Page 27 of Interion

I tossed my bag onto the couch and lay down on the living room rug. She got up and came over to me, flapping her wings in a cheerful greeting. Then she sprawled out beside me and stared at the bruise, tilting her head in silent inquiry.

“That's right, it's exactly who you're thinking of: the terrible general.”

Kiara snorted and lowered herself to lick me.

“No!” I exclaimed as I tried to escape the licks, but she covered my face in saliva with her leonine kisses. Her whiskers tickled my skin, and I started laughing while my fingers got lost in her white mane full of braids, trying to push her away. I didn't have enough strength to get free and ended up giving up.

“You say that as if I gave you a beating.”

Zion's voice echoed through the room, firm as thunder. Startled, I sat up abruptly, forgetting the state of my ribs, and received a twinge of pain in response.

Kiara bolted toward the back door, excited. My eyes followed her, and I saw Zion in the garden through the glass wall. His expression was cautious, as if he were sizing me up. Still, there was a note of amusement in his posture. From where I was, I could only see his silhouette bathed in moonlight. One hand was in his pocket, and the other held a water bottle.

I ran my hand over my face to wipe off the chimera's saliva.

“You allowed it. It's the same thing.”

“I allowed you to fight, but it seems you have a fetish for being a punching bag.” He tipped the bottle to his mouth. His gaze swept over me, analyzing my every reaction to the provocation.

I got up from the floor, ignoring the absurd pain.

“Why are you doing this?”

By the gods, just looking at him made my nerves go haywire.

“Doing what?” Zion asked, his chin raised toward the night sky.

“Being a trainer, changing the academy's rules… forcing us to hurt each other.”

He tilted his head, curious.

“You don't want to hurt them?”

“No!” I frowned, shocked. “Are you crazy? I don't want to hurt anyone.”

“Even knowing they want to hurt you?” His voice had a note of challenge and something else—perhaps irritation.

“Just because they're terrible doesn't mean I should be too.”

“So you'll be weak forever?”

“It's not weakness to avoid a fight.”

“But it is weakness to let them intimidate you.”

I stared at him, incredulous. Did the general know about the shitty days I'd been living at the academy? A shiver ran up my spine, and I swallowed hard. Even if he knew, I didn't want to talk about it—not with him.

“You didn't answer my question. Why did you become a trainer?”

“Because I have free time, because the academy needed it, and because I wanted to.”

“And it had nothing to do with me?”

“Sorry to inform you, but my life doesn't revolve around yours.” The man clenched his teeth, and I could see the muscle jumping in his jaw.

“It’s hard to believe that you come back, freak out over my performance, and then the very next day become my instructor.”

“Well, Lionel explained why I’m your trainer: there was no one else available. As for the freaking out, I think any military officer with a shred of discernment would see how bad you are and how much you need to improve to pass the final test.”