General and I

DISCIPLINE AND DESIRE

The morning light spilled through the tall windows of the main administration building, casting long shadows across the polished floor. General Damien Cole sat behind his wide mahogany desk, his expression calm but his mind far from it.

His pen tapped rhythmically against a folder of reports, yet his thoughts were elsewhere replaying the image of the girl who refused to bend, the one whose strength had quietly unsettled him.

He had spent most of the night trying to erase her from his mind, but it hadn’t worked. No amount of paperwork or military order could silence the memory of her face, streaked with determination and exhaustion, refusing to quit.

A knock on the door pulled him back to the present.

“Come in,” he said.

The door opened, and Lieutenant Mason Holt stepped in, his posture sharp and professional. He was young, loyal, and driven one of the few people Damien trusted implicitly.

“Sir,” Mason saluted. “I have your morning updates and… a message from your mother.”

Damien groaned softly, leaning back in his chair. “What now?”

“She’s been calling you since dawn, sir,” Mason replied carefully. “She asked me to remind you that Miss Ann Parker is currently in the training camp, and she would like you to, quote, ‘keep an eye on her.’”

Damien arched a brow, his tone dry. “Keep an eye on her? What does she think this place is a daycare?”

Mason hesitated. “Ma’am sounded… insistent, sir.”

Damien sighed and stood, pacing toward the large window overlooking the field. “Of course she did.”

He could almost hear his mother’s voice now soft, elegant, persuasive always trying to tie him into one of her social plans. Ann’s such a lovely girl, Damien. Her mother and I already discussed…

He stopped the thought before it could finish. “I swear,” he muttered, “if this is another attempt to ship me off into one of her arranged ideas of romance, I might just resign.”

Mason tried and failed to hide a smirk. “Rumor does say Miss Ann has been… vocal about her admiration for you, sir.”

Damien turned, his expression unimpressed. “Admiration?”

Mason straightened. “Yes, sir. She’s been telling people she intends to marry you.”

Damien’s eyes narrowed. “Marry me?” He shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. “That girl loves nothing more than testing my patience. She’s here for attention, not discipline.”

He moved back to his desk, grabbed a document, then paused. “Tell Sergeant Louis I’ll be taking over the recruits’ field training tomorrow. I want to see firsthand what kind of soldiers we’re building.”

Mason saluted crisply. “Yes, sir.”

As the lieutenant turned to leave, Damien added, “And Mason—”

“Sir?”

“ next time, my mother calls, tell her I’m halfway across the continent.”

Mason smiled faintly. “Understood, sir.”

When he left, Damien exhaled, rubbing his temple. It was going to be a long day and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was already looking forward to tomorrow’s training.

Across the base, the recruits were in their dorms. The night before had been brutal, and Leah Sanders could barely move.

She lay flat on her bunk, staring at the ceiling, every muscle aching from the previous day’s punishment. The broom calluses on her palms stung, her shoulders throbbed, and her legs felt like lead.

The dinner from last night sat untouched on her bedside table. She had barely managed a few bites before exhaustion consumed her.

Now, as dawn light filtered through the small window, she let out a soft sigh. “So much for eight thousand dollars a month,” she muttered weakly. “I’m not sure I’ll even make it through the week.”

Natasha rolled over in the bed beside hers, half-asleep. “Stop talking and rest. Tomorrow’s going to be worse.”

Leah groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

But deep down, she knew Natasha was right. This was only the beginning.

She turned to face the window, where the camp lights still flickered faintly against the breaking dawn. Somewhere beyond those walls, her sister was waking up in a hospital bed, waiting for her. That thought alone kept her breathing, kept her from collapsing completely.

By the time the whistle blew, the field buzzed with nervous energy. The recruits lined up, murmuring under their breath.

Leah sat on the ground, massaging her legs, trying to ease the dull ache that hadn’t left since yesterday. Natasha stretched beside her.

“You’ll be fine,” Natasha said. “We survived yesterday; we’ll survive today.”

Leah chuckled softly. “You sound so confident.”

Natasha smirked. “Fake it till it works.”

But then the chatter around them changed.

A group of girls suddenly squealed near the front line. “Oh my God,he’s so cute ?” one whispered.

“Is that him? He’s so handsome!” another breathed.

Leah frowned and turned and her heart skipped a beat.

Across the field, a group of officers was approaching. At the center of them was a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark uniform, his stride steady, his gaze cold but magnetic. His medals gleamed under the morning sun, and the aura around him was unmistakable

Leah’s breath caught. it was him the man from the other night. The one who had found her crying in the shadows.

