Author:
M.J. Swenson has been writing stories since elementary school and earned a B.A. in Creative Writing from the University of St. Thomas, Minnesota. Besides writing and reading, M.J. also enjoys playing music and video games.

I woke up feeling that something had changed.

I blinked twice, waiting for my eyes to adjust, and glanced at the clock beside my bed. It read 6:38, as it did every morning. I slid out of bed and moved to my dresser, where I opened the third drawer and pulled out a dark blue V-necked shirt with short sleeves and a dark blue pair of pants. I changed in front of the mirror and examined myself. I looked just as I had the last time I’d looked in the mirror: long, straight, dark brown hair; blue eyes; an absurdly straight and narrow nose; the slight scar at the edge of my eyebrow. The scar whose origin I still couldn’t remember.

Familiar Assassins

Thane was, of course, right - the barracks weren't the nicest place to sleep. But I had to face them. It was that or face Thane, something I didn't intend to do, especially at this time of night.


I sat on the threadbare blankets in my empty room for a few hours, watching rare shafts of moonlight filtering through the windows. I pulled my knees up to my chest and thought of what Thane had said after he'd revealed to me that we did, in fact, know each other.


I love you, he'd told me. And I'd asked him if I'd loved him back, but he had refused to tell me. He wanted me to know it for myself.


Chapter 37