Urman stopped me and we hung back behind the others as we walked. ‘Would you check on him?’

‘Who? Dorian?’

‘Yes. He can be sensitive about his roots sometimes, especially around all these people who have never struggled once in their lives. I would talk to him myself, but I think it would be better coming from you.’

My brows dipped in confusion. ‘Me? Why would he listen to me?’

‘Because your upbringing was closer to his than ours,’ he said as if it were obvious.

‘Urman, my upbringing was nothing like Dorians. You’re his friend, you should be the one to check on him,’ I objected.

The look he gave me screamed disappointment, but I wasn’t sure why. Dorian and I weren’t exactly close, and Urman had become his closest friend here. It would mean a lot more coming from him than me.

When I said as much, Urman pursed his lips and looked even more disappointed. In me? Because his friend was upset? I honestly didn’t know. Either way, he picked up the pace to leave me behind, and I hurried to catch up before the elevator shut without me in it.

???

I was right about Cadmus. He was more than just eager to stretch his wings and take to the air. He was practically jumping at the bit. Before the rest of us had even managed to open our lockers he had removed his top and wing restraints, shoved them haphazardly on top of his gym clothes, and was already in the air and circling the dome by the time the rest of us caught up .

And he didn’t disappoint. His wings were magnificent . They were smaller than the purebloods’, most likely due to the dilution of his mixed-race genetics, but they were no less stunning. The primary colour was a deep purple that matched his eyes and the tint of his skin, and the further they extended the more the shade blended into lighter colours, turning blue and then green. What was most visually appealing, however, were the bright streaks of red and yellow that broke through in seemingly random places, lending an even greater vibrancy to their appearance.

He caught me watching, my head tilted back as I gaped in open awe at his display. I should have realised what was about to happen when he smirked, a smug look that I thought was merely meant to convey his pleasure at someone enjoying the sight of his wings. Instead, he suddenly tucked them in tight against his sides and swooped low, his descent quick and right towards me.

A squeak escaped my throat as I ducked low, but his wings snapped back out again at the last moment and he soared back up into the dome. But not without the green tips of his feathers brushing against my cheek. They were softer than I’d imagined they would be and tickled where they touched.

It was an oddly intimate action, particularly for someone who had shown no interest in me beyond a friendly acquaintanceship. Neither one of us had made a move to get to know the other on a deeper level, and the conversation around breakfast was the first time I had opened up at all around him. Perhaps he was teasing me for gawping at him, mistaking my intrigue for a different type of interest. And while he wasn’t unattractive in outward appearances, I didn’t think I would have been interested in him romantically even if I weren’t undercover as a boy. He was too much of a spoilt brat to consider him as a viable mate.

Not that I was considering anyone as a viable mate. Even Bromm. I might want to do naughty things to him in particular, and I may have snuck a peak at Reece and Foryk when they were changing or checked out the way their muscles flexed beneath their uniforms, but that didn’t mean I had to act on it. I had already allowed my feelings for the Griknot prince to grow much larger than was safe, I wasn’t about to add another to the list because of some pretty feathers.

‘What was that?’ Bromm asked, appearing beside me while my attention was still on Cadmus.

‘Hmm? What was what?’ I asked back, not really focused on anything but the aerial show happening above. There were so many distinct colours in all different shades. Some were dark, almost black while others were more vibrant like Cadmus’, and there were even a few lighter and pastel variations to round it out. I had never seen anything so beautiful.

‘You flirting with him now, too?’ he asked, a dark note to his tone that snapped me back to the ground.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Forget it,’ he snapped, then stomped away to where Foryk stood at the weightlifting station. The large Tornu didn’t need any more muscle, but he was apparently going for the boulder look.

My gaze drifted back upwards, though it was blurred slightly by my furrowed brows. I didn’t understand what just happened completely, but I thought I detected what I could only discern was jealousy. Did Bromm believe I was leading him on and then flirting with other men right in front of him?

Surely not. I thought I had been pretty clear about my intentions, or more accurately the lack thereof. I didn’t understand why he thought I would turn him down only to flirt with someone else, even after I’d all but admitted my growing feelings for him too.

Or was that the issue? Did he think I had rejected him for someone else? For Cadmus , of all people? I might not have been able to allow whatever was brewing between us to stabilise into something more tangible, but I didn’t want to leave him thinking I was so callous and careless with his feelings .

But he was a Griknot. Besides Adara, they were notorious for their lasciviousness. I didn’t know they were even capable of feeling jealousy, and from what I understood from overheard conversations between him and Foryk, they had shared lovers in the past. Which meant he wasn’t adverse to multiple partners.

So where was this really coming from?

Objectively I knew it was irrational to feel guilt when I had been open and honest about my rejection, but I still found my legs moving me towards his retreating back. Foryk saw me coming and glanced between us, his interested causing him to back away to allow me to move closer to Bromm.

‘You can’t just storm off like that,’ I berated.

He scoffed. ‘I can do whatever I want,’ was his oh, so immature reply.

‘If you have an issue with me, Bromm, then tell me. Don’t talk in riddles and expect me to read your mind, because I may have quite a few skills in my arsenal but telepathy isn’t one of them,’ I hissed through clenched teeth.

‘I don’t want you to read my mind. I want you to leave me alone so I can work out. You know, like you’re supposed to be doing, too?’ he snarked back, and his attitude was really starting to make my blood boil. I didn’t know why I was reacting this way. I never let anyone get under my skin like this, and I certainly shouldn’t be acting on it.