Around her, whispers spread like wildfire.

“He’s even more handsome in person.”

“I think I’m in love already.”

“Ann said she knows him maybe they’re together?”

Leah’s pulse quickened, but she said nothing.

Ann, on the other hand, didn’t wait. The moment Damien reached the front, she straightened her posture, smoothed her hair, and began walking toward him with a confident smile.

“Good morning, General Cole—”

Before she could finish, Damien’s voice cut through the air calm but sharp.

“Recruit, who gave you permission to break formation?”

The words froze her mid-step. The other girls fell silent instantly.

Ann’s face turned crimson. “I-I was just—”

“Ten laps,” Damien said flatly. “And next time, learn to recognize your superior before addressing him.”

Ann’s jaw dropped. “But—”

“Make that fifteen laps,” he added without looking at her.

Ann swallowed her protest and stormed off toward the track, glaring at Leah as she passed as if Leah were somehow to blame.

Damien scanned the rest of the recruits, his expression unreadable. “If you’re here to daydream, go home. This is not a place for fantasies. You’re here to become soldiers, not storytellers.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Now,” he said, his voice softer but no less commanding. “At ease.”

The recruits relaxed slightly, shifting into less rigid stances. Leah, standing in the second row, looked up just as Damien’s gaze swept across them and for a brief moment, their eyes met.

It felt like the world went still.

She quickly looked down, heart pounding. Don’t stare. Don’t make eye contact.

But curiosity got the better of her. She glanced up again, her gaze tracing the sharp lines of his uniform, the badges gleaming on his chest, the stars on his shoulders. There was no mistaking it now. He wasn’t just a soldier. He was the General.

And she hadn’t even saluted him properly that night.

God, I’m doomed, she thought, swallowing hard.

Damien, meanwhile, was doing his best not to stare too long but he couldn’t help himself. There she was again, standing among hundreds, yet she was the only one who seemed to draw his attention without trying.

“Teams,” he ordered at last. “You’ll train in units of five. Sergeant Louis will distribute the assignments.”

The recruits scrambled into their groups. Ann, breathless and red-faced from her laps, shot a dark look at Leah, who stood quietly with Natasha and the others.

Damien folded his arms. “Today’s focus: endurance and weapon handling.”

At the mention of weapons, several recruits tensed. Rows of large rifles lay on the tables nearby heavy and imposing.

“These,” Damien continued, “are not toys. They are extensions of your strength and discipline. If you can’t control them, they will control you.”

Leah hesitated before picking one up. The metal was cold and heavier than she expected. She tried to steady her grip, but her arms trembled slightly.

“Sanders,” Damien said suddenly.

Her head snapped up. “Y-yes, sir?”

He stepped closer, eyes sharp. “That’s not how you hold it. You’ll lose balance.”

Leah adjusted her stance nervously. “Like this, sir?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He just studied her the faint tremor in her hands, the way she bit her lip in concentration.

“Better,” he said finally, his tone lower. “But you need to focus.”

Leah nodded, her cheeks burning. “Yes, sir.”

Behind them, Ann watched, her hands tightening into fists.

Damien moved down the line, instructing others, but his attention kept drifting back to Leah. Every time she lifted the rifle, he noticed the strain in her shoulders the effort, the determination, and the quiet frustration when it almost slipped.

He wanted to step forward, to guide her hand, to tell her to rest but he couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

He had to remind himself who he was and who she was.

Still, when the weapon nearly fell from her grip, his body reacted before his mind did. He took a step forward, catching himself just in time.

“Maintain focus!” he barked instead, masking the instinct to help. “If you drop that weapon again, you’ll redo the entire drill!”

Leah flinched slightly, her throat tight. “Yes, sir.”

She blinked rapidly, fighting the sting in her eyes. The day’s heat mixed with exhaustion, and for a moment, her vision blurred.

Damien noticed immediately. The trembling, the slight redness in her eyes.

“Enough,” he said suddenly, his voice softer. “That’s all for now.”

The soldiers frozen . the General never stopped training early.

Damien turned toward Sergeant Louis. “Dismiss the units.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the recruits dispersed, Leah set down her rifle and exhaled shakily. Her eyes still glistened from unshed tears.

From across the field, Damien watched her his expression unreadable, his chest tight.

He didn’t know what frustrated him more her fragility, or the way she somehow made him feel every ounce of it.

And for the first time in years, the unshakable General found himself standing in the middle of his own battlefield one where discipline and emotion were no longer on the same side.