Chapter 18

A sword clattered to the ground followed by an overzealous whop.

"You did it, Keegan!"

Looking over his shoulder, Micah calmly surveyed the pair of exuberant Igni students. Keegan stood victoriously across from Aiden, the latter not appearing crestfallen over his defeat. Instead, his grin nearly cracked his face into two. True pride. Micah found himself mirroring the sentiment, appraising Keegan fondly. The boy finally did it. Granted, Keegan was drenched with sweat and appeared as if he'd just overexerted himself, but that was a familiar sight these past few weeks.

Keegan was determined. His determination paid off, it seemed. Micah's earlier uncertainties about his overenthusiastic claim that he'd improve his swordsmanship abilities had since quelled. Evidently, he shouldn't have been concerned. Everything worked out in the end.

"You'll be good enough to beat Micah and Kai in no time!"

"Doubtful," Kai muttered quietly.

Micah turned away from Keegan to level an unimpressed look at Kai. The young man simply shrugged in turn, continuing to polish his sword petulantly. He could not hide the way he kept glancing ever so often at Keegan as the two Igni cadets resumed sparring. Blond brows furrowed doubtfully.

"He's come a long way," Micah stated.

Kai grimaced. "I suppose."

"What's the matter, Edlen?" he inquired slyly. "Intimidated?"

The Unda man simply laughed. Bitterly. "Of what?" Grabbing the polish from Micah, he reapplied more on his rag. "He's already screamed his intentions loud and clear. To all of us. He wants to be your right-hand man in battle. Considering I'm leaving in a few weeks, he should find the position vacant and ready just in time."

Micah hummed low in his throat as he detected the very faint echoes of jealousy. As he finished cleaning his own sword, he swung a leg over the bench and straddled it, watching the team practice together.

They'd come a long way in the past several weeks.

They all had.

He marveled once again over Keegan. The entire team showed progress, but Keegan demonstrated particularly large strides. Micah could hardly comprehend the boy's steadfast commitment and progress. Not only was he taking dueling lessons with Instructor Candace and the other first-year cadets, but he also dueled frequently with other students in his free time.

With his incredible progress came a renowned sense of confidence. Micah could see Keegan's evolution of self-importance. Now that he could prove himself with the sword, the other man finally felt as if he should be a member of the team.

"So you're still planning on leaving us?" Micah inquired distantly, surveying the team.

Kai's jaw clenched and he focused on working a particularly stubborn mark on his blade. He rolled the rag once, twice, occupying himself for quite some time before replying. "You know that answer. Why ask it?"

Micah smirked. Pleased. "To see how long it will take you to admit you don't want to leave the academy." He turned, watching the other cadet closely, gauging his reaction.

"It's what my father requested. It is what I want," Kai informed tensely. "Flint isn't the only one who has improved considerably these past few weeks. Sachiel tells me you were born to be an Unda warrior. It seems I need to get ahead of you somehow, so I might as well establish a position in court before you graduate."

"You and I both know someone of my pedigree would only succeed on the battlefield. No high court for desert rats," Micah replied evenly. "You won't have any competition from me."

Kai paused, keeping his attention on his sword. A strange emotion crossed his features, something akin to disenchantment.

"Maybe."

He went back to polishing, well aware of but ignoring Micah's scrutiny.

The past several weeks were rather routine and repetitive. They trained together as a team, ate together, attended classes, and Micah would train with Sachiel three times a week.

At first, he felt uncomfortable with Sachiel's style of instruction. The man put him through drills that were more like dancing without a partner. It took several tries for Micah to put together the steps and the footwork, but when he did, he realized it was all about the rhythm, the continuous movement of water and the Unda form.

Dancing without a staff or any sort of weapon transpired the first week. He'd had to endure Sachiel's taunting eyes as the other man plopped down on a bench. Often times, the man preoccupied himself with something that required a lot of paperwork, while other times, he had the audacity to eat a light dinner and sip tea while Micah humiliated himself on the mats. When Micah fell behind, or his steps turned uncoordinated, Sachiel would clap his hands loudly to the rhythm, spurring a tense jaw from Micah as he complied and forced himself to follow Sachiel's lead.

