Page 27 of Ashes of Honor
“As much as I wish that could be true Amaia, it is not.” Her stone-cold gaze hardened. “You don’t get to hold yourself to the same standards as everyone else because you are noteveryone else. You are a leader. I had faith in you once, and I’d like to again.”
“I hope that someday you can.” I swallowed hard. “As you are acutely aware, healing and grief aren’t linear. You can’t control them. And I’m regretfully sorry to be the reason you understand that.”
I turned to leave, but Yasmin’s voice stopped me at the door. “You’re going to get him killed, you know. Whatever you’re planning … even if it’s you, he’ll die too.”
My chest tightened, fire searing my skin. The candles around the room flickered out all at once.
I stood still for a moment, then faced her, my voice measured. “Thank you, Yasmin, for your advice. I’ll be sending someone to work with the kids after their final activities starting Monday. Her name is Lola. She’ll be at your disposal for as longas she’s here. There’s a lot to learn. As for theSeer, Tomoe is officially her mentor, effective immediately. I trust you’ll find the right words to not cause an uproar with the parents.”
I didn’t break eye contact, my voice dropping enough to make sure the message landed. “And, Yasmin? Don’t you ever say something like that to me again. If I even catch a whisper of you bringing it up around Riley—hinting toward my death or his on my account—we’ll have a real problem. He doesn’t need those seeds of doubt planted in his head. Don’t let your relationship make you careless. I am still the general, and Idohave final say on who stays and who goes.”
Riley
Ididn’t sob for Jax. There was no wail that burst free from my throat at Mohammed’s death. I allowed only a few tears to fall in the wake of Prescott. My grief was a quiet, unrelenting ache. A slow leaking wound that was impossible to stitch.
It controlled my life. Haunted me, a ghost lingering in a graveyard. Grief seeped into my everything—my thoughts, my breaths, the damned spaces between my words. No one noticed it. I couldn’t let them. They had their own shit to deal with. Amaia was focused on keeping this place going.
If I brought up Prescott or Jax, her focus could shift. She would lose everything they fought for. I refused to be the reasonshe let them down. Yasmin only wanted to move forward. To focus on the future. And maybe that’s what made it worse. The fact that it lingered. Simmered. Waited and lurked until I was so beat down, I couldn’t hide it anymore.
“Strike.” I commanded over the chaos of The Pit.
Elie grunted. Her kick headed straight for my kneecap. I allowed it to happen, going with the flow of her training. It wasn’t a full spar. Just going through routine, a mindless activity for the tension of our relationship and the lack of focus on both ends. I didn’t want to be here anymore than she did, but I had responsibilities. Duties and oaths I’d sworn. Promises to keep to my family.
“Strike.” I caught this one. The full force of her kick powered directly to my kidney.
Training her had become draining. The mental warfare of her anger beat me down in ways I refused to admit, let alone show. I knew there was more to it. Her anger toward me was justified on several accounts. That didn’t mean each blow of her words or occasional strike with the intent to hurt didn’t pierce my heart.
Elie tossed her body forward. Her curly brown hair fell free as her hair tie loosened at the movement. She hooked her arm around my knee and the consequence of such a fatal mistake hit me the moment it happened. Too eager. She always had been when it came to hand to hand. Elie threw her weight back too soon. Her grip loosened, making the momentum to knock me off balance impossible. I held onto her by the ankle.
“Urgh.” Elie kicked out, not pleased to be left dangling in the air, curls skimming the ground. A sharp scowl twisted her face. I sighed, dropping her with less compassion than I could be proud of. “I’m too small. It doesn’t matter what I do!”
“What do you think I’m trying to teach you, Eleanor? You aren’t smaller than Amaia. You think she’d fare any betteragainst someone my size without proper training?”My voice came out more clipped than intended.
Elie scrambled to her feet, brushing off the dust of The Pit with quick, jerky movements. “She’sUmbra Mortis. It doesn’t matter what shewouldbe able to do.” Her eyes flashed. That familiar stubbornness set in like stone.
“You think she hasn’t met her match before? You don’t become general by accident,” I hissed. She’d damn near died gaining her position and I hadn’t been there to save her.
“No,” she muttered, the impending insult soft but sharp enough to cut deep. “But in your case, there’s always nepotism.”
I stepped closer, looming over her. “Stop.” The command was simple, but my voice was low.
As far back as my memory went, I don’t recall being angry— fueled by hurt from someone I never expected. I didn’t want to add insult to injury and lose my temper. It would get us nowhere.
“What?” She shrugged, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The way she looked at me, that smug grin powered by so much hatred—it made my blood simmer. I closed my eyes.One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Four Mississippi. Five Mississippi. Six Mississippi. Seven Mississippi. Eight Mississippi. Nine Mississippi. Ten Mississippi.
Counting helped. Numbers helped. Gave me somewhere else to focus.I exhaled slowly. It was an effort to keep my voice steady. “Are we going to move past this one day, or should I call it quits and ask Moe to train you instead? We can’t keep doing this. This is important for your survival. You will gain nothing from me as a teacher if you doubt every instruction I give.”
I gestured vaguely between us, begging, pleading with her to stop. She was tearing my heart apart with the guilt of grief. A soldier cannot let it simmer, or it will destroy us.
“Move past? Move—” A clipped, erratic laugh bellowed from her. She shoved a harsh, pointed, intentional finger into my chest. Her light brown eyes danced in anger. In rage. In blame. “You killed him!” The words were a knife. “It is your fault he’s dead. You are the only one to blame for him beingtortured.You know you stole peace from him? Right?” Her voice cracked, but her fury didn’t waver.
Eleanor. Elie.Elie. God, she was so similar to London. London, my little sister. A name long buried in the recesses of my mind. A fissure in my memory in an attempt to block out the pain. Yet here it was. Threatening to break through. I had to keep moving forward. I had to.
But everything about Amaia—it reminded me of her.
The fire in her eyes. The way she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Elie resembled them both. It was all a vicious cycle of reincarnation before I had time to grieve the pain I’d caused the last.
