by LC Morgans
“Oh, no. What happened?” she asked, and stepped over the threshold into her room. Kyra didn’t object at the intrusion, and flung herself back down onto the bed with a sob.
“I came sixth,” she told her through gritted teeth, and began to cry harder. Brona didn’t ask any more questions. She knew exactly what that placing meant, and simply laid down on the bed to hug her friend; while she let out the pain there was no hope of hiding. She wrapped Kyra in her arms and held her tight, and didn’t let go. Kyra was so grateful that Brona wasn’t firing questions at her or demanding to know what'd happened. She was simply there, and it was exactly what she needed while she let the pain consume her.
***
The next morning, and after just a small amount of fretful sleep, Kyra got washed and dressed in sad silence. Under the watchful eye of her best friend, she tried her best to pull herself together, but was clearly failing miserably.
“Do you want me to get Silas?” Brona asked, and she seemed surprised when Kyra shook her head no.
“We’re over, B. There’s nothing there for me anymore,” she answered, and turned to the mirror again so that she could finish tying up her hair. “And no, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Okay, but you know I'm here whenever you do,” she promised, and Kyra nodded. She took a deep breath and sighed.
“I’ll be fine, but I need to make it through this morning and get away from here. Thank goodness for summer leave. Whatever role Psy wants me to take when we get back, I’ll just have to accept it,” she replied, and stood to give herself the once over. She’d gotten ready in a daze, working on autopilot, and was surprised to find she was actually quite presentable—if you didn’t count the split and swollen lip.
Kyra knocked and entered Lt. Psy’s office a short while later, and shut the door behind her before saluting him and taking a seat. He was clearly dismayed at her score, but was a combination of regret and warmth as he watched her with both a scowl and a soft gaze.
“We didn’t quite get you there, did we?” he asked, looking down at a file she assumed held her records. She knew her two recommendation letters must be in there, and hated that she’d only just missed out on a third because of Silas and his selfish actions. “I’m keeping these, though.” His gaze snapped back up to meet hers. “Come back after leave and take your place in the training program as a Junior Commander. You'll be assigned a role in the Intelligence Division training program, and eventually we can talk again about getting you a place in the elite training.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me, and can assure I did everything I could to get the best placing possible yesterday. I’ve let us both down by failing, and I’ll never let it happen again.” She stood and saluted, and left before her trembling lip gave way and the tears she’d hoped had dried began to fall again.
“Sergeant Millan,” a deep voice called when she was out in the corridor, and she turned to greet its owner with an obligatory salute. “Commiserations, I had hoped you'd make the elite program’s next intake, but perhaps next time you'll be ready,” Sentinel Gron told her, and she forced herself to smile.
“Thank you, sir. I intend to come back fighting, but for now I’m just ready to get away and clear my head,” she answered honestly. He reached out and touched her bruised lip gently, and she watched as his brow furrowed. “It seems I’m not the code-breaker I thought I was. But I learned a valuable lesson, though.”
“You didn’t head north with the rest of them?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
“No. I went around after spotting some crude markings on a tree, but I was wrong and still encountered a rebel.” He nodded and stepped back, dropping his hand to his side.
“Enjoy your leave, Sergeant,” Gron told her, and she saluted before he turned and walked away without another word.
Kyra packed up her things and headed to the gates of Fort Angel, where the various buses sat waiting for the soldiers to board. She wasn’t sure where she was even going this time around, and sadness panged in her gut at the realization.
Silas was waiting beside a bus that read ‘Manhattan,’ and she almost resisted going to see him, but when their gazes locked, she knew it would be impossible.
“Will you come with me? We can talk, sort things out…” he asked when she neared the bus, but Kyra ignored him. She walked around behind it in search of some privacy, and Silas followed like she knew he would. When they had far fewer eyes on them, she stopped, turned and scowled up at him. “I’m sorry,” he said, clutching his chest with his hand. “I was so terrified of letting you go, but now you’re staying and we can make a go of it again. Let me show you how much I care about you. I love you, Kyra. Please let me show you how much. Come to New York and we’ll get married. Let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you…”
She stood in shock for a few seconds, opening and closing her mouth while Silas stood waiting patiently for her answer. His words were still settling in, and his strange attempt at a guilt-ridden proposal just made her angry. It wasn’t romantic in the slightest, and she knew he just wanted to control and own her; it was the only reason why he wanted her to be his wife. That way, she’d never be free, and he was a fool if he ever took her as weak enough to accept.
Kyra curled her fist and hit him as hard as she could straight in the cheekbone. She didn’t want the hassle of dealing with a bloody nose, so had struck the side of his face instead.
“Don’t talk to me ever again. Don’t even look at me again. We are more than over, Silas. We’re dead, and you killed us.” She stormed away before he could reply or speak, and had the biggest grin on her face. Kyra took a deep breath, boarded the bus to Los Angeles, and watched as he stumbled into the Manhattan bus with his face buried in his hands. She spoke to no one, and held her head high, despite trembling in fear of the unknown that lay ahead. No matter what though, she was proud for standing up to him. Being alone was better than being with a man so desperate to keep her under his control that he was willing to sabotage her career in order to do so, and the journey back to L.A was long and lonely, but also a very freeing one.