Micah knew the first week was Sachiel's favorite.

Eventually, the man allowed him the staff as a dancing partner during the second week.

He stepped in as Micah's opponent during the third week of their training.

For the most part, Sachiel remained particularly professional during their lessons and hardly ever talked about anything other than technique. He did not budge an inch when it came to the subject of Idris. He kept conversation strictly on combative form, the team, and the occasional mention of politics. He was a good instructor, a very good instructor.

Micah recognized why his name was in high demand amongst the aristocrats. Under Sachiel's influence, the Unda form came easy to him. It was as if he were meant to learn it from the start. For the first time in his life, he related to an Unda tradition far better than he did the Igni equivalent.

"My father…" Kai started deliberately. "Would like to meet you. He was hoping for a meeting sometime after term ended."

Micah refocused on the boy with razor sharp attention. "Oh?" he crooned, charmed.

Kai stiffened. "I was not the one to kindle his interest."

"Yes, because we both know you'd never speak highly of me to others."

"It will undoubtedly come to a surprise to you, Egan," Kai started, his tone heavy with sarcasm. "But not everyone views you in a godly light. You may have the looks, but that just makes people hate you more."

That made Micah pause and his amusement pique. He leaned closer to the other boy, laughing under his breath. "Overbearing fathers and pompous nobles don't intimidate me, Edlen. I'd be more than happy to meet his acquaintance." Micah stood up from the bench and twirled his sword. "I'm going to test the others on the team. You just sit there and wallow."

"I don't wallow."

Micah smirked as Kai's words followed him to the others. He circled the two groups, surveying their form and their agility. He was testing their endurance. They had just completed a vigorous run around the lower levels of the academy before returning here to spar. Judging from their flushed cheeks and the sheen on their skin, they were pushing themselves.

While their form wasn't as clean as it was after a slow warmup, he was pleased to see they were not sloppy.

They were not in their assigned, combative pairs today. He'd let them choose their partners, and the partners they selected only cemented Micah's decision to assign them pairs that were not predetermined based off friendships.

There were reasons some cadets worked better with others.

He prowled behind Cain and Viktor, smirking at the latter's blanch when he sensed Micah's presence. Expertly, he cut in between the two, focusing on the smaller cadet. Viktor was a very good warrior, yet when he fought with Cain, he tended to relax and let the other man pick up the slack. As Micah assaulted him with an array of attacks, Viktor seemed taken off guard at the change of speed, most likely contributed to not giving his all with Cain.

"Lose the slack next time, Viktor," Micah murmured, disarming him and turning to Cain.

Cain. Cain was a power fighter. He was not about form or finesse, though he was not uncoordinated or ungraceful. He would work well with any other member of the team, yet Micah preferred to pair him with Talia to lend her his strength. As Micah engaged the man in combat, he grinned at the power behind each hit, forcing his feet into an acceptable stance to absorb the blows.

The one downfall with Cain was his tendency to hold back on his teammates. Micah still remembered Cain's ferocity during the first mission. His lethality. The man was a cruel fighter and that did not bode very well for friendly duels. Micah believed, by training the man in endurance and form, he would still improve on the battlefield. One did not have to win mock duels to progress as a warrior.

"Good footwork." Micah twirled his arm around Cain's, disarming him.

He then turned around, instantly locking eyes with Talia's stubborn stare. She'd been the third partner to Viktor and Cain, opting to take her turn later. Instead of resting, she'd decided to continue running around the training arena, her drenched tunic indicating she cared little for restraint.

She raced towards him, drawing her weapon.

Micah met her, anticipating the low hits and recovering well. Talia was a smaller version of Kai. Both cadets relied on the immaculate Unda form, yet they were so angry and fierce. Their temperament in battle was impressively animated. Talia's short stature allowed her to take her taller opponents by surprise by aiming low. While he was familiar with her style, others would not be.

