Wild and Out of Control

|chapter twenty eight|

"For valor above and beyond the call of duty in the battle of Strythmore, where her bravery resulted not only in the destruction of a battery behind enemy lines but also saved the lives of an entire company of infantry, I recommend Mira Sorrengail receive the Star of Navarre.
But if the criterion is not met, which I assure you it has been, downgrading to the Order of the Talon would be a shame, but sufficient."

- RECOMMENDATION FOR AWARD FROM MAJOR POTSDAM TO GENERAL SORRENGAIL

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|danica|

"So all we do is wait for something to happen?" Ridoc asks the next afternoon, leaning back in his chair and putting his boots on the end of the wooden table that runs the length of the briefing room.

     "Yes," Mira says from the head of the table, then flicks her wrist and sends Ridoc flying backward. "And keep your feet off the table"

     One of the Montserrat riders laughs, changing the markers on the large map that consumes the only stone wall in the curved, windowed room. This is the highest turret in the outpost, offering unmatched views of the Esben mountain range around us.

     We've been split into two groups for the day. Rhiannon, Sawyer, Cianna, Nadine, Emery, Quinn, and Heaton spent the morning with Devera in this room, studying previous battles at the outpost, and are now out on patrol. Aetos, Ridoc, Liam, Imogen, Violet and I spent the morning on a two-hour flight around the surrounding area, with one extra tagalong—Riorson. He's been the worst kind of distraction since arriving last night.

     Aetos won't stop glaring at him and making snide remarks—to which I either make snide remarks back or smack him discreetly. Mira keeps one eye on him at all times as well, suspiciously quiet since last night.

     And me? I can't seem to keep my eyes to myself. There's a palpable energy in every room he enters, and it brushes over my skin like a caress each time our eyes meet. Even now, I'm aware of every breath he takes as he sits next to me midway down the table. I wouldn't have preferred it, even wanting Imogen to sit there instead of him, but like the raging bull he is, he entered the room and sat right next to me without even asking.

     "Consider this your Battle Brief," Mira continues, side-eyeing Ridoc as he scrambles back into his chair. He glances at me and winks, and I feel Riorson stiffen next to me. Which is weird. "This morning was about a quarter of the patrol we'd regularly fly, so normally we'd just be getting back about now and reporting our findings to the commander. But for the sake of killing time, since we're in this room as the reaction flight for this afternoon, let's pretend  we'd come across a newly fortified enemy outpost crossing our border"—she turns to the map and sticks a pin with a small crimson flag near one of the peaks about two miles from the Cygnisen borderline—"here."

     "We're supposed to pretend it just popped up overnight?" Emery asks, openly skeptical.

     "For the sake of argument, third-year." Mira narrows her eyes on him, and he sits up a little straighter.

     "I like this game," another one of the Montserrat riders says from the end of the table, lacing his fingers behind his neck.

     "What would our objective be?" Mira glances around the table, noticeably skipping Riorson. Last night, when Ridoc and I entered the outpost with Riorson behind us, she'd taken one look at the rebellion relic on his neck and walked by without saving a word. "Aetos?"