5. CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5

L ight's Tower had always felt like Val's home. But in the days after Aris's betrayal, it started to feel like a battleground.

It didn't take long for Val's unit to hear about the incident. Aris's comment had seemed to reignite the rumor mill that Val had not earned her captain's rank in any way other than on her knees.

"Just ignore them," Atria whispered, her hand clasped tightly around Val's arm as they headed to training one morning. A few soldiers Val recognized from Lycas's unit made kissing noises at her, laughing uproariously as she passed. But every jeer, every laugh, was starting to chip away at Val's very soul.

She didn't want to go to training anymore. She barely wanted to leave her room. But every morning, Lucia was at her door, waiting for her.

"You do not hide from these people," Lucia told her.

But that was all she wanted to do. Hide.

Until the day that Aris burst through her bedroom door.

"What in the Mother—" Val sprang from her bed. She had been lying down, pouring over some fluffy book Katia had given her, but it went flying with the crash of her door against the wall.

Aris was panting, his face white. He was wearing his usual tunic that clung to him in all the right—and very wrong—places. She never thought she would miss the armor so much.

"General, I'm really not in the mood," she snapped, but the sheer panic on his face as he shook his head made Val forget for a second how angry she was at him.

"T-Titus," he panted.

Val stilled. "What about him?" But she knew the answer. One look at Aris's face told her all she needed to know. Nothing else would panic the general like this. Nothing else besides maybe kissing her like the world was ending.

"He did it . . .?" she whispered.

The general stumbled into her room, pushing the door closed and slumping against it, his face ashen. He was in such a state that Val didn't even have time to be worried about being alone in a room with him again for the first time in weeks.

"I just got word from our spies in Maniel," he told her. "They said Titus flew over the Red Citadel on the back of an enormous, winged beast."

Val's heart skipped a beat. Titus had always been a terrifying, bloodthirsty brute. She had only met the male once or twice, the last being when she was young—barely out of adolescence. There was nothing that terrified her more than seeing him in the throne room of the Red Citadel. How his gaze had swept her body, those red eyes of his gleaming when he told her parents that she had "blossomed nicely." How she would make a valuable bride for his son . . .

To picture the High King on the back of a deadly, winged beast—one that could burn whole kingdoms to the ground—she did not want to think . . .

Aris slumped down on the edge of her bed, rubbing his face with a rough hand. The mattress sank with his weight, and Val felt herself instinctively draw her legs to her chest. It was only then that she realized she was in her very thin, very short nightgown. Gods only knew what Aris could see through the sheer fabric.

But Aris was not looking at her. His back was to her as he stared into the corner of the room as if he didn't see a thing.

"I'm sorry, Valeria," he whispered finally.

Val did not know what he was apologizing for. Was it for not acting in time to stop Titus? Was it for the rumor she had caught him spreading? Or was it for the kiss that both of them seemed to wish had never happened?

It was only as he turned back to look at her could she see the ghost in those starburst eyes. The hollowness that he always disguised. The empty cracks in his soul he couldn't seem to hide from her. She fought the urge to reach for them, to scoop them up in her hands and piece him back together like a broken vase. He was not hers to fix.

She decided then that none of it mattered. If Titus had a dragon, they were all as good as dead, anyway. They had more important things to worry about now.

"If Titus has tamed a dragon, time is of the essence," she said. It hurt her to ignore him, to not hear the apology he may have been about to give her. It didn't matter what he was sorry for. She would not let herself care. "All we can do is focus on what our next move will be. It is your call, General."

Aris stared at her as if he didn't know what to say. Whether he noticed the stiffness in her shoulders or the formality of her tone, he seemed to regiment himself again. With the swiftness of a cloud passing in front of the moon, the general composed himself.

"We need to warn Bridah . . . They must come up with a solution that could guard against even a dragon. I will call a meeting first thing in the morning and brief the Legion," Aris said, speaking to the fire, as if lost in his own thoughts. "We'll dispatch several units to the Manielian-Bridanian border as a safeguard in the meantime."

"I'll go." Val heard herself volunteer without a second thought. Aris looked surprised.

"Are you sure?"

