4. Rowan

Chapter 4

Rowan

T he mess hall falls deathly silent. Collin groans, blood trickling from his broken nose onto his lunch tray as he struggles to regain his balance. Ellie grabs my hand before I can rush over to help him, her fingers digging into my wrist.

“Dead rescuers help no one,” she warns quickly under her breath.

Kyrian leans in close to Collin, his tousled hair—which looked roguish a few moments ago now painting a savage edge. “First, the only walking disaster I see is the one whimpering in front of me right now,” Kyrian says, not bothering to keep his voice down. Or the menace behind it. "Second, Rowan is one of mine now. And you will treat her with all the respect due a cadet in my flag’s patrol. Am I understood?”

Collin wheezes out a choked affirmative, blood and spittle spraying from his injured face. The metallic scent fills my nostrils, making my stomach lurch.

“I didn’t hear you,” Kyrian's face remains impassive, glacial eyes boring into Collin's. “Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Collin mutters with a wince. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Kyrian says flatly. He releases his grip and Collin slumps back onto hi s seat, cradling his ruined face while the rest of the mess hall stares in frozen fascination. “Now, apologize.”

Collin hesitates. I’m familiar enough with the quirks of his temper to know that we are a millisecond away from an explosion that won’t end well. Before I can think of some way to defuse the situation though, Kyrian regrips Collin's collar and Collin gets a very fast grip on himself.

“I’m sorry, sir—” Collin starts, cutting off as Kyrian twists him around to face me. Collin is tall and toned, but he is nothing next to the warrior Kyrian is. His broken nose makes his voice thick.

“To her. Apologize to her,” Kyrian orders.

Fuck.

Collin’s eyes flash with fury. “I am sorry, Rowan.”

“Accepted,” I say quickly, and turn to Kyrian. “Could you please release my friend now?”

He does.

Twisting out of Ellie’s hold, I hurry to Collin, but Kyrian’s arm blocks my path.

"Rowan, with me. Now."

Ellie gives me a wide eyed look, asking what she should do. I shake my head at her quickly and follow Kyrian as if my heart isn’t about to jump from my chest.

No one in the mess hall even pretends not to watch us heading out. The attention makes me long for a hole to open in the floor. Kyrian, on the other hand, takes the attention for granted. Hells, he is expecting people to watch so that they can move from his path. And he’s right. They all do.

As we emerge into the courtyard, the afternoon sun bathes the stone walls in warm light, a jarring contrast to the icy tension radiating off Kyrian. He leads me to a secluded alcove, then rounds on me, arms crossed.

Kyrian’s words echo in my head. Rowan is one of mine now.

I wish Ellie was here with me, anchoring me to reality, because standing here in front of Kyrian is pulling my emotions in a million directions at once. I long to scream at him for what happened back in the mess hal l, to condemn in no uncertain terms the brutality he so casually unleashed. But a traitorous voice in my mind also whispers that never before in my life have I had that ferocity, that strength, wielded in my defense. And the emotions that come with that, they are… complicated.

"Let's get one thing straight,” Kyrian says quietly, his hard voice plunging me back into the now. “In my squad, I give the orders. Not you, not your wanna be boyfriend back there, not anyone else. Understood?"

I can only nod mutely, heart still hammering against my ribs. Then I recall how poorly non-verbal responses went for Collin and amend myself quickly. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

Kyrian studies me, and my body tenses in response. He has the full right to do almost anything he wishes to reinforce his orders in my memory. Certainly Kai Grayson isn’t going to stop him.

I brace myself for a blow.

Kyrian pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Kyr,” he says after a moment.

“I’m sorry?” It takes me a moment to realize no strike is coming.

“My friends call me Kyr,” he says.

“Good to know.” I cringe. That was probably not the right thing to say. No, it was most definitely not the right thing to say.

Kyrian snorts in soft amusement and… walks off. Without another word.

For a moment, I stand there, trying to reconcile this version of Kyrian with the one who just smashed Collin's face into a table without hesitation. I can’t. I’ve got nothing.

Giving up on the hopeless endeavor, I hurry back to the mess hall where Ellie is handing Collin a fresh napkin to press against his still bleeding nose. The rest of the cadets have gone back to their conversation, and the noise level is back to a sustained hum.

“Are you—” Ellie starts to ask, but I cut her off with a nod and put my hand on Collin’s arm.

