Page 34 of A Sweet Destruction

Hence, the flighty feeling in my chest.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ever let myself feel unsure, that ability brow-beaten out of me long before I ever stepped foot on this planet.

A good soldier, that made.

There was no room to mess up in the children’s home I’d grown up in, stuffed too full with abandoned kids. Though Vir dedicated a fair bit of resources to children, knowing the value of carrying for those who could not care for themselves, no amount of comfortable furnishings and warm meals and kind guardians could truly suppress the consequences of being an orphan.

Nor was there room when I’d been whisked away to boarding school at the ripe age of ten, after I’d slipped up and perfectly recited prose I’d read for the first time mere minutes prior in front of one of our teachers.

All concerns about my rearing were thrown out the window when they realized the tool I could become, shoving me into classes with people years older than me and left to survive by myself on campus when students would return to their families over breaks.

My value became crystal clear on my fifteenth birthday, when I’d been informed that I had been selected for a special opportunity. It was an inventive way of describing being drafted so that they could exploit my memory. At least they’d been honest about that part during my training.

They were sending me to Muli as their backup plan. Someone who could memorize sensitive documents without the risk of discovery. Complete with grueling training in manipulation and deception, I’d walked out of that center as prepared as they came.

And markedly unused to feeling like I didn’t know what to do. Standing here next to Ford while he stared at Officer Edeka in barely-masked threat, I certainly didn’t know how to fucking handle this.

I tried not to fidget, though that was what my mind was telling me to do, as I watched Peter whip together a group to escort Edeka back off our claimed territory. The kid looked seconds away from crying. The cynical side of me said that was exactly what Muli was trying to accomplish, sending a fawn into the fire so we’d hesitate before shooting.

The other side of me, the one that was slowly fighting its way back after years of suppression, saw Ford in that young soldier. A boy who was willing to enlist to protect his family.

What threatened to break my spirit was the understanding. Ford never wanted this. He was a pacifist that life had beaten into a sniper with several kills under his belt, all of which I knew haunted him.

It made sense that he would inherently reject everything tied to this war.

Even me. Even the Bond.

I couldn’t stay mad at him for that. But that was what made this situation all the worse, what had driven me to medication in the first place.

For all that understanding, it didn’t do anything to ease my pain. I still acknowledged the Bond, and it would punish me for anything less than finding total acceptance from Ford’s half.

Feeling that old trickle of buzzing pain start to crawl down my spine, I straightened my shoulders and promised to fight it.

For my sanity, and that of a man who would take the first chance to get away from this.

✦

This was harder than I remembered.

I’d forgotten the level of self control it took to keep the Bond under my thumb.

Five years. That’s a long time for me to be asleep. I missed so much. Ford is older. That’s good though. He seems healthy. You seem different. Why didn’t we sleep in our chair last night? We are much closer to him in that chair. Does it have to do with his scar?

Oh no, I thought to myself. Not the scar. I’d learned in a few short hours that caused the Bond to—

WHY HAVEN’T WE KILLED THE PERSON WHO HURT HIM?! The Bond shrieked like a petulant, murderous child. If you did it while I was asleep, I’m going to be very unhappy.

I was saving him for when you came back, I responded to the

Bond. Not entirely true, as the general who had tortured Ford wasn’t there when I’d rescued him and I had precious few moments to get him out of there, but I knew it would be enough to calm the Bond down.

For now.

The afternoon had only further devolved. Officer Edeka had run off into the sunset with a missive that we were accepting the meeting.

Soren had nearly lost his mind at seeing the Prince’s handwriting, remembering his last message that had asked for Bellamy’s hand in marriage. It had taken Bellamy pulling him off into a corner and speaking in hushed conversation for several minutes to get him to even blink.

He was so focused on Bellamy, a second wave of anger swept him out to sea when he realized who the Prince was offering up as security.