Page 4 of Warrior's Reign
“The only failure is accepting defeat. This is your first hard lesson, it will not be your last.”
Her fists clenched. “And who should die next so I learn a lesson?”
“I didn’t say anyone had to die for you to learn your lesson.”
She shook her head, rubbing a hand over her face. “I need to go farm or something.”
He laughed. “You aren’t a farmer, Reign. If I thought that was the answer, I would have told you years ago. You’re a warrior,shujahneven before I sent you to Numar. Warriors accept death, but never defeat. Go back. Learn. Remember your dream—to becomeAdekhan.”
“My dream is dead.”
“But not your streak of melodrama.”
She stared at him, stunned by the flicker of contempt in his dry as brush tone.
“This isn’t the woman we raised.” He gave her one last, long look. “I will tell your mother you’re returning to the city to seek advanced training. I will inform Numar to expect you.”
Reign recalled that tone. She’d run smack into a rock-hard wall, and it was too tall to scale and too deep to burrow underneath. She had no choice.
Damn. She couldn’t even succeed at failure.
2
Reign sipped a pint of beer,sitting on the front porch and staring at the stars through the forest canopy. Benyon sat next to her, a piece of machinery between his legs Ma had assigned him to fix while she and Ashe put the smaller children to bed. Zoriah just wanted her mate out of the way—he ran bath time like it was a military exercise, and Ma thought it should be a relaxing cap to the evening. Since she didn’t mind him running dish duty like a military exercise, they often swapped evening tasks.
Her mother hadn’t been pleased when he’d told her Reign was leaving soon. Zoriah worried about the danger in Reign’s line of work, so nothing was new.
Her mouth curved in a bitter smile. Keeping herself alive was easy. She’d just slink off somewhere, avoiding the academy and her team. He wouldn’t know. She didn’t like lying, even by omission, but by the time he caught up to the fact she was working as a guard in a bank somewhere, it would be too late. At least no one would die because she’d been a fraction too slow.
Her wrist unit pinged. Reign glanced down, frowning. No one should have her current coordinates.Martha had taken care of that for her. The identification code flashing on the flat square screen wasn’t familiar.
“Are you going to answer that?” Benyon asked.
“No one should know I’m here.” The comm request cut off then resumed, coded as urgent.
This time the nondescript identifying code was now accompanied with a sigil. A royal sigil from neighboring Beysikai province.
She recognized that sigil. Glancing at Benyon, she said, “Accept comm. Audio only. Block tracking.”
A familiar face from an almost carefree time in her past snapped on screen.
“Reign! I’ve been trying to track you down for weeks.” The female paused, looking to the side as someone spoke. “Oh, we can’t trace you either. That’s good.” She appeared pleased. “Evvek traced your last known location to theKongur’aorakipass, but you went dark from there.”
Because that mountain range was one of the few places on Yedahn where satellite coverage was sketchy. And one of the places where she had a bug out shelter just in case.
Reign stared at the ethereally lovely blue face on the screen. “Ibu? Excuse me—BdakhunIbukay.”
The Beysikan princess waved a hand, impatient. “Where are you, Reign? I need you yesterday.”
“What?”
Reign glanced at Benyon, who looked interested but shrugged and said, “I’ll be inside if you need me.”
When the door shut and she was reasonably certain his ear wasn’t pressed against the panel—it wouldn’t be the first bad habit he’d picked up from his human and half-human children—Reign turned her attention back to her old university friend.
She hadn’t known Ibukay’s real identity at the time and had thought Tai’ri was Ibukay’s boyfriend. He was a member of her personal palace guard and he went with them everywhere. Reign had thought it odd at first but since he didn’t talk much, had gotten used to his presence.
“It’s been a few years,Bdakhun.”
