Edge of Dawn Page 0,14
all.”
Lucan had told her much the same thing earlier tonight. That she had earned the disapproval of the Order’s founder and commander was bad enough. Disappointing Nathan and the other warriors who served alongside her was much harder to bear. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it wholeheartedly. “I wish I could forget him, Nathan, but I can’t.”
“You still love him.”
Not a question, and she couldn’t begin to deny it. Nathan, along with most of the Order and their mates, had long ago recognized the bond that had formed between Kellan and her over the years. What had begun for her as a childhood crush on a sullen, damaged boy had blazed into something much deeper as she matured into a young woman and watched Kellan become a courageous soldier, a good man of unshakable honor.
Mira had loved Kellan from the time she was eight years old. Growing up, he’d been her best friend, her favorite sparring partner when she’d entered training to become a warrior. He’d been her first kiss at fifteen. Her first taste of desire, when sparring and laughter turned to heated glances and caresses that left her virgin body trembling and hungry for more.
Kellan had been the only one for her. How many times had she imagined their life together? How often had she dreamed of their future, of sharing an eternity with him as his blood-bonded mate?
But he’d always held something of himself back from her. She’d never understood why. And then they’d shared one incredible night together—a night when she’d had all of him, at last—only to lose him forever a few short hours later in the blast that took his life.
“I can’t forget him, Nathan. And I can’t forgive the ones who tore him out of our lives. How do you do it? After all, Kellan was your friend too.”
“The best I’ll ever have.” Nathan and Kellan had been as close as brothers. Maybe closer, having walked into combat together countless times as members of the same Order squad. They’d faced death together unflinchingly, dealt it without mercy when duty called for it. And they’d done it as friends, family, brothers-in-arms. Mira could see the pain of that loss in Nathan’s greenish blue eyes, even though his handsome face held its stoic, soldier’s expression. “I miss him too, Mira. I hate like hell that he’s gone. But he is gone. He’s dead. Throwing away your future won’t bring him back.”
God, if it would? For a brief, sharply desperate moment, she wondered what she would be willing to sacrifice to have Kellan alive again. Nearly a decade without him, and she still ached to see him, to touch him. Pathetic, how deeply she longed for that. Some stubborn piece of her still clung to the hope that this was just some awful, cosmic mistake that had to be corrected soon and then everything would be as it should be once again.
Right. Pathetic.
“When do you return to Montreal?” Nathan asked, a welcome break from her dark thoughts, drawing her back to reality. Which wasn’t much brighter at the moment.
“I don’t go back. Not for a while, that is.” She slanted him a rueful glance. “I’ve been summoned to D.C. for an in-person Council review with Lucan and the other Order commanders. Where, I’m all but sure, I’ll be asked to step down from my post as captain. Webb’s standing in as my replacement. Lucan’s decision. He’s already sent the team back to base without me.”
Idly, she traced her thumb over the scrollwork of one of her hand-tooled daggers—a gift from Nikolai and Renata, who were the closest thing to parents that she’d ever known. The blades were fashioned similarly to the ones Renata wielded so beautifully, but this pair had been designed especially for Mira, presented to her on the day she was promoted to captain.
The hilts of her two daggers were carved on each side, etched by the same artisan, bearing the same words that graced Renata’s four: Courage. Sacrifice. Honor. Faith.
She’d never felt more unworthy of holding them.
Nathan eyed her in grave silence, and even though he spared her from his opinion on the matter, she could tell that he understood as well as she did that her position with the Order was tenuous at best. She’d been exiled to a kind of no-man’s-land, not fully yanked from her footing but cut adrift just the same.
“Has a date been set for your Council review?”
She nodded. “Four days from now, just before the GNC peace