Page 100 of Black Wing and Shadows
The insignia on his uniform gleamed as if it had been polished precisely for this moment, and every line of his body screamed command. His eyes—cold, sharp, unyielding—locked on me.
“Cadet Blackcreek.” His voice carried perfectly, though he didn’t raise it. “Congratulations on your bond.”
My throat felt dry, but I forced myself to nod. “General.”
The weight of his gaze pressed down harder than any battle test. For a heartbeat, I thought—hoped—he might let the mask slip, let something human show through. But it didn’t.
“You’ve done well,” he said. Glaring at me, it sounded like a compliment, but I didn’t feel it. “Make sure you don’t waste what you’ve been given.”
Heat prickled behind my eyes, but I didn’t let him see it. “I won’t.”
He offered only a slight nod, more of a dismissive gesture than acknowledgment, then turned sharply to approach the officers waiting nearby. The tension in my chest eased only when I saw his back vanish into the crowd. I exhaled softly, realizing I had been holding my breath, and finally relaxed my shoulders.
Esme’s voice brushed faintly against my mind, low and curious.“He makes you ache.”
My laugh was soft, bitter.“Yes. Yes, he does.”
I remained standing there long after he disappeared into the crowd, the impact of his words still echoing vividly in my chest.
Make sure you don’t waste what you’ve been given.
He hadn’t always sounded like that.
Once, his voice had been warm. I could still hear it if I tried hard enough—the low rumble of his laugh when he swung me onto his shoulders, the way he used to hum, off-key and distracted, while fixing my wooden practice sword when I split it down the middle. Back then, his armor was just something that hung on a rack, smelling of leather and oil, not this constant barrier between us.
I remember running into his arms when he returned from patrols, how he would lift me effortlessly and say he missed me every day. On nights when Mother was away healing cadets and it was just us, he’d teach mehow to braid a rope, whistle through my teeth, and cheat at dice when no one looked.
He had been my whole world.
But at some point between my mom's death and now, he transformed into something different. A wall of steel and authority, with each word carefully chosen and every glance sharp. He still resembled my father, but every time his eyes met mine, it felt as though he’d forgotten how to truly see me.
My chest tightened as I pressed a hand over the brand beneath my tunic, the warmth of Esme’s bond a steadying presence. She stirred at the edges of my thoughts.
“He was yours once. Now he belongs to the weight he carries.”
I swallowed, blinking against the blur at the corners of my vision.“Yeah. I… I wish he hadn’t given all of himself away.”
For the first time since the ceremony ended, I let myself sit down on the edge of the field, elbows braced on my knees. Around me, cadets celebrated, laughed, mourned—but I stayed still, caught between the memory of a father who used to love me openly and the general who now stood like a stranger in his place.
The edges of the field blurred as memories pulled me backward, but I felt the shift before I actually heard him. Zane’s presence always carried heat—steady, grounding, like the earth itself refused to let me spiral too far.
“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, crouching down beside me. His golden hair caught what little light remained, his eyes searching my face. “The one where you look like you’re here, but your mind’s miles away.”
I huffed a shaky breath. “I was just… remembering. Before everything changed.”
He didn’t press. He never did. Instead, he eased down to sit beside me, one knee bent, his shoulder brushing mine. For a while, we stayed like that, silent in the afterglow of the ceremony, the stadium’s noise muted around us.
Finally, I spoke. “He wasn’t always like this, you know. Cold. Untouchable.” My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “He used to laugh with me. Teach me stupid things like rope knots and dice tricks. I’d wait at the door every time he came back from patrols because… he always picked me up like I was the only thing that mattered.”
Zane’s jaw worked, but he kept his voice low, careful. “Sounds like he traded that part of himself for the general’s title.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my thumb over the edge of the brand still sore beneath my tunic. “Or it has something to do with my mother’s death. I am still struggling to believe that he would hurt my mother.”
He finally turned, catching my gaze and holding it steady. “One day, you will get answers, but right now, you’ve got me. You’ve got Esme now. You’ve got your squad. That’s more than enough to keep moving forward.”
The words settled deep, chasing back some of the cold. I leaned into him without thinking, my temple brushing his shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe too hard, like he knew this was fragile and rare. I stayed there, letting his breathing bring me into sync, calming my stirring soul. I was still leaning into Zane when a sharp, familiar voice cut through the hum of cadets in the stadium.
“Auri!”