Val nodded. She wanted to get away from Light's Tower. She wanted to do something other than pine and lament over the Pillar Legion's general. She wanted to fight and kill instead of sitting here, replaying how it felt to kiss him, how it felt when he licked her bare flesh . . .

Val's face heated at the thought, something that did not escape the general's notice. It was at that moment both of them seemed to realize how close they were—and just how small Val's bed was. Even with her knees to her chest, Aris's hard, muscular back was barely a breath away from her. Gods, she could still see every ripple of muscle in her mind's eye when she had ripped his tunic off that night. Suddenly the room began to feel very warm.

She could tell Aris was remembering that night, too. The way his eyes swept over her bare legs, how his expression darkened, a shadow of the same feral look passing across his face.

For a second, it was like they were right back to that night, with Val laid out on his desk with her legs open for him . . . before Aris cleared his throat and looked away.

"I should go," he said gruffly. "There's a lot to be done, and if you're going to the border tomorrow, you'll need your sleep."

The knot in Val's chest tightened. It was as if her skin had turned into a live flame, prickling with his proximity. Gods, why was she so drawn to him? A moth to a flame, a dragon to a fire . . . She wanted him right now . Regardless of everything he had said, of everything he had done, she sat next to him on that bed and missed him. She wanted him more than anything in her entire life.

Which was exactly why she nodded, dismissing him. And Aris stood and left the room as if he didn't feel the heat, too. As if it were all too easy.

Val's unit was packed. The ships were equipped with supplies, their swords sharpened, armor polished, and apprehension high. Yet, Val could not help feeling torn as she prepared to leave Light's Tower. However, she was grateful to not have to hear the sneers of Lycas or Elric and their lot, since only Saros's unit and the smaller squadrons from Maniel were slotted to join them

However, she could not help but crane her neck on the loading dock, looking for a flash of gold, like she always did.

"I haven't seen him," a voice to her left said. Lucia came to stand beside her, her tawny hair pulled into several braids down her back. She looked every bit the traditional Manielian warrior. Val, meanwhile, felt like an absolute sham.

"Who?" Val asked innocently, but Lucia saw right through her. Reaching out, she laid a gentle hand on Val's arm.

"We are beside you, Captain," she said. "The three of us have your back."

Val gave her a grim smile in return. "I know you do. And I have yours."

They loaded onto the ship, Val's heart heavy in her chest. That knot of anxiety had been getting tighter and tighter since the night before with Aris in her bedroom. And she was still stupid enough to keep looking for him.

She chose to stay on the deck as the rest got situated down below. This was a long journey, one they had taken many times. Sometimes, Val wished she had been stationed on the continent to avoid this day-long voyage. But part of her liked the sea. She leaned against the wooden banister of the ship as they pushed off from shore, the sea breeze rippling her hair, gulls chirping overhead.

Her eyes lingered on the shrinking shadow of Light's Tower. From this distance, it was a jagged spike embedded in the mountaintop, its stone turrets visible from here. In all the decades of life she had already lived, she had never felt more at home than she had in that tower.

The Augusta Manor, with its curling ivy and red rose gardens, had always been more hostile than any battlefield she had ever been on. She was more prepared on battlefields. Fearless. At home, however . . .

Her mind drifted like the waves underneath her. Drifted back to what it was like to live in that large manor house. Her father and mother were respected courtiers and rarely home. They mostly worked the Ember Courts, leaving the three children home, alone. Most wouldn't think twice about being home alone with their siblings, but to Val, it was akin to being hunted for sport.

As the middle brother, Leonidas, came into his powers, he often liked to test them on her. Leo was the picture of a vicious psychopath, loving pain, soaking up her screams and tears as he held her down . . . and sometimes did more than just burn her.

Val shifted against the cold wind, shivers crawling up her spine as she thought of her middle brother. Leo had been obsessed with power. Had been fascinated with the thought of powerful families inter-marrying to make the bloodline stronger. She knew it had been the cause of his obsession with her . . . tormenting her, trapping her . . . touching her.

