Page 81 of The Trials of Ophelia

Her shoulders straightened. “I want to end this so it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

In a different sense, I understood what she meant. I wanted this war over so Lucidius’s actions stopped hurting others.

“Can I ask why you shared this with me?”

“Because, as you said, I’m really fucking strong to be here. Mila went through more than I did during the war, Malakai. The fact that she’s here at all is incredible. I don’t know if she would be if I wasn’t, to be honest. We’ve stuck together ever since the treaty. When one of us wakes screaming in the night, the other is always there to remind her where we are.

“I told her she didn’t have to come. I told her she didn’t have to fight. She wanted to be a damn general.” Lyria shook her head with a small smile. “And the fact that she’s helping you individually? I never thought I’d see it. So be patient with her. She has her reasons for everything she’s doing.”

Mila’s scars flashed through my mind unbidden, imprinted themselves on the back of my eyelids.

“I’ll remember,” I swore to Lyria. I’d been an ass to walk out of training.

“Good.” And quickly, she slipped back into her usual countenance. Still frazzled, but no longer blocking her emotions. “Now let’s get back. Breakfast smelled divine and those heathens always eat so quickly.”

I followed, but my mind remained in that secret space, wrestling with everything I’d learned.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Malakai

I was standing on the porch to the main cabin trying to work up the courage to go inside when a horn cleaved the night, quickly followed by a second.

Mila came charging out not a minute later, leathers in place, buckling on her weapon belt and sliding her swords across her back. It was the first time I saw her since storming out of training a few days prior, but she flew down the steps without acknowledging me, a predator homed in on her prey.

“What’s happening?” I asked, chasing her down the front steps. All throughout the town, warriors were stirring. Some ran from tents already outfitted, others helped comrades buckle on armor.

“There’s an attack,” she answered, not slowing her pace.

“What part of the line?” My blood pounded in my ears.

Around us, warriors rushed to attention. Orders were shouted. Horses saddled. This was only one of many battles they’d faced, but it was the first with this level of surprise since I’d arrived at camp.

“That horn came from the west and blew twice.” She spoke clinically. I recalled what Lyria had implied about how Mila had suffered during the last war. Maybe grounding herself with the facts was how she charged forward. “It means they’re rushing the western border and the battalion stationed there needs reinforcements.”

Mila finished tying off her braid with a leather band, flicking it over her shoulder where it nearly slapped me. “A new fucking tactic, I’ll give them that,” she added with a growl.

Outside the stables, Mila turned to me. “Find the prince and Dax. We need the general with us now.”

Before I could answer, she marched into the stables and began commanding her troops. “First charge—Mystiques, Soulguiders, and Starsearchers, with me. Archers to the ridges to relieve the lookouts.” The authority in her voice stole every warrior’s attention, despite their clan. Sharp nods responded, movements hurrying to fall into line.

“Searchers, do you have people in the temples?”

“Patrol turned over an hour ago,” Cyren confirmed. I hadn’t seen the Starsearcher General arrive, but they sat atop a lithe gold mare with an intricately braided mane. The horse was thinner than Mystique horses, but with sure footing, agile yet stable enough for their winding jungle roads. Damn, even the minor clans’ animals were accustomed to their magic.

Amara and Quilian were mounted on their horses beside Cyren, conferring with Mila, each of the generals bearing armor of their clans. The only one missing was?—

“Wait, what?” Find the prince and Dax. Mila’s earlier command finally caught up with me.

By the damned Spirits. I’d been evaluating myself and my behavior these past few days. While I didn’t have answers, I knew I needed to be a part of this army, on that battlefield, not turning pages in journals every night and wondering who would be here in the morning, even if I was still tormented by my memory.

I charged into the stables and stopped at Ombratta’s stall. She exhaled roughly, as if asking what had taken me so long. “Ready, my shadow horse?” It was a nickname I’d given her years before I’d left. One I hadn’t used since.

She nudged me at the familiar term.

“I’ll be right back,” I promised.

Tightening my gloves, I borrowed vambraces and a sword from the storage shed beside the stables. I hadn’t brought mine to see Mila tonight, assuming I’d return to my tent immediately after. Lesson learned—when in the war camp, always be prepared for battle.

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