Chapter 5 · Lethal Inspection

"Hold still," Ronin growled, pressing two fingers beneath my jaw. "If you keep pulling at it, you'll tear the skin open."

"Take your hand off me."

"Then stop bleeding on my coat."

I slapped his wrist away and caught the collar of my torn uniform before it slipped off my shoulder. The movement sent a hot sting through my neck. I sucked in a breath and glared at him.

The bite mark sat just below my ear, red and swollen against my skin. No scarf. No bandage. No time.

And outside the cell, boots were coming closer.

"How bad is it?" I whispered.

Ronin's eyes dropped to my throat. His face stayed hard, but his nostrils flared once.

"Bad enough that Kyle will smell it before he sees it."

"Great. That's helpful."

"You wanted honesty."

"I wanted you not to bite me like some rabid prison dog."

His hand closed around my wrist before I could shove him again. The metal bars behind me dug into my spine. He stepped in until his chest brushed mine, blocking the weak strip of light leaking through the cell door.

His body was hot. Too hot for the frozen stone room. His coat smelled like iron, smoke, and the sharp clean scent of the night beyond the walls. Under it, the mate bond pulled tight between us, a live wire buried beneath my skin.

I hated that my body noticed him before my brain did.

I hated even more that he knew it.

"You have thirty seconds," he said. "Cover the mark."

"With what? My good manners?"

"Your hair. Your collar. Your blood. I don't care."

"You don't care about much, do you?"

His thumb dragged once across the inside of my wrist. Not gentle. Not rough enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me that he could break my grip whenever he wanted.

"You're alive because I care exactly enough."

The words hit harder than they should have.

I yanked my wrist free. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm alive because I refuse to die in your academy."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Commander?" Kyle's voice carried down the stone passage. Calm. Almost bored. "Open the cell."

My stomach dropped.

Ronin turned his head toward the door.

I grabbed the torn edge of my uniform and tried to pull it over the bite. The fabric was stiff with dried blood and ripped from collar to shoulder. It barely covered my chest, let alone my neck.

"Move," I hissed.

"Where?"

"Anywhere that isn't standing in front of me."

"That would put you in front of Kyle."

"I can handle Kyle."

Ronin gave me a flat look. "You couldn't handle one medic's question ten minutes ago."

"I handled it fine."

"You called him a parasite."

"He was touching my ribs."

"He was checking whether you had internal bleeding."

"He enjoyed it."

The corner of Ronin's mouth tightened. "You notice too much."

"And you notice when I notice. That's worse."

Kyle's boots stopped outside the door.

The lock rattled.

Ronin moved before I could. One second I stood beside the narrow bunk. The next, his palm hit my shoulder and drove me backward behind the tall iron locker bolted to the wall.

My hip struck the metal edge.

Pain shot up my side.

"What the hell?" I gasped.

"Quiet."

"You just bruised the other side."

"Then stop moving."

He crowded me into the gap between the locker and the stone wall. His chest covered mine from the doorway. One arm braced above my head. The other wrapped around my waist, keeping my injured hip away from the metal.

His coat pressed against my cheek. I felt the hard line of his ribs through the fabric. His breath touched my hair.

The mate scent between us had already turned thick and dangerous. Warm skin. Blood. Him. Me. A smell that would expose us faster than any confession.

I pressed both hands against his chest.

"You need to get off me."

"Not unless you want Kyle to see your throat."

"He can see your throat too."

"Mine isn't bleeding."

"Your neck isn't the problem. Your whole body is a problem."

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

For one stupid second, neither of us moved.

The bond pulsed beneath my skin. My fingers curled against his chest before I could stop them. Heat bled through his shirt. His heartbeat stayed steady, but the muscle under my palms tightened.

He felt it.

Of course he did.

"Vira," he murmured.

"Don't say my name like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you own it."

His eyes lifted to mine. "I don't own your name."

"You tried to claim everything else."

His jaw flexed.

The lock clicked.

Ronin pressed closer. The front of his thigh settled between mine, not forcing me open, just taking away the space I needed to breathe. His thumb found the bruised curve of my hip.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Touch that spot again," I whispered, "and I'll break your nose."

"You can try."

"I will."

"You won't make a sound when I do."

"You keep dreaming, Commander."

The cell door opened.