She had an advantage in battle.

Yet, he still preferred she be with Cain, just in case her energy and her quick speed could not compensate against a power opponent.

Micah smiled thinly as they continued the mock duel. She refused to relent. She wanted to beat him. Best him. It would have been an engaging duel, however, Micah had two others he needed to critique.

"Good." He caressed her blade before stepping away. Crossing his sword over his torso, he surrendered. "I will call that a draw." She appeared sour. "Go duel with Kai." He looked pointedly at the other man who remained sitting and observing. Edlen merely lifted his brows at the suggested order. "You two should practice together more often."

Turning his shoulder on their less than enthused expressions, he closed in on Aiden and Keegan. Two cadets who should never be paired together in battle. Aiden typically forced Viktor to carry his own weight and vice versa. They had a private competition, Micah noticed. Both men were relatively similar, yet for whatever reason, they often enjoyed a rivalry.

Micah grinned at Keegan's eager expression. "I'm saving you for last."

He turned into Aiden's strike, blocking it with ease before countering with his own. Aiden was a proud fighter who undoubtedly tried to emulate the style of his father. Unlike Kai's pride in battle, which Micah was gradually working on, Aiden did not get furious with slipups. Instead, he grew shaky and it ruined his confidence.

His Igni form was exceptional. His posture and stance strong. Against stronger opponents, however, he seemed to struggle. However, with Viktor at his side, and their rivalry in place, Aiden no longer seemed to concentrate on just his opponent, but rather his desire to best Viktor.

They were a natural pair.

Granted, the weaknesses he noticed with each member of the team eventually needed to be addressed and improved. They could not rely on their partners forever. Micah wanted to make them stronger individual warriors.

But that would come with time.

As he forced Aiden into a corner, the man's movements turned stiff and choppy. His confidence waned and Micah quickly disarmed him, choosing not to prolong the situation. "Work on that confidence, Aiden."

Turning, he observed Keegan lowering into a readying stance, his eyes brighter than Micah had seen them in a long while. He grinned, pleased at this change. Micah threw out his sword, their swords clashing before Keegan twisted his wrist, sending Micah's sword in the opposite direction.

"Cadet Egan."

Keegan's expression fell as the loud voice reverberated across the training room. Micah turned toward the door, spying Josiah standing at the entrance with Instructor Candace by his side. They both wore their official military uniforms. Ranking bars, medals, and all.

Micah leaned away from Keegan as they, along with the rest of the team, stood at attention.

He hadn't interacted with Josiah since he'd convinced the Igni king to bring back Sachiel. The other man's absence bothered him, especially considering Micah wanted to know his progress of finding Clarence. Especially when he just wanted to interact with him. However, he knew Josiah had duties at the palace. His frustration was petty and it was an inconvenience. Moreover, he was not dependent on the man, nor did he ever want to become reliant. He was growing stronger on his own and with Sachiel. He did not need Josiah.

Yet, that alien and sick thrill curled pleasantly in his stomach as Josiah's attention landed on him. There was no denying the attraction and tension, though Micah would never allow it to consume him whole.

Josiah lifted a gloved hand and motioned him forward.

Micah approached the men under the diligent eyes of his team members. Their curiosity was palpable as Instructor Candace ushered him outside the training room and into the corridor. Two individuals greeted him outside the room. A man and a woman. The man was squat with spectacles, the woman tall and thin. Both Unda and both scholar-like.

Upon seeing Micah, the female stiffened and raked her eyes up and down his form. "What kind of men do you breed here, Lord Josiah?" she mused. "I approve." Her eyes then landed on Instructor Candace. "Although any man in uniform is rather dashing."

Josiah's expression was dark, shuttered. "Cadet Eagan, this is Professor Arno." He then gestured to the man. "And Professor Firth."

"You may call me Loire, Cadet Egan," she mushed.

