Born of Defiance

“To the grave, Paka,” Brach breathed.

Gavarian reached for more bread. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re all good here. I didn’t hear nothing.”

Lorens grinned. “That’s right. Just having dinner with my baby sister. Don’t know of the harm in that.”

But an awkward silence hung in the room while they finished eating.

“Is your father why you don’t give interviews?” Lorens finally asked.

Talyn nodded. “It’s not something others need to know about me.”

“Where’s your father now?”

“Don’t know, sir. I’ve never met him.”

Her brother paused to consider that. “He was disinherited before you were born?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lorens, is it okay if we change the subject?” Felicia asked graciously. “Talyn is an Andarion of high honor and an extremely capable fighter pilot. I would run him up against anyone on Andaria.”

Reaching out, Talyn squeezed her hand in gratitude.

“I’m sorry I was nosy. You’re right. It’s none of my business. And I hope I didn’t offend you, Talyn.”

“No offense taken, sir. I’m used to being judged for my father’s shortcomings.”

Lorens looked ill as he must have realized how inconsiderate he was being to his host. “Talyn? Would you be adverse to my seeing what I can do to move you into a command position?”

Talyn’s eyes lit up with a hopeful joy that tightened her throat for him. “I would love nothing more, sir. Honestly. Just don’t ask me to throw a fight for it.”

He laughed. “No. I won’t do that. And I don’t expect anything for it. We could use an Andarion like you. The gods know I’m sick of the subsentient creatures they keep sending me. You wouldn’t believe what passes in the academies today. I had this one officer, a colonel no less, actually asked me where Arundel was located.”

Talyn’s jaw dropped. “Our northernmost outpost?”

“See! You know right where it is. Oh, and there’s a commander I met who still thought Huwin Quiakides was the prime commander for The League.”

Talyn winced at that stupidity. Huwin had been assassinated by his own son a decade ago. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. You see what I have to deal with? And here’s my quiz for you. Who’s Nemesis?”

“Rogue assassin wanted dead by The League, who, along with four others, leads The Sentella.”

He looked at his sons. “And that, my boys, is why you pay attention not only in school, but watch the news.” He held his glass out for more wine. “Seriously, I have got to get you into command. I can’t take the idiots there anymore. I’m over it.”

Felicia laughed. “You sound so much like Paka that it’s frightening.”

“I know, right? The very thing I swore I’d never be is what I morphed into the minute I had kids and took a command position. What was I thinking?”

Felicia shook her head playfully at his feigned angst.

As soon as they finished eating, Talyn led the boys to his gym. They stripped down to their pants while he showed them how to strap on the gloves and padded head protection. When he stripped down to his pants, their jaws dropped.

Gavarian laughed nervously as he scanned Talyn’s body with an envious stare. “I thought they doctored those pictures of you in the magazines. Shit, you’re ripped.”

“Gavarian!” Lorens snapped. “Watch your language!”

“But Paka … look at his body. How do you get that kind of definition?”

Talyn snorted as he finished putting his gloves on with his fangs. “I work out a lot, and you see what I eat. You willing?”

He looked down at his much smaller frame. Screwing his face up, he glanced to his brother. “We have noble titles for female magnets. We don’t need muscles. Marshmallow pecs and high lineage are the new ripped.”

Talyn rolled his eyes before he walked them to one of his training mannequins. “All right. Pointers. You don’t just start swinging. It’s not about power. It’s all control. Power without control is absolutely worthless. You don’t just throw a punch or kick. You have to know when to pull them, too.” He demonstrated by stopping his powerful blows just short of striking the dummy.

“How you do that?” Brach gasped.

“Like I said. Control. You have to be aware of every muscle in your body, every second you’re in a fight.” Talyn punched the dummy so hard, he lifted it up and rattled the chain. “Now, you try.” He stepped back for Gavarian to punch it.

Smirking, he did, and then cursed again. With a fierce frown, he cradled his hand to his chest. “Mommy! I think I broke my hand. How heavy is that thing?”

“Three hundred and twenty-five pounds. It’s what an average Zoftiq fighter weighs.”

They gaped again.

“Seriously? How did you move it?”