Her eldest brother, Lorenzo, did nothing to stop him. Lorenzo had always been a mystery to her. Cold and brutal, often holding himself with the regality of a High King, he did not torture her like Leo did, but he did not have time for her either. He rarely had the time for things that did not make him stronger or advance his military ambitions.

She supposed Lorenzo's treatment of her was preferable to Leo's, but still. The very thought of her brothers made her head spin, made her want to empty out her stomach over the edge of the warship.

Leo's voice echoed in her mind, "You like it hot, baby sister?" Val's vision blurred and she closed her eyes, attempting to block out the memory of that voice, of the pain, fear, and shame that would accompany those words.

"Valeria?"

Val started, whirling around and nearly losing her balance. A firm hand caught her and steadied her.

"What are you doing here?" Val cried. Those hands did not leave her waist. If anything, they tightened around her, as if they were itching to pull her closer.

"A general goes where he is needed, Valeria," Aris said, giving her a small smile. It was not like his usual flirtations; it was something else. An olive branch. A bridge back to how they were before that kiss. Before she had admitted to herself that maybe, just maybe, Lucia had been right. That there was something in her heart for the general.

Aris released her, and Val had to grip the railing again to keep herself steady. Strong. She had to keep things in perspective. Had she really so easily forgiven Aris for that moment during the festival? The answer was a resounding no .

"You are not needed, General," Val said coolly, turning back towards the sea, determined not to look at those hazel eyes. "I have everything well in hand."

Aris chuckled. "Lucky everything," he murmured.

Val glared at him, and Aris laughed. When she did not so much as crack a smile, his own grin faded. They stood silently, side by side, staring out at the waters, watching Light's Tower and the shores of Elbania fade into the distance.

She wondered if she'd ever get used to standing next to this male. If it would ever stop feeling like swimming in a lake when lightning strikes. The sides of her waist, which his hands had just released, were still screaming for his touch. She decided she hated her traitorous body more than she hated the general. Which was saying something.

"I set them straight, you know." Aris's words took her aback, and she shot him a confused glance. "About what I said that night on Gaia," he elaborated. He wasn't looking at her. Instead, he studied his clasped hands, free of gauntlets or gloves. Val could see every worn callous, every scar and scab that hours of hard training with his enormous longsword had yielded. But even though he didn't meet her gaze, she could sense his contrition. "I forbade them from mentioning it again. From harassing you about it."

Val scoffed. "As nice of a sentiment as that is, General, I do not believe they listened very well. You should work on insubordination in your ranks."

Aris gave her a crooked grin. She hated that grin. It was so dazzlingly handsome, so imperfectly perfect, that she wanted to reach out and touch it. Wanted to kiss it off his face . . . wanted to throw herself overboard just for thinking it.

"When we return to Light's Tower after this mess, I will see to it," he said. And then he reached out and put his hand down on top of hers. When she looked over at him, alarmed, it was only to see that hardened gaze of gold staring back at her. "I promise, Valeria," he said vehemently. "I will make this right."

Val stared at him for a second, before asking, "Why did you say it?"

He removed his hand, looking away. "It was stupid."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Aris sighed. "I know. I was just . . . I was just stupid, Valeria." After a pause, he mumbled, "Something I seem to be a lot when I'm around you."

They looked at each other, and she knew it was coming, and suddenly, she realized she was not ready for it.

"About that night . . . in my office—"

Val shook her head. "We do not have to talk about it, General," she said quickly, silencing anything further that he was going to say. "I get it. It was a momentary lapse of judgment."

"Valeria—"

"It's fine," Val insisted, turning to face him fully. They were so close, so alone. No one was on the deck, not a soul around but the gulls overhead and the fish under sea. But she could not give in to what she wanted. And she knew that neither could he. "It was stupid, right?"

Aris stared at her. His eyes scanned her face, before resting on her lips. The pull towards him was immense, but she pushed against it, pushed even when her own traitorous eyes lowered to his mouth.

"Stupid," he whispered.

"We won't talk about it again," she breathed, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her cheeks. "It never happened."

Aris looked as if he wanted to argue. He wrenched his gaze from her lips and looked up at her with wide hazel eyes. But something seemed to harden in them. And then he took a step back from her and nodded.