Thorne
“She’ll have to go for it.”
Thorne shook his head. “No, no she won’t. Just because it makes sense to us, doesn’t mean it will make sense to her. Or that she’ll agree to it.” He frowned. “And you know what, I’m not even sure she has that sort of authority.”
Carla tilted her head sideways. “What do you mean?”
“Colonel Mara isn’t actually the commander of Fort Banner. She seems to have free rein of it, and to make decisions about personnel, like she did with you, which isn’t surprising after Vanek killed one of the Outsiders. She’s got to be riding pretty high in the eyes of her superiors just now. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s not in charge there. She commands Fort Stark, where we’re actually awakened. So she might agree with it, but she might not be able to make it happen.”
His mate cursed, running both hands through her barely finger-length hair in frustration. “Dammit. Right. Major Von Kamp is commander there. I always forget that, since he maintains such a low profile relative to Colonel Mara, who is always there with you or Kallore or another dragon.”
“We’ll have to convince both of them then, and that’s going to require some seriously well-thought-out battle plans.”
She snorted. “I’m a corporal, Thorne, not an officer. I execute the plans, I don’t make them. Not my job.”
He raised his hands helplessly. “The blue dragons are the strategists and organizers. If we had one of them here, they’d have something for us in a short order, I’m sure.”
Carla eyed him. “So what then are black dragons known for?”
“We’re practical jokers,” he admitted.
“You don’t fucking say,” she drawled, shaking her head in belated comprehension.
“I never said we’re perfect at it,” he protested.
“Wow. Just wow. You’re lucky I like you just a little bit. Otherwise I’d probably be out of here so fast!”
“It wasn’t supposed to get you in trouble,” he said, proclaiming his innocence.
“Uh-huh. I’m on to you now though,” she said, squinting at him and shaking a finger in his direction.
“Anyway,” he said, trying to get them back on topic.
It was an effort. Thorne had no interest whatsoever in being near the base as a general rule. He wasn’t born to fight, unlike some of his other dragon kin. That didn’t mean he couldn’t, but it just wasn’t in his blood like it was with the reds, or blues, or even the silvers. They were always ready to tackle a problem head-on with violence, though the silvers would often prefer to talk first, but they were unafraid of fighting.
He sneered mentally. Thorne wasn’t afraid of anything. Except dying, perhaps. He didn’t look forward to that one bit. Not now that he’d found Carla. Every instinct screamed at him to take her and run to somewhere peaceful and calm, where they could live together without the worry of war and possible death.
It wasn’t possible, however, because Carla had a sense of unwavering duty to her unit and to her fellow man. It should have irritated him, but the more he was around it, the more Thorne was coming to respect her for it. She was willing to put her life on the line because she felt it would give others a chance to live. There was something old-world noble about that cause. He wasn’t sure he shared it. She was the only one he would sacrifice himself for, though he hoped not to have to do that.
“We’ll think of something,” she said as the elevator doors slid open and someone knocked on the metal to announce their presence. “Hello?”
“Hi, you must be Carla.”
Thorne very carefully did not spin around to glare at the newcomer. What the hell was Corde doing here?
“I am, and you are?”
“Corde. I live upstairs.”
He watched the two of them shake hands. Corde was perfectly polite about it, but his vision kept drifting over Carla’s shoulder to where Thorne sat on the couch. There was still no recognition in Corde’s eyes, and Thorne breathed a silent sigh of relief. Now was not the time for that discussion.
Just another reason to get Carla and fly as far away from here as you can. If you stay near Corde, he’s going to figure it out at some point. When he does, you know it won’t be pretty.
No, it wouldn’t. But the one thing Thorne was less willing to do than back down from a challenge was abandon his mate. He wasn’t leaving with Carla, and there was simply no debating that point with himself or anyone else. Until she was ready to leave with him, he was staying. No matter what the cost to himself.
“This seems to have been delivered to us by accident,” Corde was saying. “We rarely check the mail, so I’m not sure how long it’s been sitting there, I’m sorry. But it’s addressed to you. So, here you go.”
He handed the envelope to her, while looking at Thorne. Carla finally picked up on the looks and glanced back at him. “Is something wrong?” she asked, stepping slightly to the side so that she wasn’t between the two of them.
Corde shook himself. “No. Sorry. Everything is okay. Sorry for not getting you the mail sooner.” He inclined his head toward her, and then stepped back into the elevator, his eyes never leaving Thorne.
“What the hell was that about?” his mate asked as she came over and flopped down next to him on the couch, just inside of arm’s reach.
“It’s a long story.”
“Making enemies with the neighbors already?”
He smiled. “What’s in the envelope?”
“No idea. Nobody I’m aware of knows to send anything to me here.” She flipped it over to reveal her name in typeface on the center, and the Central Defense Command logo in the upper left.
Thorne’s stomach tightened. This could not be good news.
Evidently Carla felt the same. “Why would they be sending me mail, Thorne?”