Chapter
Fifteen
Kyra checked her credits in the machine on the wall outside the terminal building, and was astounded yet again at just how many she’d managed to build up over the past three years of service with the Human Royal Armed Forces. There was no time or need to enjoy her wealth, for it still felt very surreal, and all she wanted was somewhere quiet to hide away for the next two weeks to clear her head. She then headed straight for the nearest travel information desk, and spoke with a middle-aged woman behind the counter.
“I’d like to find a room to rent, please,” she asked, and judging by the woman’s reaction, she wasn’t the first homeless soldier she’d dealt with in her time behind that desk. Kyra guessed she normally might deal with businesses or upper-class humans, rather than beaten and exhausted young women, but her kind smile said she understood that soldiers often weren’t keen on going back to their old homes during summer leave.
“There aren’t many places available, I’m afraid,” the lady replied, and began searching her computer for options. “We normally book these further in advance, did your plans change suddenly?”
“Something like that,” Kyra replied with a frown. “Breakup,” she added when the woman’s stare didn’t let up.
“Ah, I see. Well, we do have a few basic rooms for rent in the lower-class areas?” Kyra shook her head, there was absolutely no way. She would rather spend double the credits and stay somewhere better, even if it meant travelling to another city in order to get a place. “Okay, well how about a room at The Crowned King in the city center? It’s just over one-hundred credits per night, but that includes all the food and board.”
“Yes, that sounds lovely. Thank you,” Kyra answered, and she passed her wrist over the electronic reader beside the desk.
“Your bill will be settled at the end of your stay,
but I see you’ve plenty so you needn’t worry. Enjoy your break,” she told her, and Kyra accepted the reservation details with a smile. She thanked the woman and followed the directions through the city to the hotel. When she arrived, it felt almost unreal. She’d never seen anything like it, and gasped at the fantastical luxury and elegant style she’d somehow managed to get a room in. She couldn't wait to get out of her combats, but at the same time the thought of wearing her only civilian outfits wasn’t entirely welcome either. Those clothes reminded her of Silas, so she promised herself she’d find a clothing store as soon as she’d gotten checked in.
“Welcome to The Crowned King, Sergeant Millan,” said the doorman after she’d swiped her arm over a device in his hand that read her microchip. He knew her name from the small screen that confirmed her reservation, and welcomed her in like an old friend. She wanted to play it cool, but wasn’t used to such service, and fumbled over her response. The man just smiled sweetly and directed her to the desk, where she checked in properly and took her key. A young woman then escorted her up to her room, and even opened the door with a flourish of whimsy. Kyra giggled and followed her inside, and then had to hide her surprise at the stunning luxury of the room. A huge bed was in the center of it, draped in crisp white cotton and numerous pillows and cushions. Heavy drapes gave the room some privacy, and a bathroom the size of her bedroom back on the base, was to her left.
“Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served downstairs in the restaurant. Timings and the menu can be found in your brochure,” the woman indicated to the desk where a few leaflets had been delicately arranged for the visitor’s use. “We have numerous services available during your stay. Downstairs is a bar and relaxation area if you’d like to unwind in the company of the other patrons. We also have a tailor on-hand if you would like to purchase any clothes, and a hairdresser for any personal needs. Please call the desk to make any bookings.”
Kyra thanked her, accepted the key back from the woman, and then locked the door behind her—just to be safe. No matter what, she was still uneasy and wanted to be sure Silas couldn't track her down and come inside. Thanks to the setbacks in both her personal and professional life, Kyra was desperate for some solitude in order to get her head straight, and her career back on track. She ran a deep bath, complete with far too many bubbles, ditched her glasses, and climbed in. It'd been so long since she’d had a soak that it took her a while for her to settle amidst the hot water, but soon she was drifting in and out of sleep, while images of King Kronus filled her head. He was a welcome sight, and put out his hand to help get her free from the thorns, but then he changed and turned into Silas. He grabbed her roughly, and pushed her down onto the ground before binding her wrists in a rope.
“You're mine now, Kyra. Always and forever,” he whispered into her ear as he climbed over her. Everything turned black, and she was somehow in a cage with Silas standing over her. His eyes looked black in the darkness, and she cowered in fear before him. “There’s no escape this time, and no one will find you.”
Kyra woke up screaming. She coughed as a wisp of bubbles caught in her throat, and began sobbing into her hands. It wasn’t long at all before those sobs turned into full-blown wracks of terrified tears, and she clambered out of the bath in a rush. She wrapped herself in the hotel robe and climbed into bed, where she continued to cry over every last ounce of pain and hurt she’d been trying so desperately to overcome. Silas had betrayed her, pure and simple. He had acted selfishly and purposely sabotaged her exercise to try and keep her under his control, and there would never be a world in which they could overcome such selfish treachery.
