His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
Valen considers her for a moment, and then he begins walking again. Alia quickens her pace to reach his side. "What do you know of the Warriors?"
Alia furrows her brows. "They're the Pack's military force."
"And how do they differ from the rest of the Untitled?"
Alia frowns, unsure. "They're stronger?"
He shakes his head. "The Untitled are trained to fight, but nothing is expected of them when it comes to battle." They walk further into the park, finding the familiar orange-leafed tree. "Warriors are trained to kill. Their priority is to protect the Pack, and they will lay down their lives to do so."
Alia recalls the training centre, remembering they held no weaponry inside the training hall. She never realised it before, but it puts to question the ability of the Warriors. The men and women she spars with are strong, very strong and very capable fighters. But they aren't Warriors. Alia doesn't think she's even met one of them.
Alia decides on a new goal for the Trials - to become a Warrior. She'll never be a General, not when the standard is so incredibly high. She'd have to train for years on end to even become a slither of the worth of the Title. It's just not possible.
She looks at Valen. "Then what about the Generals? What do they do?" They reach the tree and Alia decides to sit against it, but Valen remains standing. She tilts her head, watching as he stares off into the forest nearby. What is he looking at?
"Stay where you are. I'll only be a moment." He walks into the forest, not waiting for an answer.
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Valen's heart is racing.
Leaves and branches scratch his arms as he runs further into the forest and away from prying eyes. Flashes of memories invade his mind, reminding him of the moments when his forearms were sliced open. He tried to distract his mind by conversing with Alia, but he couldn't hold back the memories any further. He needed to leave.
Even without seeing the boy's wound, he could visualise it.
Leaning a hand against the rough bark of a tree, Valen's eyes are squeezed shut as he takes in heaving breaths. I'm not there anymore.
Memories of his screams send him to his knees. His hands press tightly against his ears, trying to block the sounds of his pain.
I'm not there. I'm not there. I'm not there.
He can feel his consciousness slipping. Desperate, Valen begins to reach for his Gamma's mind, but he can't think, he can only see the cell. Pain shoots up his arms from his knuckles as his fists slam into the ground one after the other. The ground crumbles underneath the force of him, blood coating dead leaves. He needs to distract his mind.
