Page 78 of A Trial of War
I coughed, trying to clear my throat, the heat and dry air not settling well. It was nothing like the humid comfort of Solace or the mild forest climate of Silver Meadows. Here, sweat vanished almost as soon as it formed, giving the illusion of clarity. My skin felt tight and cracked. My throat was raw.
Gods, even my lips stung every morning as I awoke in my room.
I paused at the edge of the training ring, letting my eyes adjust to the dance of sunlight on metal as it flew through a cloud of dust, following the pull in my chest.
I smiled as I crossed my arms and leaned against the sandstone wall, watching my mate spar with deadly precision in the fury of sand that danced around her footsteps. Zolamoved like a lethal strike of lightning, meeting her opponent with deadly precision and ferocity.
Gunnar, whom I had come to tolerate, matched her step for step. His grin was wide, his ego practically radiating off him like the blistering heat of this place.
I had to admit, I’d underestimated his skill, along with his ability to relate and lead his warriors. He was cocky, infuriating, and yet… watching them spar, I couldn’t deny his skill.
Envy wasn’t a good color on me, I’ll admit. But the unsealed mate bond was driving me into a frenzy. Causing me to become overly protective, needing to be near her, touch her, or at the very least hear her voice beyond the divide of our rooms.
The sound of clanging steel brought me back. There was a rhythm to their fighting, a dynamic push and pull, and beneath it, a deep sense of respect earned through years spent together in Silver Meadows. Gunnar wasn’t threatening her. He was testing her, and judging by the determined look in Zola’s eyes, she welcomed it. No. She thrived on it.
I tightened my jaw. My pulse ticked in my ears, not from fear, but from… something else.
Jealousy?Maybe.
It was irrational, of course. Gunnar wasn’t a threat—not to her, or me. Their bond, whatever it was, was built on trust and history, not lust. I’d learned that during my recovery, when Zola would sit and talk with me, keeping me company.
I was surprised at first, not knowing what to think, but then, for once, I stopped thinking and listened.
I listened to her talk about her early life in Crimson City. Her time in Aelius and then Silver Meadows. My mate was well over five centuries old, full of wisdom and vast experiences I longed to learn more about. And, from my research, I was overjoyed to learn that if she allowed our bond to be sealed, we could live a thousand more years together.
I took a careful step forward onto the training grounds, watching Zola as she spun, twisting away from Gunnar’s blade with a grace that made my chest tighten. Those black stripes across her tawny skin shimmered faintly in the sun, each movement revealing a power and precision I could never fully emulate.
And yet, I wanted to try.
Gunnar laughed again, a booming, arrogant sound that carried across the yard. “Hey, Shaw!”
I held up my hand, giving the general a nod.
“You’re up next, if you feel up to it,” Gunnar said, wiping his brow.
“Are you cleared to train?” Zola asked.
I rolled my neck and stepped into the training circle. “Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
I ignored Gunnar’s side comment as he moved from the ring, keeping my attention on Zola. I noted the slight arch of her back as she moved in her session, the tightening of her fingers around her hilt, the minuscule pivot of her foot that told me exactly where she planned to move.
My mind cataloged it all, measuring distance, timing, and potential openings.
“You move like a predator,” I said.
The hint of a smile curved at the corner of her mouth.
Gunnar smirked over my shoulder. “The best way to prepare for battle together is to know how your allies fight. Which is why I am pairing all shifters and humans in rings today.”
“For once, you had a good idea. Don’t let it get to your head,” Zola said.
Gunnar narrowed his eyes at Zola and leaned close, handing me a blade. “Good luck. Don’t let her get too close, or else you’re done for.”
“Noted.”
The mate bond tugged beneath my ribs, drawing my gaze back across the ring.
Gunnar clapped his hands together and stepped back. “Alright. Begin.”