‘You’re behaving like a child,’ I told him, disappointment colouring my tone. I had expected more from him. More maturity. More honesty. This version of Bromm was one I hadn’t met before and he was reminding me more so of the whiny elitists than the man I had begun to know.

‘Oh, I’m a child? You’re the one checking everyone out!’ he barked.

‘And you don’t?’ I asked, genuinely confused.

‘Not since I realised how much I actually like you .’ He was in my face now, breathing heavily, but his words pulled me up short.

I didn’t know how to respond.

He softened almost immediately when he noticed how lost I was, melting right back into the Bromm I was familiar with. ‘Come with me,’ he said, wrapping my hand in his and pulling me along behind him. I let him. I could have gotten out of his hold if I’d really wanted to, but that part of me I had spent so long pushing away was refusing to budge. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to taste those luscious lips again, to feel his beard tangling in my hair and sucking gently on that sweet spot beneath my ear.

‘Min’Tuk! Mercer! Where do you think you’re off to?’ Corporal Gwym called down from the dome. He dove down and landed before us, tucking his wings in close to his back. ‘You’re not dismissed, cadets.’

‘Sorry, sir,’ I said, the reality of where we were and what we were doing crashing down around me. ‘We were just heading to the bags,’ I redirected, pointing at the rows of punching bags we had been about to pass. The corporal knew it was a lie, giving us both a shrewd, narrow-eyed glare.

‘Do you think that’s the best idea after last time, Mercer?’ he asked, doubt clouding his voice.

I shot him a sheepish smile that wasn’t even false, then squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye. ‘Are you saying the others are faulty, too?’

The entire left side of his face twitched. I had just won that round whether he liked it or not. ‘The bags are fine, Mercer. No one’s breaking these ones.’

He moved aside to let us pass, and I was now the one dragging Bromm.

‘Arty, are you sure about this?’ he whispered behind me.

‘Would you rather get a demerit for skipping class?’ I retorted.

He huffed but squared up against one of the punching bags. He cast me a wary look out of the corner of is eyes, settled into an awkward stance, wound his arm back, then launched the sloppiest punch I had ever seen. It might have done some damage against flesh and bone, but he also would’ve injured himself in the process. Not to mention how his entire body fell into the action, almost dropping him face-first onto the mats before he caught himself on the bag as it swung away. He stumbled with its momentum.

Stop,’ I said, moving behind him. I gripped his hips and kicked his legs out further. ‘Bend your legs a bit more,’ I instructed. He did. ‘Good. This will keep you balanced and steady even when someone hits you back,’ I told him, then proceeded to prove my point by giving him a little shove. He wavered for a moment but quickly righted himself, and he looked shocked but pleased by the change.

Without waiting for any more instruction, he began to wind his arm back for another attempt. I gripped his fist in my hand to stop him.

‘Wait. You’ll hurt yourself if you punch like that.’ I let go of his fist to bring it up to eye level, tsking at the position of his fingers. ‘If you tuck your thumb inside your fist you’ll break it,’ I said, peeling his fingers back to release the offending digit and reforming his fist into the correct shape.

‘And when you pull back,’ I began, moving his entire torso into a sturdier position, ‘you want to follow through with your upper body. Twist your hips, but keep your feet planted on the floor. And try to hit the bag gently. Your hands aren’t wrapped.’

He did as he was told, and I stayed behind him with my hands on his hips, his shoulders, his back, readjusting when needed.

‘You’re really good at this,’ he complimented me.

I gave the back of his head a grim smile. ‘I’m good at lots of things,’ I mumbled too low for him to hear. It wasn’t a brag. I did know lots of things. Things I never should have been taught. Things I had been forced to implement in real-world situations that had caused other people’s suffering .

Things I wish I wasn’t good at.

A commotion drew my attention nearby, and I pulled away from Bromm. I was enjoying a little too much how the softness of his flesh gave way under my ministrations, and even more how that softness hid a hardness underneath that was mesmerising to feel beneath my fingertips.

Grunts and whoops of laughter drifted over to us, and Bromm turned with me to watch a group of cadets pulling and yanking on the remains of the punching bag I had accidentally destroyed. They were trying to tear the material with no success, bodies straining and veins bulging in their necks as they tried and tried to no avail.

‘How the fuck did that scrawny little thing tear right through this ?’ one exclaimed, falling back onto his ass with a breathless exhaustion.

Another attempted to find an explanation. ‘There must have been a weak spot and he probably hit it by accident.’

They continued taking turns trying to rip the bag even more, though a lot less seriously now to avoid injuring themselves when it became clear they wouldn’t be successful.

Bromm’s expression was on lockdown when I faced him, and I decided that was the time to walk away and focus on my own workout to avoid further scrutiny. ‘You’ve got it now. Just keep practicing and you’ll be a pro in no time,’ I told him, and then rushed to the water station, pretending I needed to hydrate after exerting myself helping him.

I hadn’t. Even if I’d been a regular Terran I wouldn’t have broken a sweat while instructing him. My excuse was flimsy at best, but I didn’t have it in me to care. My mission was moving forward, my secret was still safe for now, and I needed to keep my head on straight. I was here for a reason. Fraternising was never going to end well, for me or anyone else.

But when Bromm leant close as he passed me in the locker rooms and whispered in my ear, ‘We should talk. Let’s share a bed again tonight,’ I could feel myself caving again already.

Was that really all it took to turn my head?

I was woman enough to admit to myself that I would be sharing a bed with Bromm again tonight, good idea or not.