Kyra was determined to pull herself together by the time she went back to Fort Angel in just under two weeks time, though. She had to show him he’d lost. Silas might’ve succeeded in halting her progression into the elite program, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her anything other than focused and fighting. She also promised herself she’d prove to Lt. Psy she deserved that recommendation letter regardless, and when she dragged her sorry ass out of bed hours later, she set about planning how she might do it.
After wandering around her room in a thoughtful daze for a while, Kyra got dressed and headed down to the lobby. There she booked in with the hairdresser and tailor for the following day, and had some dinner in the huge dining room. There were many other guests there too, but she wasn’t in the mood for chitchat, so kept her head down and her focus on the delicious meal. Afterwards, she had every intention of going to the computer suite to look into which roles she might like to pursue in the rank of Sergeant for the Intelligence Division, when Kyra spotted the bar. There’d never been much of an opportunity to drink in the past, but now she welcomed the chance to drown some of her sorrows, and vowed she’d go to the computer suite the following day.
“A beer, please,” she ordered, and the barman smiled kindly as he poured the drink. She swiped her hand over the chip-reader on the counter, and he nodded when her details came up on the screen in his hand.
“First one’s on me,” he said as he put the frothy drink down before her with a smile. “I’m guessing it’s time for summer leave at your base?”
“Sure is, and thanks,” Kyra replied, taking a sip. It tasted good, but also reminded her of hot days spent drinking cool lagers with Silas in the Hawaiian sunshine, and she had to stifle a shudder. “I’m Kyra by the way.” She reached out her hand, and he shook it.
“Blue,” he replied, and she was clearly looking confused. He laughed. “It’s my nickname,” Blue added with a smile. “Mind if I ask why you’re here all alone, Kyra?” His expression turned serious.
“Well, I kinda do…” he held up his hands as if to say he understood if she’d rather not answer, but she decided to anyway. “I broke up with my boyfriend this morning, so needed to make new arrangements. This hotel seemed like a nice place to hide away for a week or so until I go back to work, and luckily there was a room available.”
“Nothing to do with that split-lip you're sporting, is he?” Blue’s gentle expression suddenly turned fierce, and his protective tone surprised her. They’d only just met, yet he seemed genuinely concerned for her, and it felt odd to find such a kind-hearted soul so ready to care about her troubles.
“It might do, but believe me I got him back just as bad—if not worse,” she replied with a forced smile. Blue laughed off his dark mood, and went back to wiping down the quiet bar.
“Good to hear it,” he told her. “I’d expect nothing less from an army-chick anyway.” He then gave her a wink and moved down the bar to serve some new customers, while Kyra took her beer and found a seat where she could watch out the window at the passers by. She didn’t know what was going to happen when she went back to Fort Angel, but nothing was set in stone. The future was uncertain, and she just hoped once she settled back into a regimented routine at the base, she’d get used to whatever role Lt. Psy decided was right for her.
The drinks went down far too easily, and before she knew it Blue was getting ready to close the bar for the night.
“Care to join me for something stronger?” he offered Kyra a shot of whiskey, and she accepted it. The beer had given her a nice buzz, and she hoped the liquor would provide the perfect nightcap. She downed it, and he did the same with his, before pouring them another. “Wanna come to a late-night place down the street for a few more?” he asked, and she immediately knew he was after a little more than a couple extra drinks.
“I’m not looking for a rebound fling, Blue,” she answered, and stumbled towards the doorway to the bar. “Thanks, though.” As much as she was trying not to act all girly, the small bit of attention was flattering, and Kyra had to smile. While he didn’t fight her refusal, it seemed Blue couldn't help from calling over to where she stood waiting for the elevator.
“Maybe a drink tomorrow then?”
“Maybe.”
***
The next day, Kyra was measured for her new clothes, and then
sat down in the chair in wait for the hairdresser she’d made an appointment with. Her long, dark hair was falling in waves around her shoulders and almost as far down as her waist, but she felt brave enough to ask for something very different.
“Hello, Sergeant Millan. I’m Deidra and I’ll be your stylist today,” a middle-aged woman told her after greeting her warmly. She then began running her hands through Kyra’s hair thoughtfully. “What were you hoping to have done?”
“I’m contemplating chopping it all off, what do you think?” she replied, thinking she was definitely ready for a new look.
Deidra’s eyes widened, and a look of excitement swept over her face.
“A bob would suit you perfectly. I’ll shape it around your face and cut it high at the back. When it grows, you’ll have a good few months until it hits your shoulders and you’ll need it cutting again. How does that sound?”
“Perfect, let’s do it,” Kyra answered, and her stylist quickly got to work. She was pampered and made a fuss over the entire time, and when the hairdo was complete, she gasped at her reflection in the mirror. “It’s amazing! Thank you so much,” she told Deidra with a wide smile, and even hugged her once she’d finished saying her goodbyes. She swung by the tailor on her way back upstairs, and was pleased to see he was finished with her outfits. The portly old man insisted she try everything on, and she felt amazing in the new dresses he’d hand woven especially for her. Even the pants and shirts were the perfect fit, and she walked away a new woman. The renewed and revitalized Kyra Millan was slowly coming out, and she liked how it felt to reinvent herself.