Page 33 of The Incendiary

“Why?” I asked warily.

“Because I might have to recruit them if they can help me get my soldiers to fight like you.”

It was an effort not to laugh. Recruiting the man that taught me to fight would not go the way he expected.

“Is that a compliment, Commander?” I smirked. “I was beginning to think you weren’t capable of niceties.”

“To whoever trained you, yes.” He took a step back from the bars and stood straight. Maybe he wasn’t quite as prideful as I thought if he was willing to give credit where it was due. “And despite that smart-ass mouth, I’ve decided to give you a chance.”

I hated that hope made my heart swell. His approval was what I needed to get out of this prison cell and into a Barracks bunk.

“You have?” I asked.

He folded his arms, his forearms straining the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll be frank with you, Fera. My queen is gone, and things aren’t going so well for me at the moment. I won’t turn down trained fighters, especially ones as determined as you.” Hate darkened his features. “The Butcher handed my queen over to Molochai to be slaughtered, and I need them both fucking dead.”

Terror at the thought paralyzed me where I stood. My breath sunk low in my chest. And while my thoughts were my own, it was his voice I heard in my head again.

Steady.

He cannot shake you.

Do not show him your fear.

“And?” I croaked.

“And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that happens, including taking a chance on every eager fighter that knocks on my door.”

I lifted my chin in a show of confidence. “Are you saying you trust me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “But I’ve faced my share of Insidions, and my gut tells me you aren’t one of them. The resistance against Molochai cannot be limited to the people within my grandfather’s caves. We’re growing, but it’s not enough without the queen’s power.” That same curiosity from earlier flitted across his face. “And I’m well aware we aren’t the only ones who have suffered at the hands of Molochai and his Butcher.”

I saw in him something I didn’t expect: compassion. He didn’t know my story, but I could tell he believed that I had lost. And in loss, we were similar. His parents. His sister. Oliver. Phillip. Lives stolen by the same blade. Whether it had been by his will or not, those deaths were the Butcher’s work.

“I do think you’re special, Fera.” He held up a finger and pointed at me, his short-lived compassion gone. “An… exception. So I’m going to make an exception for you.” The taunting foreboding in his tone didn’t make me feel special, only targeted. “You can participate in Commencement. However, I don’t believe you when you say you weren’t trying to break in here⁠—”

“I wasn’t!” I snapped. “I just wanted to talk to you!”

“And I’m flattered, of course.” His flawless lips twisted into a smirk I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at. “Regardless, I’m going to make you work a little harder. While the other cadets will be assigned teams during a few different tests, you will be acting alone.”

Fear and excitement warred inside me. I was being singled out, but when I survived this, there would be no doubt that I could fight and lead.

“This year’s cadets arrive tomorrow morning,” Elias advised. “They have been made aware of an outsider. Be compliant, adhere to the rules, don’t piss anyone off, and you might survive the next eight weeks. You’ll have to prove yourself, and I will not make it easy for you. If you succeed”—his obtrusive eyes made my palms sweat—“we’ll go from there.”

I knew I would inevitably reveal myself, but I was now morbidly curious to know what plans Elias Winterton had for the girl I was pretending to be.

“Good luck, Fera.” Elias turned to go. “You’ll need it.”

“I won’t need your luck, nor do I want it,” I snapped as his broad shoulders tensed beneath yellow torchlight. “And Commander?”

He stopped in the doorway and turned back. The sight of his ocean-mist eyes—despite the distaste they held—stole my breath a bit.

“You’ll do well to remember that I do not comply.”

For a moment, he lingered. As he turned away, I thought I caught a hint of a grin.

Two new guards were posted outside my cell. The moment they sat, a gentle breeze brushed the back of my neck, followed by a low whoosh. Fists clenched, I turned and looked down at my bed to find a note in Simeon’s handwriting. Beside it sat a sleek black pen.

Stop this, Aryella, before you cause irreparable damage to your people, your betrothed, and your reputation.