“Hey,” I say gently, trying not to cringe at the mess Kyrian made of Collin’s face. “How are you doing? Are you alright? ”

“Really Ro?” He jerks away from me. “You steal everything I’ve worked for and then have the gall to ask if I’m alright?”

“Wait.” I step back, gripping my elbows. I know he is embarrassed and in pain and not thinking straight, but still. “What mental gymnastics did you do to make any of this my fault?”

Collin shakes his head slowly. “Are you kidding me, Ro? I spend years covering your weaknesses, putting myself on the line to keep you safe, piecing you together each time you break and the first chance you get, you snatch the top patrol slot right out from under me?”

“That’s not what I did.”

“Gods, can you stop and think about my feelings for a single moment? How do you imagine it feels to be betrayed like that?”

“Collin. I have zero control over the triad.”

“Don’t you? Because from where I sit, it looks like despite all my effort and sacrifice, despite the fact that I spent every spare moment training and you spent it laying back with a headache, you are the one who gets everything in the end. You know your blood runs more royal than mine, and you are riding that forward no matter who you plow over on the way, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t ask for this!” I snap.

“But you are happy to take it, aren't you?” he snaps right back, cursing as the blood soaks through his napkin.

My mind spins, my emotions churning. Collin is wrong but he also isn’t. He has been the one keeping me upright in the Spire. The one to take care of me. To take notice of me. And he has worked himself to the limit for the chance which I’d just been handed for nothing. I don’t deserve to be in a flag patrol. He does. But it’s still not my fault.

I don’t know what to say. What to feel. I shut my eyes. “What do you want from me?”

“Talk to your mother,” Collin says. “You know, the one who is the commandant and in charge of all this? Talk to her and get this sorted.”

“You can’t ask Ro to do that,” says Ellie .

“Fine, I’ll do it,” I say at the same time. "I'll... I'll talk to my mother if it means that much to you, alright?"

"It does.” Collin takes a deep breath and kisses the top of my head. "And so do you."

Three days later, I stare at the ceiling as I lie in bed, trying to find that balance point between resting without actually falling asleep. My body aches, especially my right ankle, which I came close to turning this morning. It’s been one assessment after another and I really want to sleep.

But I can’t.

Because there is something I want more, and—judging by the midnight toll of the bell—Ellie and Trish will be here soon to get us going. If I fall asleep now, I’ll hate myself when they wake me…

Tap tap tap.

I startle, opening my eyes to the familiar rhythmic knock. Rubbing my face vigorously, I slide out of bed and usher them inside.

Ellie grins at me. “You fell asleep didn’t you?”

“No.” I stifle a yawn and clumsily pull my pack out of its hiding place beneath the loose floorboards of my room.

“Uh huh.” Ellie raises her brow. She can function on four hours sleep. I’d take ten if I could. And we both know it.

“Yes,” I relent, sticking my tongue out at her. “But only for a few minutes. Happy?”

“Knew it.” She grins. Ellie has a bounce in her step as she shifts her own pack. Like mine and Trish’s, it’s full of medical supplies carefully appropriated from the Spire’s infirmary over the past month. “I just love being right, that’s all.”

“Too bad it happens so rarely,” I tell her.

She laughs and Trish quickly claps her hand over Ellie’s lips, lest our endeavor ends before it starts.

I shake my head, then start toward the tapestry concealing my room’s trapdoor passage. My pulse quickens as it always does when we do this, making me feel a little scared, and a little righteous, and a whole lot alive. I’m usually the most perfect rule following trainee in the world. Except for this one little thing.

“Wait.” Ellie clears her throat dramatically. “With field training coming, this is likely the last Operation Lifeline run for Ro and me. So, we have to mark the occasion. It’s like a rule.” She pulls a flask from the inside of her cloak and waggles it before us.

“A rule, eh?” Trish narrows her gaze at Ellie. She’s a year behind us and has been learning the ropes to keep Lifeline going.

“Absolutely.” Ellie nods sagely. “Ro, glasses?”

I don’t have any, but I quickly rinse out three vials that I use for mixing my daily tonics. Ellie pours a thumb-length of amber liquid into each. “To Operation Lifeline. May it transcend our graduation,” she announces.

“May it bring help to those who need it,” I add.

“May it not get us caught and arrested for treason,” Trish mutters.