Page 159 of The Incendiary

Last night, I needed him to care. So today, I ignored him.

“Fera, please.” With a resigned sigh, Elias gripped my elbow again and dragged me aside. When he noticed me flinching at his grip, he pulled back. “I didn’t handle what happened as well as I should have. I owe you an apology for that.”

What happened.

The phrase echoed in my mind. He didn’t even know what happened, though he spoke of it like he had a right to.

“I’m sorry,” he implored, searching my face. “Come on.” He reached for my hand. I jerked it away. “Fera, please talk to me. I fucked up, all right?” His voice dropped low to ensure only I could hear him. Because gods forbid he allow anyone else to witness his humility. “What I said about you not being careful enough…”

My fingers white-knuckled around the cloth I was wrapping my hands with.

“It was wrong, and I am sorry.” He shifted to get me to look at him, his voice lowering. “You were right.”

I froze outwardly, but my stomach dropped.

“As soon as I left the infirmary last night, I went looking for Gerard and the others. They’re gone, just as you said they’d be. I sent soldiers after them, but… regardless, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Once they’re found, they’ll truly be punished. I’m sorry,” he said again, “but last night, all I could think about was that they killed the B⁠—”

“Stop!” I croaked, biting my tongue to keep from cursing at him. “Just stop,” I repeated, hoping that if I gave him an answer he’d leave me alone. “I hear you.” Then, I nodded toward the mat. “But I have sparring to do.”

“Don’t you think you should take a day or two?” He winced at my heated scowl. “We’ll move you into a fully private room while you heal. Whatever you need.”

Oh, now he cared about what I needed.

“Put me on the mat,” I finally said.

“What?” His eyes shot wide. “You can barely walk.”

“Believe me, I’ve been in worse shape.” At least, my body had been, because not much was physically worse than having your organs ripped out. “Let me spar.”

He glanced at the horde of adversaries eyeing my bruised body like a fresh punching bag. His jaw twitched. “Absolutely not.”

“Commander, I am asking⁠—”

“You could die.”

“They haven’t killed me yet.”

“And now you’re hurt, and you’re tired!” he hissed. “Today, they could kill you, despite my rules, and I won’t risk it.” He shifted closer, the back of his hand brushing against mine. “Fera, I know I fucked up, but I’m not going to pretend that you don’t matter to me far more than I exp⁠—”

“You say you’re sorry,” I cut him off and jerked away, unwilling to listen to another word. “You want to make it up to me?” I twisted my ratty hair into a messy bun with aching, trembling fingers. He flinched as his eyes raked over the bruises painting my wrists and forearms. “Then put me on the mat.”

He shook his head, more resolute than I’d ever seen him. “No. You need to rest and⁠—”

“Put. Me. On. The. Fucking. Mat!” I snarled.

He searched my face. For a weak spot in my resolve, maybe. He wouldn’t find one. I didn’t feel like I had much to lose today.

“Fine.” He shrugged off the jacket of his leathers and unsheathed his sword and daggers from his belt. “Let’s go.”

“What?”

“You want to fight, Fera? Let’s fight.”

“I don’t want to fight you,” I sneered.

“Tough shit,” he snapped back. “It’s me or no one.”

Wanting someone to hurt was uncharacteristic of me. I didn’t usually have that kind of bloodlust. I hadn’t decided if that made me weak or not. Today though, as I looked into Elias’s all-too-beautiful eyes, I knew I wanted to make him hurt. I wanted him to feel even a fraction of what I felt last night.