The General - S01 E36

5 months ago

The General - S01 E36

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 36

Malik is wrong.

I'm not pregnant. It's impossible. My body is so malnourished that I sometimes skip menstrual cycles. I haven't had any symptoms of pregnancy, and it has been weeks since War came inside me.

But what if...

My horror is joined by shame and sadness. Malik is long gone by now, and the other Masters are trickling out.

Malik is right. I'm not worthy of being beside War. Although he broke my heart by telling me that he and his brothers can't stand me, he didn't lie. I'm feeble-minded.

"You have not finished your food."

I jerk with alert and realized that I got lost in thought for an hour. War is back, fully clothed. He hovers over me and stares with indifference.

The man who loves me stares as if I'm a stranger, and it's all my fault.

Do I love him back? I haven't felt love in such a long time that it's hard to remember what it's like. All I know is that I feel something bigger than lust for War. I care about him, even more since he came for me.

I snap out of it. "Sorry."

"Is it cold? Would you like it warmed?"

Even now, he worries about me.

"It's alright." I take the spoon and quickly shovel food into my mouth. On the fifth spoonful, he snatches my wrist. A bolt of heat goes up my arm from the contact. My body starves for him while I could very well have a piece of him in my womb.

"Slow down," War orders.

I cough and sputter. "Sorry," I repeat, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Awkwardness does its thing, and I'm stuck between fight and flight. I choose flight. Of course I do.

"You should finish eating. We will roll out soon. Did you want to stop at the orphanage?"

The decision to leave or stay replaces my previous choice. I can argue that I want to stay at the orphanage, but that would mean parting with War for good. That is, if he would even let me go.

Malik thinks my place is with him.

"I do."

I'll stay with him. I will because something in my chest tells me Malik was brutal but honest. War needs me.

He nods. "We leave after the execution."

I swallow, hard. "Whose execution?"

That might be the stupidest question I've asked yet.

His face hardens. "You will not sway me on this. That male will die by my hand."

"Did The Queen approve of this? Was she who decided this?"

I want him to say yes. I want the blood to be on The Queen's hands, not War's. He has killed before, and I don't want to add more skeletons to his closet.

"She opposes it, but I get the ultimate word. She knows better than to defy me."

"War—"

"No." He slams on the brakes. "I will hear no more on this."

"I just think—"

"You do not lead an army. I do. The way Masters feel and think differs greatly from other males. The way we respect is different. There is nothing but filth in Vrint, and I will keep order among my ranks by making an example out of him."

An example? The word makes me flinch.

"The execution will happen before we depart to the orphanage."

There's no changing his mind. The Queen didn't, and it looks like I won't be able to, either. I've been proven to be the person with the most influence over him, but that isn't enough. His hatred for Vrint is too great.

"I don't want to be there. I don't want to see him die," I admit.

"I would not ask you to." He straightens and glances at my food. "Finish your meal. I will return for you."

I watch his strong back as he walks away. His broad shoulders are proud and his stroll is purposeful. He is such a magnificent man— both biologically and psychologically. Why is it so difficult to stand beside him?

I finish eating, and wait. When it starts to get late, I consider walking to the room beside with my shredded feet. I only stay seated because I know War wouldn't like that.

He returns eventually. After checking my empty plate, he says, "There has been a change of plans."

He picks me up, and I feel his chest rumble with a familiar intensity that I've missed. "I will have someone take you to the orphanage as I finish business."

I dip my chin. "Alright. Be safe, okay?"

He stops walking, and I wonder if I said anything wrong.

"Stop saying things like that. It makes it worse."

"What do you mean?"

"Do not tell me to be safe. It entangles my thoughts further."

Oh, I see. He's not used to having people worrying about him.

"Sorry."

I don't mean it, though. I will never be sorry for wanting to be safe.

"Besides, you are the one with the torn feet. I will enjoy whipping those bastards."

"Whipping?"

He doesn't reply. He sets me on the bed, stands to his full glory, and shrugs his shirt off until all I see is a wall of ripped, toned, scarred muscles.

My core clenches with unexpected desire, but instead of jumping me, War tosses his shirt aside and picks up a sword resting against the wall. He swings it over a shoulder and heads out.

There's a knock at the door a minute later. "Female, I was ordered by The General to escort you to the orphanage."

"Be there in a second." I stand on my tippy toes and bite back a groan.

I open the door and find two Masters I recognize.

"Hi."

Their gaze drop to my feet.

"The General has authorized us to touch you for transportation. I will engage now."

I nod, and the blank-faced Master reaches for me. He lifts me into his arms, and although he's strong, I feel unnerved in his embrace because he's not War.