You’re no man, Max,the demon chuckled.
Thane looked dazed for half a second before snapping to attention, heels clicking together. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Drakken turned and gave me one last look. Thosegray eyes swept from my bruised face to my blood-stained shirt to the half-soaked cot behind me. His expression gave nothing away: no sympathy, no satisfaction. Just the cold calculation of a man who’d weighed the evidence, delivered his judgment, and was done.
He turned and strode toward the exit without another word.
I wasn’t worthy of his mention.
“Do you need medical attention, Max?” Caspian asked, his green eyes scanning the damage.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I heal fast.”
My ribs ached. My cheekbone throbbed where that punch landed. But I could feel the damage knitting already, faster than it should. Whatever the demon had done when it surged power through me, the aftermath included accelerated healing. And I’d had proper nutrition now. My body was finally making up for twenty years of starvation.
“If—”
The heirs had offered me positions outside the soldier track before. I knew what he was going to ask.
“I’m good.” I met his eyes. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
He nodded, then glanced at my half-soaked cot. His jaw tightened. He knew this was Drakken’s doing—the cot instead of a bunk bed, the target painted on my back.
“You coming, Caspian?” Drakken bellowed from the door.
“Asshole.” The shifter prince rolled his eyes, then laid a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get you a proper bunk soon, Max. I promise.”
Then he was gone too.
The moment the two princes left, the barracks exhaled. Cadets drifted back to their bunks in chastened silence.
I didn’t need Nikolai’s penthouse for cleanup this minor. I grabbed a spare set of casual wear and slipped into the bathroom stall at the far end of the corridor.
The showers were empty at this hour. I scrubbed the blood from my shirt under cold water with rough, efficient strokes until the fabric ran clear. Then I wrung it out and headed back.
On my cot sat a new pillow and an extra blanket.
Thane. I knew it without asking. I wouldn’t forget this. In the mines, small kindnesses were the currency that kept people human. Out here, apparently, the same held true.
Even with a wet pillow and no blanket, this was still better than the mine.
I lay down, pressed my cheek against the clean pillow, and closed my eyes.
The demon would watch my back. For its own sake, of course. If I died, it died with me—or maybe it could jump to another host. But it seemed to prefer me.
I didn’t want to think about why.
Fortunately, sleep pulled me under.
17
MAX
Irose before anyone else in the barracks.
The room was still dark, the only sound the breathing of two hundred cadets fast asleep. I slipped from my cot and moved quickly toward the bathroom stalls at the far end of the corridor. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and checked my chest-bind, cinching it tight. All done in under four minutes.
By the time the reveille bell tore through the building, I’d changed into my uniform and was standing beside my cot, the bed made with corners tucked the way I’d watched Thane do his.