Micah considered her stoically, unimpressed. He supposed she was attractive, though he was more inclined to notice a man's attractiveness. Her hair was loosely pulled back to the nape of her neck and her face was fair and finely sculptured. He contorted his features into something a bit more approachable.

"A pleasure to meet you," he responded politely.

"After your unfortunate performance earlier in the year, Instructor Candace and I believed it was past due for a redemption mission." Josiah stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his stature powerful and authoritative.

He looked at Micah alone, as if the others were merely invisible. There was something alluring about playing parts, Micah mused. In public, they met the cues, they acted their roles, yet in private, it was an entirely different dance. A debauchery enjoyed by just the two of them.

Micah loved every minute of it.

"Professors Firth and Arno need to travel to the Sanctuary Region in the west," Josiah continued. "There has been… conflict in the west."

The Terra Kingdom.

Micah inclined his head to show he followed the depiction. Inside, his mood soared. He'd always wanted to go to the Terra Kingdom. He couldn't believe he actually had the opportunity! Granted, the sanctuary region was not officially the Terra Kingdom, but it was an extension. It would sate at least a sliver of his curiosity.

"In this Sanctuary Region, there are artifacts and old scripts of the four kingdoms. King Calder would like a few priceless items recovered from the Unda vault before the conflict in the west grows out of control." Josiah tore his eyes from Micah and looked at the professors. "Only Professors Firth and Arno can access the vault and they need escorts."

Micah's mind spun wildly as he absorbed Josiah's words, picking them apart and analyzing them carefully. Immediately, his suspicions heightened.

"Are your men ready, Egan?" Candace barked out in question.

"My team is more than ready to take on another mission, sir."

"The military and myself will be accompanying you," Josiah informed. "Reports have indicated the Terra Kingdom is a nonthreat at the moment. We don't anticipate any hostile attacks, though it is best to arrive prepared."

Micah nodded. "Understood, sir." He paused. "When do we leave?"

"Tonight."

* * * *

It was almost like déjà vu. Only this time, the train ride to their mission was much longer than their first assignment. Micah had to sit amongst his teammates' nervous energy for days.

They'd boarded the train late evening and slept through the night. After breakfast, they fiddled with their gear and attempted to read in the compartment that housed Josiah, Instructor Candace, and the two professors. There was a fair amount of military men in the cramped compartments in the back of the train, though Micah's team had the opportunity to sit up front.

Josiah's presence alone caused his team to shift uneasily.

They hadn't said a word all morning, well aware of their audience and the upcoming mission.

Micah leaned over the table and quietly helped Viktor with his assignment. Keegan normally donned the role as the team tutor; however, Viktor had specifically approached Micah today. He didn't know if Viktor feigned ignorance to arithmetic problems intentionally to get Micah's attention, or if he truly was a lost cause.

As Micah looked up, he caught Viktor watching him intensely and not the parchment. He suddenly realized Viktor's issue with arithmetic questions were not out of any lost cause, but because he was a very, very foolish individual.

"Viktor."

The boy grinned wildly at Micah's tempered warning. "Yes, Micah?"

Exhaling, Micah pushed the parchment towards the boy. "If you were paying attention, you can complete this problem on your own."

"Yes, Captain."

Across the way, Kai scoffed under his breath. "You play right into his hands, Egan."

Viktor's grin turned wicked, though his attention remained fixated on the parchment in front of him. "I appreciate your patience and time, Micah. There is nothing underhanded about my intentions, I assure you."

"Just focus on your work," Micah reprimanded the boy. He stood up and moved away from the Unda hellion and toward his own school assignments. He had an essay to write and several chapters to read before they returned to the capital. Unfortunately, he didn't get very far in his work, for Keegan caught his attention from across the aisle.

"What are the pairs when we arrive at our destination?"

Micah looked at Keegan and then continued to work on his problems with controlled ire. It was quite some time before he responded. "You already know the pairings, Keegan. They are the same as they are in practice. You are with Cain and Talia. Aiden and Viktor are together. Kai is with me."