Kyle stepped inside with a silver medical case in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Two guards waited behind him. Their rifles stayed lowered, but not by much.

His pale eyes moved over the bunk, the floor, the washbasin, and the narrow strip of space beside the locker.

Ronin didn't shift. His body hid me completely.

Kyle's expression changed by half an inch.

"Commander Varga," he said. "I didn't expect to find you here."

"Then your inspection is already disappointing."

"I was told an inmate escaped medical custody."

"You were told wrong."

Kyle shut the cell door behind him. The metal slammed hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling.

I felt Ronin's hand tighten around my waist.

Kyle looked at him. "The report says Vira Storm was brought back to this block after midnight. It also says she was injured."

"The report can read itself."

"I prefer to verify things personally."

"That is why everyone hates you."

Kyle's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Everyone hates you too, Commander. They just need more courage to say it."

Ronin's fingers dug into my hip.

The pain nearly made me gasp. I swallowed it and shoved my face harder against his chest.

His voice dropped. "Don't."

I felt the word against my hair.

I wanted to elbow him. I wanted to bite him. I wanted to grab the front of his shirt and drag his mouth down to mine just to punish him for making my body betray me.

Instead, I whispered, "You're hurting me."

His grip loosened by a fraction.

Kyle's flashlight swept across the floor.

It stopped on Ronin's boots.

The beam moved higher, catching the edge of his coat and the hand braced above my head. His knuckles were scraped. A dark smear marked one finger.

Kyle's brows lifted. "You fought someone."

"I train people who fight back."

"Inside an inmate's cell?"

"Do you have a point?"

"Several."

Kyle stepped closer.

Ronin shifted his shoulder, blocking the view of my face. The move rubbed his coat against my cheek. Heat climbed up my neck, gathering under the fresh bite.

Kyle tilted his head.

"Are you injured, Vira?" he asked.

I stared at the seam of Ronin's coat. "No."

"That was quick."

"You asked a simple question."

"And you gave a rehearsed answer."

"Maybe I'm tired of your questions."

"Maybe you're hiding something."

Ronin's chest rose against my hands.

I felt his warning before he spoke.

"Search the room," he said. "Stop interrogating the inmate."

Kyle's eyes sharpened. "You seem unusually protective of her."

"I'm protective of academy property."

"She isn't property."

"Then stop treating her like a specimen."

Kyle's gaze slid between them. "You brought her back from the restricted grounds without filing a report. You used your own quarters to treat her. Now you're standing in her cell during a surprise inspection. Should I assume this is all part of your normal command routine?"

"Assume whatever keeps you busy."

"I don't make assumptions. I collect proof."

Kyle turned toward the bunk and lifted the blanket with the end of his flashlight. He checked beneath it, then opened the small storage drawer beneath the bed.

Metal scraped against stone.

I kept my breathing shallow. Ronin's scent filled my nose. Every breath pulled more of him into me, and the bond responded with another hot twist low in my stomach.

His thumb moved against my bruised hip.

Once.

A warning.

Then harder.

I dug my nails into his chest.

"You are doing that on purpose," I breathed.

"You are about to make a noise."

"Then take your hand off me."

"No."

"You're enjoying this."

His mouth lowered near my ear. "You think I enjoy watching you suffer?"

"I think you enjoy having control."

"Those are not the same thing."

"With you, they are."

Kyle shut the drawer. "What did you say?"

My pulse slammed against my throat.

Ronin's thumb pressed into the bruise again, harder this time. Pain cut through the heat. My lips parted.

His other hand covered them.

Not gently.

His palm sealed over my mouth while his body pinned mine deeper into the narrow gap. His chest locked against my ribs. I felt the rough leather of his glove scrape my cheek as he moved his face beside mine.

"Breathe through your nose," he whispered. "Do not make a sound."

I glared up at him.

His eyes were inches away. Black in the low light. Focused. Ruthless.

I shoved at his wrist.

He caught both my hands and trapped them against his chest with one arm. The position forced my wrists beneath his chin. His breath warmed my forehead.

Kyle took another step.

The flashlight beam slid over the locker door.

"Commander," he said. "Move."

Ronin didn't.

"You heard me."

"I heard you."

"Then why are you still blocking the locker?"

"Because there is nothing behind it worth seeing."

