Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,220

least it kept the nightmares away. Huxley observed my face with interest, patiently waiting for my response. He was so damn patient lately. I wanted him to fight back. "I like punching you," I replied with a smirk, but I wasn't fooling him. I wasn't fooling anyone.

My time in Ethros broke me.

Commodore Cavil taught me how dangerous the world was. I wasn't prepared to fight for my life. I was a sheltered Walker. Stonewell Manor might have been a prison, but I was cared for. Josiah kept me safe from the evils of this empire. Then, when I moved to Dormas, that care and responsibility transferred to my guys. I loved knowing that they could protect me. Since experiencing true blinding fear, I would no longer take for granted the privilege of sleeping soundly. But I craved feeling confident in my own abilities. I wasn't strong enough in Ethros, but I'd be strong enough now.

Fighting also helped me reclaim parts of my broody Huxley. He stopped treating me like a glass figurine during our nights together. He made me feel capable, strong, and sexy. I treasured the moments that he let his guard down and let me forget about the anxiety and regret. Here, we were just two bodies being pushed to the limit.

"How about this," Huxley began, walking closer. He took the canteen from my shaky fingers and placed his plump lips around the opening and gulped. Droplets of water fell down his chin, and I licked my lips. He was so handsome. Our fights had helped him become even more toned. The white shirt he usually wore had grown tight, and I found myself getting distracted throughout the day. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy looking at his bare, muscular torso every night.

He caught me staring out of the corner of his eye. And after pulling the bottle from his lips, that damn lip quirk I loved so much appeared in a flash, disappearing before I could enjoy it.

We had agreed to hold off on all physical aspects of our relationships until we knew more about Cyler, Maverick, and Jacob. I was too traumatized by everything that happened and still recovering from our escape. It made sense at the time, but lately, my nights with Huxley had reawakened the craving I felt in Ethros.

"I'll spend an hour with you in training for every hour you spend with Patrick and Kemper."

I scowled, earning another lip quirk from Huxley. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with them. I craved them on a visceral level. I longed for normalcy and their touch. I wanted Patrick’s playful jokes and Kemper’s heated words saved only for me. But fighting with Huxley was easy. We didn't talk. We just moved until there was no strength left. If I were to open up to Patrick and Kemper, they'd want to talk. About my feelings, my reservations, my...grief.

I hated that word.

In so many ways, I was still the same girl from Galla. But Ethros had hardened me, and I wasn't sure how to bridge the girl they fell in love with to the girl I'd become. I started off feeling sad. I cried, circling around hopelessness and devastation like it was a prison of my own making. Then I felt nothing. Aside from the bursts of anger and lust I experienced during trainings with Huxley, I spent most of my days feeling nothing at all. I was numb. And somehow, I knew that being numb was worse. Much worse.

I debated arguing with Huxley, deflecting his offer with a snide joke—something I'd become good at. But instead, I let my shoulders slump.

"I...I can't."

I couldn't stand knowing that I was hurting them by staying away. Seeing the pain in their eyes, the disappointment, was killing me. They were mourning the loss of their best friends too. I was being selfish by shutting them out. Maverick always told me to not play the martyr. But here I was, feeling sorry for myself when I should be fighting.

"Yeah, you can," Huxley said while stepping forward and abandoning the canteen. It landed in the dirt with a thud. With his thumb, he lifted up my chin, forcing me to stare into his green eyes. "One hour, Ash. That's it. Then I'll let you try and punch me all you want. You know it makes you feel better," he said, gaze bright and daring.

"Fine."

"Good girl," he murmured while stroking a sweaty strand of hair behind my