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At this, Lyssa frowns. "Giving her a gun if he tries to break in here might not work out the way you think it will."
Rage rises hot and involuntary in my chest, and my response comes out more heated than I intend. "Of course it would! Shehateshim!"
She gives me a speculative look, reading my reaction too clearly. "No," she says softly. "Youhate him. The girl barely knows him. You want my advice?" She goes on before I can tell her no. "Stop mooning around. Fuck her if you want, but get that strategic mind of yours back in the game. We started this war for a goddamn reason. And if you're not careful, we'll lose it."
"Then stop needling me and go do your job!" I snarl.
Lyssa's eyes widen briefly at my vehemence before she smooths her expression. "As you say, Boss." She drains her glass, eyeing me thoughtfully. When she speaks again, her words are uncharacteristically gentle. "Just be careful, okay? I'd hate to see this girl become your undoing. Not after everything we've worked for."
She stands and leaves, while I continue rolling my empty glass between my palms, watching fractured light play across the crystal.
Lyssa means well, but there are some paths a ruler must walk alone. Aurora has awakened something dangerously alluring within me—something I both fear and ache for in equal measure.
But I cannot unmake my choices now…and nor would I wish to, because they've finally born fruit. I received a message earlier today that Nero wants to parley.
And that Papa has offered to mediate between us.
CHAPTER 15
Aurora
I wakeup to a curt knock at the door, completely unlike the way Angie or Mrs. Graves come in with my breakfast each morning—or rather, evening. Before I can sleepily respond, Lyssa barges in, dressed in her usual black leather pants and close-clinging black t-shirt.
"Wake up, little Suzy. Time to rise and shine and get your ass downstairs for training."
I sit up, pulling the blankets around me. "I thought Hadria was going to train me?"
Lyssa scoffs. "The Boss has more important things to do than play teacher. Now get dressed, unless you want me to drag your scrawny ass out of bed myself."
Disappointment wells up inside me, but I swallow it down and get up. I dress quickly and follow Lyssa down the long hallway. She doesn't speak, doesn't even glance back at me. But then, Lyssa has never made any effort to hide her disdain for my presence here.
In her eyes, I suppose I'm an interloper. An outsider. I don't belong here.
Well…we're in agreement there.
We descend to the underground shooting range. The muffled blasts of gunfire greet us. I'm not the only one here today. Lyssa hands me the earmuffs again and leads me into the sleek, concrete-walled space. Faceless paper targets stand at the far end, already riddled with holes from previous trainees. There are at least four of them still here, all men, all glancing over their shoulders at me as I passed, checking me out with expressions ranging from bewilderment to scorn.
Without preamble, Lyssa places a handgun in my palm—not the small, easily managed one Hadria allowed me to use yesterday, but something heavier, more substantial.
"Let's see if you can actually hit anything with a big girl gun, Suzy."
I want to snap at her not to call me that, but I focus on the task. The gun sits heavily in my hand, the grip unfamiliar. But as I raise my arms and stare down the barrel at the distant target, Hadria's lessons come back to me. Inhale, exhale, squeeze the trigger on the exhale.Don't yank. The sharp crack of the gunshot rings out, and a neat hole appears in the shoulder of the paper target, despite the harder recoil.
"Beginner's luck," Lyssa mutters. But I block her out, steadying my breath, recalling Hadria's guidance. I empty the gun, each shot landing closer to the bullseye in the chest, until the final one punches straight through its heart.
I lower the gun, unable to keep a small, satisfied smile from my lips. Lyssa says nothing, but her eyebrows lift ever so slightly. It's probably the closest I'll get to praise from her.
The morning passes in a blur of gun smoke and ringing shots. Lyssa pushes me hard, having me try different firearms, firing on the move, shooting while she attempts to distract me. I miss more than I hit, but find myself gaining confidence. There's something soothing about the repetitive motion, the focus it requires.
By eleven, Lyssa declares the shooting portion done. I feel a flicker of pride at having completed the grueling session without complaint. But it is quickly extinguished when Lyssa says our next stop is the gym.
I've never been what you'd call sporty, and the spacious gymnasium is a hive of activity. Men and a few women spar around the gym, their grunts and the dull smack of fists on flesh echoing off the concrete walls. Weights clank and treadmills whirr. These areallnew recruits, I realize. Hadria must be expanding her forces.
Their eyes follow me as I enter, raking over me with undisguised curiosity and contempt. They nudge each other, chuckling. I recognize the dismissal in their gazes from the trainees at the gun range this morning. I'm merely a girl, out of my depth. Anger bubbles up, especially when I see how deferential they are to Lyssa.
Lyssa gathers a group of recruits and leads us through some basic self-defense moves: how to block a strike, use an opponent's momentum against them, create space to allow escape. They're rudimentary but useful. She moves into a fewattack basics next, and we practice them along with her: straight punch, knee-kick, side-kick.
Then Lyssa announces I'll be sparring with one of the recruits. "Try not to embarrass yourself too much, Suzy," she says in an undertone.