A book slammed loudly on the table, drawing everyone's startled attention. Rather uncharacteristically, Keegan stood up, his temper flaring. "I'm ready, Micah!" He shook his head as if to expel a particular thought. "I've trained so hard for this. I want to be by your side for this mission. I want you to see the hard work I've put into this."

Silence met his angry retort and Micah simply watched him coolly.

"Probably not the best place, eh Keegan?" Aiden whispered.

Keegan glanced hastily towards their other compartment companions and flushed hotly at the attention. He cleared his throat and hurried away from his team and down the corridor towards their sleeping quarters. The door slammed shut behind him.

"And here I thought we only had one girl on our team…" Viktor mused.

"Tactless, Viktor," Talia spat.

"Off to coddle him, Egan?" Kai accused, watching as Micah stood with unhappy eyes. "It's what he wants. I don't see why you encourage him so much."

Ignoring Edlen's spiteful comment, Micah followed Keegan into the back compartment. He could feel the eyes boring into his back, but as soon as the door shut, the shadows and stillness engulfed him. As he reached for the door to their sleeping quarters, he took a deep, calming breath before opening it.

"I'm sorry," Keegan blurted out as soon as Micah entered. The other man remained sitting on the bottom bunkbed, avoiding eye contact. At his sides, his hands clenched and his shoulders appeared rather droopy with shame.

"Anger happens to the best of us." Micah walked over to the adjacent bunkbed and sat facing Keegan. "But you hardly ever give into temper outbursts, Keegan. This was obviously a concern you should have approached me about earlier."

Naturally, he was upset with Keegan. The boy had questioned him in front of Josiah, Candace, and the two professors. As well as the rest of the team. However, Micah would not show his anger unless the situation warranted. With Keegan, Micah could get away with a calmer approach and still get his disappointment across. Besides, Keegan's humiliation was instantaneous. The other cadet knew he'd slipped.

Keegan leaned forward and cupped his knees, squeezing them. "This has been eating away at me since you left the school with Kai on your vengeance, Micah." Doleful amber eyes looked up at him. "I've told you that."

"I remember," Micah replied stiffly. "Don't presume I have a bad memory."

"It's just that…"

Micah's eyes lowered.

"It's just what?" he pressed impatiently.

Keegan was being especially peculiar today.

"The more I try to look at this from an outside prospective, the more I feel as if you have a… unhealthy effect on people, Micah." Keegan shifted under the incredible look. "At first, I thought it was just me," he said hurriedly. "That maybe I had an unhealthy sort of fascination with you. But the more I actually look around, the more I actually talk with other, the more I realize that everyone you touch in some way constantly vies for your attention."

"That's ridiculous," Micah said.

"It's not," Keegan responded heatedly, his cheeks flushing red. "The whole team competes for your attention. Even the instructors and other students at the academy appreciate you. Micah, you have some sort of enchantment that draws people in and—and— consumes them."

Well that was just silly.

He said as much.

Keegan shook his head, frustrated. "Maybe it is silly," he said. "But I know it's true. You possess a cold and detached façade that makes it seem as if you don't see us. I'm concerned for you. The attention you get may not always be in the best light, especially if they think they are being ignored."

Micah saw many things, but he did not see the correlation between Keegan's delusions and reality. What Keegan described was a psychological illusion usually presented with kings and lords. Their people saw their power, their indestructibility, and preened with the irrational need to become someone important to those powerful figureheads.

However, that sort of enchantment came with proclaimed titles of power. Like the nobles flocking around Josiah during the first-year cadets' final trial, hoping to catch his attention. It did not happen to nameless students whose only power was swordsmanship skills and high academics marks.

Leaning forward, Micah clasped his hands together and chose to approach the situation with an unbiased view. Declaring Keegan's beliefs irrational again would only subject them to an endless loop of arguments. After all, Keegan seemed rather passionate about this particular concern.