“I’m not sure.”
She slid a finger along the backside, tearing it open carefully and pulling free the contents. There were several pages folded together, with the top one being a letter addressed to her. Thorne started to read it, but before he could get very far Carla let out an angry screech that nearly deafened him.
“WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK IS THIS FUCKING BULLSHIT? I’M GOING TO STRING HIM UP BY HIS TINY LITTLE BALLS THAT COCKSUCKING PIMPLENOSED PIECE OF SNOT!”
Thorne wisely removed his arm from around her as she lunged to her feet, the letters falling to the ground. Although he was desperately curious as to what they contained, he felt like keeping an eye on Carla was the best course of action just then. She seemed…mad.
“IF THIS PUKESNORTING PUSSDRIPPING BAG OF COW SHIT THINKS I’M GOING TO LET HIM DO THIS, THEN HE’S GOING TO HAVE MY SHOE SO FAR UP HIS ASS HE’LL THINK IT’S INDIGESTION!”
Thorne blinked at her impressive command of invective. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, considering she’d been in the military for nigh on twelve years now. It would have been amusing to him if she hadn’t wheeled and stabbed a finger at him, gunmetal gray-blue orbs burning with an icy ferocity he’d never seen before.
“You.”
“Me?”
“This is your fault,” she hissed, her voice suddenly quiet, the lack of noise more intimidating than her earlier screaming.
“What, exactly, is my fault?” Thorne wasn’t physically afraid of her, but try as he might, he couldn’t think of just what the hell he’d done wrong this time. His mind played back all the events of the previous few days, but nothing came to him. In fact, he’d tried to do as right by her as absolutely possible. Where had he gone wrong?
“This,” she snarled, her face bunched up in anger. Reaching down she snatched up the top piece of paper and shoved it into his hands with such violence she nearly ripped it.
Thorne looked down, reading the lines carefully.
“I don’t understand,” he said after a moment. “Honorable Discharge? What is that?”
“That, you scaled scum-sucking shit-herder, is my termination papers. They scrubbed me from the military completely. Not just my unit, but all units. I’m a civilian.”
He recoiled at her choice words for him, before his own anger came alive. “They WHAT?!” he roared, the windows shaking from his bellow.
Carla shrank before him, her own fury instantly snuffed as he worked to calm his temper.
“Thorne,” she said. “Your skin.”
He looked down in surprise to see scales emerging from under his skin as his system responded to his anger. Hissing in surprise as the change started to come over him, Thorne closed his eyes and focused his mind.
Gradually his heart returned to a more normal rhythm, and the roar of blood in his ears diminished until he could hear properly again. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Carla. “I had absolutely nothing to do with this, you must believe me. I’ll freely admit I don’t like the idea of you in the military, and I wish you were out. But I would never, ever go so far as to try and force you into a course of action. You are my mate, Carla, and I hope one day to convince you of that. But if so, it will be by your own choice. Not mine.”
Her eyes warmed, but only briefly before glassing over with ice, disguising any emotion from within. “They really want me to be with you,” she said quietly.
“Yes.”
“But they’re taking away my family to do it,” she said. “This is against my will. Forcing me into something.”
Thorne carefully did not react to her tone, or how much it hurt to hear her imply that she didn’t want to be with him, that she would still rather go back to the military. He’d been told finding a mate amongst humans would be tedious, that it would require great patience, something that despite his long life span he possessed very little of. But Thorne had never thought it would be this bad.
He needed to go to her right now. To hold her, and tell her that they were going to make this right. That he would fix it for his mate. Every muscle in his body urged him to cross the distance between the two of them and do just that.
Which is precisely why he didn’t.
Carla didn’t need him right now. Hell, she blamed him for getting her into the situation in the first place. There seemed to be nothing at all he could do to help. So he tried to keep calm and prevent his own anger from making him make another mistake.
“If you hadn’t gotten me drunk and brought me into this plan, none of this would ever have happened.”
Thorne bit his lip so hard he drew blood.
“I could be back with my unit right now, but instead I’m here. With you.”
“You don’t mean that,” he said, unable to keep his silence.
“I don’t? How the hell do you know what I mean?”
“Because you could have gone back at any time you wanted, by simply owning up to everything and accepting a bit of punishment. But you didn’t. You stayed here because you like me. You enjoy being around me. If you want to blame someone, maybe you should blame yourself.”
Carla’s eyes frosted over as icy anger blossomed once more, her lids barely blinking as she tried to stare him down.
“Carla,” he started, trying to fix what he’d just said, but it was too late.
“No,” she said, her voice glacially calm. “You’re right. I should blame myself. It’s all me. It was always me. I got myself into this mess, and I’m going to get myself out of it. Just like I always have. Alone. Not depending on anyone but me.”
She whirled and disappeared into the bedroom. The door closed gently behind her, without slamming.
That was bad. Really bad.
You are so fucked.