Page 16 of Cheating Fate

It struck me then that this was a test. While Zhara told me how possessive her twin brother could be, she never described him as a snotty little shit. My gut told me that he was trying to rile me up to assess how I handled disappointment and provocation.

“Hmm,” I said, grateful for the sense of peace this realization brought me. “You know, there are only so many delaying tactics that can be uses to keep us apart,” I said in the same controlled voice. “I’ve waited sixteen years. As disappointed as I feel, five more days is nothing.”

“You must pass basic training first,” Vahl challenged. “Should you not meet the requirements, you’ll be sent away in three days before she returns.”

“This time, you would be justified in finding me arrogant, but I can assure you that I will pass that test with flying colors,” I said smugly. “But tell me, how well did Zhara take the news of this impromptu mission? I suspect she wasn’t overly thrilled.”

To my shock, Rhadames replied with a challenge in his voice.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “It’s an honor to participate in a secret mission with the Sentinels.”

“I’m sure it is, when assigned because you’re deemed the most qualified,” I conceded. “But when used as a means to control, it doesn’t hold the same appeal.”

“No one controls my sister,” Rhadames countered sternly.

“Funny, from where I stand, that’s exactly what it looks like,” I retorted. “But it’s okay. Like I said, we’ve waited sixteen years to meet in person. No matter what obstacles anyone attempts to throw in our path, Zhara and I will be together.”

“You presume a lot, Braxian,” Vahl said harshly.

“Do I?” I asked with an exaggerated air of surprise. “Tell me, you who both can see auras, what does mine look like? I bet that it looks perfectly Attuned with your sister’s. Am I right, or am I right?”

Where Rhadames lowered his eyes and pressed his lips to hide a smile, Vahleryon clenched his teeth and clearly attempted to control his features not to scrunch his face.

“My arrogant self thought so,” I said smugly when neither answered. “Please give Zhara my regards when you see her. By the time she returns, I will have aced basic training.”

I nodded goodbye, then turned around to walk away. The brothers didn’t speak a word, but the glimmer of approval in Rhad’s eyes did something funny to me. It also erased any lingering doubt I might have had that this had been one of probably many tests. I wished Vahl’s expression could have revealed more about his own feelings regarding this first encounter. Zhara adored her twin. Forming a deep friendship with him would be vital to ensure a harmonious relationship with my mate.

After taking only a few steps towards the door, the sense of being observed by the brothers abruptly faded. I glanced over my shoulder to find the spot where they had been standing now vacant. My chest ached knowing that, in a single blink, they had gone back to where my mate currently was, potentially light years away from here.

My blood boiled with helpless rage. I wanted to shout at the unfairness of it all. Realizing that Ghan and Khel were both observing me from a distance, only fanned the flames of my anger. They probably witnessed the entire encounter, studying my reaction to an impromptu meeting they likely orchestrated. A part of me wanted to march over to them and give them a piece of my mind. However, the rational part of me knew better than to alienate them. For all my faults, I never intentionally engaged in a losing battle.

I skipped dinner and went to bed early. Anyway, I would be jetlagged for a while, so going to sleep now would help me adjust faster to this new time zone. Zhara wouldn’t be able to message me for the next five days. They forbade personal communications while on such missions to avoid the risk they could be intercepted and reveal their location to enemies.

With luck, she would try to reach me in my dreams like we used to do when we were younger. Sadly, as we grew older, it worked less and less. I suspected the fault lay with me.

But this was at least something to hold on to.

Chapter 4

Gavin

That night, despite my jet lag, sleep relentlessly eluded me. Nolar’s dying-engine snoring didn’t help the situation. To be fair, ear plugs did wonders silencing his ruckus. My mind simply refused to rest. I couldn’t even blame the narrow cots and their thin mattresses. With my size and mass, I expected it to feel cramped and quite hard. To my surprise, our beds turned out to be unexpectedly comfortable.

That still didn’t help me take a deep dive into dreamland.

Annoyed, I decided to go to the gym. Physical exertion always helped with insomnia. In this instance, it would also provide an outlet to vent the bottled-up frustration—not to say anger—that continued to rage inside me over the unfairness of this situation.

To my delight, the place was completely empty. Considering the late hour, it was to be expected. The Xelixian trainer sitting at the entrance desk lifted his head from the data pad he’d been browsing on to glance at me. I nodded at him and shook my head in response to his unspoken question when he raised his eyebrow inquisitively. I didn’t need assistance. Beyond the fact that Sohr and Yhan did a thorough job of explaining how to operate the systems, I worked with comparable simulators in the past, so they presented no challenge for me.

My footsteps echoed loudly in the vast space. It seemed to maliciously underline my loneliness. Another wave of anger surged within me. I should be with my Zhara right now instead of preparing to crack some virtual skulls.

And crack them I would.

I placed the pain nodules on the strategic locations on my body. They looked like small, circular patches that would release an electric discharge at the spots where my opponents managed to inflict a wound. The intensity of the discharge would be proportional to the severity of the virtual injury. Naturally, safety mechanisms would kick in and end the simulation if the trainee got overwhelmed and was getting slaughtered. The goal wasn’t to electrocute us.

I chose a sword for the combat simulation I selected. Blasters made killing too easy, and therefore not satisfying enough. I wanted to inflict pain. I initiated the simulation. Low-level enemies appeared on the field at various locations around the ten-meter radius of the instance. Within the first couple of minutes, I quadrupled the difficulty, annoyed by the slow trickle before they rushed me.

My aggravation cranked up another notch at the sheer incompetence of their attacks. I realized these were the first modules that would increase in difficulty over time, but I wanted a real challenge now. For a split second, I considered overriding the program to force it to skip ahead to a worthy challenge. The only thing that held me back was knowing that they would look at my records, even though the final difficulty setting for any given module would be the one considered for my final score. I didn’t want to give them any excuse to label me as arrogant and overconfident. They would have no grounds to find me at fault or lacking.