"You're right," Micah admitted. "The team tries very hard to catch my attention. However, I am their captain. It is only natural they strive to succeed with me."

Keegan flushed an even deeper shade of red. Out of anger or embarrassment, Micah did not know.

"You don't believe—"

"But you're wrong about one thing," Micah interrupted. "I do pay attention. I pay very close attention to the team. I try not to play favorites, but I do watch each of you closely. I know you, particularly, have made leaps and bounds with the sword." That seemed to temper the other man's automatic argument. "I've seen you practice through the blisters on your hands," Micah said. "I've seen the way you've limped to classes and the dinners you've missed. You've pushed through the pain and discomfort just to get better at something you've always wanted to excel at."

"I—I never said anything. I never told you—"

"You never needed to." Micah paused. "I saw all of it. It—you—have impressed me."

If anything, Keegan appeared remorseful and uncomfortable. For a long moment, he did not speak, but rather focused on his hands. "I'm sorry for questioning you in front of the others."

"You've already apologized." Micah clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I don't want to hear it again."

"Then why don't you trust me to be at your side?" Keegan asked slowly with a hint of hesitation. He knew he was pushing the topic, yet clearly, he needed to know why. "We've known each other for years, kid. I thought you'd appreciate me doing better so we could work together."

Micah wondered when he decided to play the role of a caring, considerate friend, but he pushed the thought away. This was Keegan. Keegan would always hold an exception with Micah.

"We are working together," he answered calmly. "When we return to the academy, you and I can practice together and get familiar with each other's style of fighting. Kai is leaving us after this term so the team needs shifting. A real mission, however, is not the time to experiment with new pairings."

Keegan nodded with consensus, finally looking up and catching his eyes. "You're right. Now isn't the time. But I do look forward to finally sparring against you, Micah." He stood up and neared the door to their sleeping quarters. "I know how much this conversation made you uncomfortable, but I do appreciate it." Here, he winked and left the compartment before Micah could retort.

Staring at the closed door, he contemplated.

Keegan appeared rather adamant about the enchantment scenario.

"You appear conflicted."

The sudden weight and warmth next to Micah startled him. He turned, locking eyes with amused orange, feeling his pulse hammer uncomfortably in his throat. He held his tongue, knowing any sort of acknowledgement of surprise would be the man's win. What kind of sorcery allowed invisibility? How often did Josiah implement it?

"Something Keegan said," Micah responded evenly, gazing suspiciously at Josiah. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough."

The man sat stiffly with one ankle resting atop his leg. He appeared settled, as if he'd been there since the start of the conversation, though Micah was willing to bet the man appeared only when Keegan exited the compartment.

"Mass obsession," Micah started quietly, looking back towards the door to where Keegan once stood. "Is usually a result of social titles and status, is it not? Take away the title and the king just because another man. People are drawn to titles proclaiming power, authority, influence, and money."

"Or physical beauty."

Micah grimaced at the implication. "Not on a mass scale," he retorted sensibly. "Physical beauty is often subjective and dependent on the individual in question. Someone I view attractive may be rather plain and average to others."

"Where are you going with this, child?"

"Keegan claims I have an enchantment over others." Micah stood up. "That I have an unhealthy effect on people I come in contact with."

"And you believe him."

"No."

"At least to the point that it unsettles you."

"I'm not unsettled," Micah disputed. "I am merely considering what aspects would draw people, on a mass scale, to obsess over an individual."

"Perhaps it is not so much a mass scale as it is an individual obsession." Josiah stood from the mattress and loomed over Micah. Clearly, the man was finding the whole conversation entertaining. "The boy is uncomfortable with his feelings. He would like to think he is not alone in his fascination, but among similar concurrence."

"Keegan is many things. Obsessed is not one of them."

"Then how would you explain this mass obsession to your person?"

Micah looked up at Josiah, petulant. "There are many sorts of magics and enchantments I am not privy to, which is why I'm asking you."

