(𝐊𝐀𝐙 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐊𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐅. 𝐎𝐂)
❝︎Why didn't he see
it coming?❞︎
BORN A PRISONER, TURNED INTO
one of the best soldiers of the Second
Army was Vera Sokolov, a Fjerdan
girl born with Shadow Sum...
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IT WAS INFURIATING, how much of her mind was taken by Kirigan. He was like the ghost that never went away, that had burnt the scar so deep it burnt into her bone, making her existence. She was forever connected to him. And it enraged her.
In a way, Kirigan had taken everything and nothing from her. Nothing, because she was gifted a life of luxury. A role as Second to the General, any jewel she could have wanted. And everything, because she never had the opportunity to decide who she would have been. Shoved into the form of a Second in Command, always to accept orders and send them out.
"You look like you've lost it," Zoya commented, looking at Vera who was glaring down at the table again, not conscious of the world around her. Not that anything was happening. Kaz had called for everyone to meet up at the Dreg's bar, but Jesper and the man himself hadn't shown up yet. They were bored waiting. Toyla and Zoya kept to themselves while Nina and Wylan spoke to the side of the bar.
Vera's voice was quiet but firm, "I want him dead."
At the jarring statement, Zoya and Toyla looked at each other with wide eyes, but then they turned back to Vera, "Who?" Zoya inquired.
Vera turned to Zoya slowly, tilting her head, "Who do you think?"
They both knew the answer. Kirigan.
Zoya nodded, raising her eyebrows, "I'm happy you are accepting your rage. You know...When we got here I was surprised to see you so composed after he kidnapped you the second time."
"I've been busy." Vera took a sip from her drink, "Can't have a crisis if you stay busy."
"You're on the verge of one." Zoya pointed out, a teasing but slightly concerned expression on her face.
"I'm not so busy now." Vera huffed, shaking her head as she looked over the empty bar, "He'd taken charge of my life since I was what? Ten? I've had no time to decide what I want. Who would I have been?" Vera mourned the person she could have been. And in a way, she mourned who she had become.
If her life had been less brutal if she hadn't been tortured and then shoved into the cookie cutter of an emotionless soldier, would she have been a better person? She desperately wanted to know.
She snapped back into reality, speaking before she could think, "I never saw you at the Little Palace..." Vera turned to Toyla who was standing next to her at the bar, "Why?"