"That isn't your call."

"In this cell, it is."

Kyle's voice lost its lazy edge. "I have authority to search any inmate space during a security breach."

"You have authority to check for contraband. You do not have authority to put your hands on my recruits."

"Your recruits?" Kyle repeated. "She was sentenced here as an exile. Her name is not on your training roster."

"It is now."

My eyes widened against his chest.

Ronin felt it and looked down.

I mouthed, What are you doing?

He answered without moving his hand from my mouth. "Saving you from your own temper."

I bit his palm.

His fingers tightened over my lips. A low sound vibrated through his chest. Not pain. Anger. Something hotter.

The bond snapped tight.

My knees weakened.

Ronin caught me before I slid down the wall. His arm locked around my waist and hauled me against him. The front of my uniform dragged over his belt buckle. My bare shoulder pressed to his throat.

For one breath, his pulse beat against my lips.

I could have bitten him there too.

I didn't.

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

Kyle's flashlight clicked against the metal locker.

"Open it," he said.

Ronin's face went still. "No."

"That wasn't a request."

"Then issue a formal order."

"Fine. Commander Ronin Varga, step away from the locker."

"Denied."

Kyle laughed once. "You think your rank makes you untouchable?"

"No. I know exactly what makes me untouchable."

"And what's that?"

Ronin glanced at the guards outside the door. "Your fear of what happens if I stop cooperating."

The guards exchanged a look.

Kyle's fingers tightened around the flashlight. "You are making this difficult."

"You came here to search a cell. Search it."

"You are standing in the way."

"Then search around me."

The beam moved again.

This time it slipped beneath the edge of his coat.

I felt the light touch my bare knee.

I stopped breathing.

Ronin shifted his coat lower, covering me. The movement dragged his thigh against mine. My body jerked before I could stop it.

His hand clamped over my mouth again.

"Easy," he breathed.

I stared at him, furious and shaking.

Kyle turned toward the washbasin. "There is blood on the floor."

"Mine," I said through Ronin's palm.

Kyle's head snapped back. "What was that?"

Ronin answered immediately. "She said she is fine."

"I heard a different word."

"Your hearing is worse than your bedside manner."

Kyle crouched beside the basin and dragged one gloved finger through the dark smear on the stone. He rubbed it between his fingertips, then raised it to his nose.

My blood had dried. The other scent hadn't.

The room felt too small for all three of us.

Kyle stood. "This isn't only human blood."

Ronin's arm tightened around me.

Kyle looked at the guards. "Seal the corridor. No one leaves this block."

One guard turned to obey.

Ronin's voice cut through the room. "Touch that door and I'll break your arm."

The guard froze.

Kyle smiled without warmth. "There he is. The executioner everyone warned me about."

"Don't test me."

"I'm not testing you. I'm testing her."

His flashlight rose toward the narrow gap between Ronin and the locker.

I felt the first bead of sweat slide from my temple. It tracked along the side of my face, slipped beneath the edge of my hair, and dropped toward the floor.

Ronin saw it.

His eyes flashed down.

I tried to turn my head, but his palm still covered my mouth. His thumb pressed against my cheek, holding me still. His body shielded the mark on my neck, but not the heat pouring off me.

The sweat fell.

It struck the stone beside his boot.

A tiny sound.

A wet tap.

Kyle's flashlight beam snapped down.

It froze on the fresh drop.

Nobody moved.

Kyle lowered his head, staring at the spot by Ronin's boot. Then his gaze traveled slowly up the length of Ronin's body, stopping at the arm wrapped around my waist.

Ronin's thumb dug into my bruised hip.

Pain burst through me. My eyes watered. His palm stayed locked over my mouth.

Kyle took one step closer.

"That isn't blood," he said.

Ronin's jaw hardened.

Kyle pointed the flashlight at the drop. "So tell me, Commander. Why is there fresh sweat beneath your boot, and why does it smell like a bond flare?"

Ronin didn't answer.

Kyle moved closer again, the light climbing from the stone to Ronin's coat, then toward the hand covering my mouth.

"Move away from the locker," Kyle said. "Now. Or I'll assume you're hiding the one thing this academy forbids you to touch—"

His beam caught the edge of my bare throat, and Kyle's eyes widened as he whispered, "A mating bite..."