"What would someone benefit by casting an enchantment over you?"

Micah exhaled with frustration and turned his back on the man, feeling silly for even asking. Feeling silly for even considering Keegan's passionate speculation. Yet, there was something there Micah could not quite grasp. A feeling of sorts. An intuition. Josiah wasn't making things easy by skirting the issue. Was it intentional? Alternatively, did the man truly find no reason to dwell on such a sentiment from someone like Keegan?

A hand cupped the nape of his neck, tightening around him like a collar. "I suppose he is not entirely alone in his captivation of you," Josiah breathed in his ear. "I have missed you."

"I can't say the sentiment is mutual."

Josiah exhaled hotly across the back of his neck, a small sign of his dark amusement in face of Micah's blatant irritability. "What will it take for that sentiment to be returned?"

The hand not occupying his neck touched his bicep and elbow lightly before hovering just far enough away to be a tease. Micah stared straight ahead, trying not to feel the way his body trembled deep inside with something akin to want. The man behind him was hardly doing much in way of physical contact, the hand was far too light—not even touching, and yet, those small, nearly inconspicuous touches still set his skin aflame.

Agni, he was a fool.

The only thing that ruined the sensual and affectionate embrace was the greedy hand tightening further around his neck, holding him in place, imprisoning him. "What would make me return the sentiment?" Micah turned as much as the hand would allow him. He met Josiah's eyes, their lips a mere breadth away. "I want to know what artifact you want."

Josiah stared at him in silence.

Micah smirked hungrily.

"Come now, Uncle," he taunted seductively. "Officially, it may be your military, but that doesn't mean the Igni lord would accompany military rats on a relatively innocuous mission. A mission that indicates little threat from the Terra Kingdom despite whispers of civil uprising. Only, said mission is to Unda's vault of priceless artifacts and scriptures. Imagine that."

It was all too convenient.

"To ensure your safety."

Micah withheld the urge to laugh. "Unlikely." He pursed his lips. "Which leaves me with my original question. What artifact do you think you could take without first-year cadets and two professors noticing?"

Pleasure and intense appreciation brightened Josiah's eyes upon Micah's goading. The hand around his neck moved up to rake through his hair. Fingers grabbed and knotted his roots, turning him around forcibly and pushing him against the cabin's flimsy wardrobe. Micah nearly purred at the man's rough treatment, pleased he garnered such a reaction from the normally reserved man.

"When I look at you, my initial thoughts are entirely primitive," Josiah explained quietly. With his hands no longer touching Micah, he advanced slowly, caging Micah against the wardrobe. "There is a wholly consuming need to claim every inch of you as thoroughly as possible. It takes a great deal of restraint to hold it down and regain my… rationality."

Micah forced himself to remain impassive despite the delectably depraved words.

"I don't take you as the kind of man to deny yourself what you want."

He said it to be a tease. It wasn't as if Micah were truly humoring the idea of having sex with Josiah. Was he? After all, consequences would arise from such an event, wouldn't they? Ember told him as much. Warned him. Not only would Josiah gain more power from their initiated Chosen bond, but Micah would also find it difficult to look at himself again. It was far too soon. Far too easy for Josiah. He had to make the man struggle first.

Josiah offered a small, cruel smile. "You cannot handle me in that capacity." He seemed amused at something only he knew. "You are not ready, I assure you. I would…" he trailed off, clearly trying to find the appropriate word. "Extinguish you."

"Extinguish," Micah repeated, disappointed at the turn of events. He tried not to feel insulted. "I don't follow."

"I don't imagine you could," the older man replied.

While Josiah's overwhelming presence took a great deal to tolerate and withstand, Micah believed he'd adapted well enough. He'd come a long way since his first interaction with the man those many months ago. Yet, clearly Josiah did not believe he'd come far enough. They were back to their initial play, weren't they? Josiah didn't want someone so weak.

Frustrated he was even entertaining such a notion of getting closer to Josiah in that capacity, Micah pushed away from the man. He wanted to tell himself he was more upset with Josiah's continued underestimation of him.

