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She held her hand up. “You don’t have to have the answer this very moment. You don’t even have to tell me the answer when you figure it out if you don’t want. I just think maybe it’s a question you should ponder during a quiet moment, when you feel emotionally and mentally ready to concentrate on it.”
We stared at each other for a moment. Vanessa’s words rippled through me, bringing me to terms with the fact that these sessions were going to be a lot harder to navigate than I initially hoped.
Chapter Ten
My counseling continued on with typical conversation thatkeptme on edge for the rest of the appointment. Somehow, I wondered if it was a trick, trying to get me to admit something that I wasn’t ready to talk about. It all just seemed too easy, too relaxed, and that made my anxiety spike, sending my mind spinning for the rest of the morning.
Luckily, I got to spend the afternoon leading a training session for the new Omega and Fledgling trainees, which meant an excuse to beat my aggression out on Taylor and Lucas again. For educational purposes, of course.
An hour into it, a slick sheen of sweat covered my entire body, my skin no longer pin-prick sensitive. Thank the Goddess.
I hung back during the next round, sitting on one of the benches to observe the dozen trainees while they tried to recreate the weapon techniques we had just taught them. Taylor and Lucas wove in between each pair, correcting any mistakes or missteps. I took progress notes on each recruit, the stilo slippery between my sweat-coated fingers. Most of the recruits were doing a decent job for it being their first time working with the Amalgam Blade, the main weapon used in the Onyx Guard.
It wasn’t the only weapon that we were trained in. Everyone also had to do dagger handling and a few of us even went on to learn and master archery, along with a handful of non-fatal weapons when needed. However, it was the Amalgam that we were known for, just one more thing that made us stand out as an Onyx Guard soldier.
The double-sided weapon was a hybrid of a short sword and a switchblade. Two blades easily nestled into the forearm-length steel handle, each one triggered by an onyx stone button on either end. One blade was forged of pure silver, the weakness of the Varg Anwyns, and the other blade was carved from wood reinforced with a steel core, since Shrivikas were allergic to wood. These weapons were created specifically for the Onyx Guard, although some military units outside of the guard were known to train with them in case of emergencies, since it was one of the few weapons that could be used as protection against the three original species of Kazola.
I put my notebook down, picking up my sheathed Amalgam, twirling the handle between my hands. Like the rest of the team, this blade was my primary weapon, although I was the Archery Master on Compound and led all the bow and crossbow training. But I had been shooting and perfecting my abilities in that weapon since I was a teenager, and I was never allowed to handle an Amalgam until I had officially joined the Guard. The day I got to hold one for the first time was a memory I always cherished, as it was the moment I had finally made that dream of joining this unit a reality.
I loved the design, black carvings embossed on either side of the flattened hilt. The crest of the Onyx Guard was carved into one side, an entwined circle of tree roots and branches surrounding the Ogdala Blade, which was pierced through a crescent moon. On the opposite side was the Onyx Guard Motto in Ancient Kazalonian, the original language of the Isle before it mostly died out centuries ago.
Tsio a Chisain. Protect the Peace.
My thumb gently rubbed over the words, heart lurching. Some days I wondered if I was still worthy of that motto.Did I deserve to protect others when I felt incapable of protecting myself?
“Seems like a good team of recruits.” A voice pierced through my blackened thoughts, my body flinching away; I looked up, my shoulders deflating at the sight of Nolan looming over me. His eyes narrowed at me. “I’m sorry, did I scare you?”
“No!” I said a bit too quickly, my skin still prickling from his untimely arrival. “And yes, they’re doing fairly well.”
He sat down next to me, picking up my journal to make room. “Wow you take…detailed notes.”
“Give me that.” I yanked it from his grasp, closing it and clutching it close to my chest. “You know, in most parts of Kazola, it’s considered rude to read other people’s journals.”
He chuckled. “Isn’t it just notes you’ll put in their training reports later for me to review?”
My cheeks flared with warmth, fingers tightening around the leatherbound book. “Some of them, but not all. Only the ones that are necessary for the report.”
“Wouldn’t all training notes on recruits be necessary?” He gave me a questioning look, one eyebrow raised.
“Not necessarily,” I grumbled. “It’s…”
I didn’t know how to finish that sentence, how to explain exactly what was in this journal. Not every note I took was clear and cut on training. I also wrote about different things I noticed about each recruit, whether it be a sensitivity to a certain word or a particular touch aversion. After what I had gone through, I always tried my best to pick up on other people’s…tics. I wanted to make sure that when I was training them, when I had to be close, I didn’t accidentally breach any boundaries.I knew the terrible struggle when it came to speaking up about boundaries—that deep, aching fear that someone wouldn’t respect it, or worse, would laugh and belittle you for having them at all.
If this past year had taught me anything, it was that too many people had a lack of respect for others’ boundaries. That was why I did my best to show my complete respect.
Although I kept them out of official reports, since they were details not asked for, I did try my best to tell my observations to the other Hierarchy members for training purposes. However, I didn’t know Nolan well enough to give him such sensitive details. For all I knew, he would think they were utterly laughable, that the idea of boundaries was nothing more than an excuse for our recruits to slack off.
“Just stay out of my journal, please.” I slapped him in the arm with it, the smack echoing off the high glass ceiling.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stay out of the precious journal.” He rubbed his arm where I hit him, humor gleaming in his eyes. “Goddess, I barely read any of it. I don’t know why you think so little of me.”
My stomach tightened, but I didn’t have the strength to answer him with the truth. To explain that a part of me wanted nothing more than to fight against anything he said because I didn’t want an Alpha anymore. Not after last year.
I couldn’t let anyone control me again. I was in control of myself.
Before I could answer with a snarky comeback, conversations from the center of the room grew, the recruits starting to drift over to the storage areas, grabbing bottles of water and cloths to wipe their faces.
Lucas and Taylor walked over to us, their stances going rigid with proper salutes: a fist pound against the heart.