He couldn't handle Josiah? Hadn't he proved himself capable of doing just that all these months? What more did he need to do? Why did he even care to learn the answer to that?

"Now I've upset you."

Micah's stare was cold. "Upset me? You don't have the ability to upset me when my expectations are so low to begin with."

Josiah frowned, watching as Micah put further distance between them. His eyes were sharp and focused intently. "In due time, everything will become clearer."

"What does that even mean?" Micah pressed.

Someone banged on the door to the sleeping quarters before it sprung open without invitation. Aiden stood on the other side, his expression contorted uncertainly. His eyes remained fixed on Micah, evidence Josiah had disappeared once again. "Talia." Aiden motioned down the corridor with an anxious hand. "Professor Firth is basically interrogating her woman to woman."

Micah blinked, uncomprehending.

"About female things," Aiden stressed. "It's making everyone uncomfortable. I don't know how much longer Talia can last without drawing her sword."

Sighing, Micah followed Aiden out the sleeping quarters and down the corridor. He brushed aside his conversation with Josiah and the disappointment he felt. Everything is how it was supposed to be. This distance was required between himself and Josiah. It was needed. He shouldn't care what the other man felt, simply because he felt the same.

A bond was out of the question.

Upon arrival to the compartment, he witnessed the males sitting as far away from Talia as possible with expressions of discomfort and mortification as they preoccupied themselves with their coursework. Talia sat stiffly, her nose pressed deep into her textbook as Professor Firth sat next to her. The female professor crossed her legs smartly, revealing shapely, smooth legs. Even her blouse revealed far more of her than Micah wanted to see.

He was not impressed, though he caught several of his teammates' lingering stares.

Upon seeing Micah, the professor straightened and smiled genuinely. "Cadet Egan, I was hoping to ask you a few questions." She motioned towards the spot next to her. "I don't typically encounter biracial men of such…" her eyes leered. "Prestige."

Viktor and Aiden snickered at Micah's stiff back.

"Tell me, what race do you identify yourself with? Though your skin is far lighter than the typical tanned of the Igni citizens, your coloring is predominantly of the desert region. Except the eyes, of course. They are rather unique."

Micah stared at her, his temper falling flat as he recognized her sincere curiosity.

Her attractiveness diverted most away from her true character. They saw her physical appearance and did not correlate her as an academic. Yet, her eyes brimmed with unbridled interest and her social cues were rather blunt and awkward, like most typical scholars. Just over her shoulder, he could see her companion, Professor Arno, watching the proceedings with unsuppressed curiosity.

Micah tempered his automatic response.

He approached her slowly. "I will tell you everything you need to know about living as a biracial citizen," he started sincerely. "As long as you tell me everything King Calder wants out of that Unda vault and their purpose."

Firth frowned. "I am not obliged to give out that information."

Micah leaned forward and smiled softly. "Well then, I suppose we're at a stalemate then, Professor Firth. As much as I'd like to trade information, my team and I need to resume our studies."

A blush stained her cheeks at his proximity and his smooth tone. "Fair enough, Cadet Egan." She stood, forcing Micah back a step. "I suppose another time then?"

He grinned, watching as she rejoined her partner.

Viktor whistled as he turned back to his team. "Well done." As Micah settled amongst his teammates, Viktor crowded him. "Tell me, Micah," he whispered with an undertone of huskiness and femininity. "What is it like to experience two, dominant races battling around in your subconscious? Does the Unda typically win? Or the Igni?"

They erupted into poorly stifled laughter.

Hardly amused at their childish wit, Micah caught Keegan watching the proceedings with a grim and contemplative expression on his face. As he caught Micah's stare, he offered a semblance of a smile, though it came across as a grimace.

Whatever concerns Micah may have addressed with Keegan didn't appear to have eased the boy's uncharacteristic restlessness.

For what seemed like a first time, Micah was clueless how to remedy a situation.