General and I

HEAT AND SHADOWS

The sun was merciless that morning.

It blazed above the camp like a fiery witness, watching every soul on the training field move through the punishment that tested their limits and pride. Dust rose with each step, sticking to sweaty faces and arms. The air shimmered with heat dry, heavy, unrelenting.

Leah’s fingers were blistered. Her throat burned from thirst, but she didn’t stop. She and Natasha had been ordered to scrub the entire training ground platform the one made of rough wooden planks as part of their punishment. It was absurd work under such heat, yet Leah didn’t complain. Her body trembled, but her eyes held the same quiet defiance she’d worn since the day she arrived.

Ann stood nearby under the shade of a canopy, arms folded, a satisfied smirk playing on her glossy lips. Her friends whispered and laughed, pretending to look away whenever Leah passed. To Ann, this was justice watching the girl she couldn’t stand reduced to sweat and dirt.

But if Ann had looked closely, she would’ve seen something else entirely something dangerous.

Because while Leah suffered under the sun, two pairs of eyes were fixed on her from the shadows of the observation tower.

One belonged to General Damien Cole, the man whose authority weighed heavier than the sun itself. The other, General Zach Parker, his longtime rival and occasional friend, who leaned against the railing, pretending to enjoy the view.

“She’s got spirit,” Zach said, voice low but tinged with curiosity. “Not many recruits would last an hour doing this. Most would faint before they hit halfway.”

Damien didn’t reply. His jaw tightened. His eyes never left Leah. He watched the way she wiped sweat from her forehead, how she stumbled, caught herself, and kept going. There was no self-pity in her movements only raw endurance.

Zach continued, pushing. “I saw her at the party. Hard to forget a face like that. She’s not like the others quiet, but sharp.”

Damien’s tone was clipped. “She’s a soldier. Nothing more.”

Zach smirked. “You’re watching her like she’s more than that.”

That earned him a glare sharp enough to slice air. Zach chuckled and held up his hands. “Relax, Cole. I’m just saying what anyone with eyes can see.”

Damien didn’t answer. His focus was back on Leah on her fragile frame bending under weight, yet refusing to break.

He didn’t like this feeling. The way his chest tightened every time she stumbled. The way his throat went dry seeing her hands tremble. It was ridiculous. She was just another recruit. A stubborn, reckless, frustrating one.

Yet he couldn’t walk away.

By noon, Leah could barely feel her legs. Natasha, beside her, was pale but still working. “We’ve got this,” Natasha muttered, forcing a smile. “Just a little more, Leah.”

Leah nodded weakly. She’d long since stopped caring about Ann’s mocking glances. Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, but she refused to stop I can’t afford weakness, she told herself again and again. Not when Maya’s depending on me.

Her vision blurred for a second. The ground tilted slightly. She pressed her palms on her knees, breathing hard.

From the tower, Damien moved before he even realized it.

“Keep them hydrated,” he ordered curtly, startling Zach. “Tell the sergeant to bring water down there. Now.”

Zach raised a brow, amused. “Soft heart, General?”

“Command decision,” Damien said flatly. “They’re soldiers, not corpses.”

Minutes later, a soldier jogged to Leah’s side, handing her a bottle.

“General’s order,” he said simply.

Leah blinked in confusion but didn’t argue. She gulped down the water greedily, half of it spilling down her chin. The cool liquid felt like heaven. Natasha patted her back, grinning weakly.

Under the shade, Ann’s smirk faltered.

When the punishment finally ended, the sun was beginning to dip its color turning gold and red, casting long shadows across the field. Leah’s arms were trembling. Her knees scraped, palms raw. But when the sergeant dismissed them, she still managed to stand straight and salute.

That was the moment Damien decided to step forward.

He descended from the tower slowly, his boots crunching against gravel. The chatter in the field died instantly. Every soldier straightened, the air thickening with discipline. Even Ann’s painted smile faded.

Damien stopped in front of Leah. His shadow fell over her tall, commanding, unreadable.

“You seem to enjoy being punished, soldier,” he said coolly.

Leah met his eyes, exhausted but defiant. “No, sir.”

“Then perhaps you should avoid situations that lead to them.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a pause long enough for everyone to feel the tension humming between them. Natasha shifted nervously beside her. Zach, still under the tower, watched with faint intrigue.

Damien’s gaze softened just barely. He lowered his voice, only loud enough for Leah to hear.

“Drink water. Rest. You’ll report to training at dawn.”

Leah hesitated, then nodded. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you enjoy punishing me, General.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Damien’s face she’d never dared such words before. But instead of anger, his lips curved in the faintest ghost of a smile.

“If I didn’t know better,” he said quietly, “I’d say you enjoy surviving it, Soldier.”

Leah blinked, stunned. Before she could respond, he turned away, his cape catching the wind as he walked off toward headquarters.

Zach watched him go, an unreadable smirk playing on his lips. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Very interesting.”

And somewhere behind them, Ann’s nails dug into her palm, the pretty smile finally gone.

That night, long after lights-out, Leah lay awake on her bunk staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying his words.

You enjoy surviving it.

She didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand herself. But one thing was certain in this camp , nothing would ever stay simple again.

The night breeze was colder than usual.

It brushed past the barracks, carrying faint murmurs, laughter from distant quarters, and the restless silence of those who couldn’t sleep.

Leah turned on her cot again, the thin blanket tangled around her legs. Every muscle in her body ached. Her palms still stung from the day’s punishment, but what truly kept her awake wasn’t pain it was him.

Damien Cole.

The man who could command an army without raising his voice… yet somehow made her heart race with a single look.

She didn’t understand it. Why did she care that he’d told her to rest? Why did his words sound almost… human?didn’t she always hated him?why the suddenly admiration for him?, must have been cos he helped her out when she’s drunk,or she’s probably still drunk .

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could block the sound of his voice echoing in her head. “No,” she whispered to herself. “He’s just my superior. Nothing more.”

But deep down, Leah knew her world was shifting slowly, dangerously.

Across camp, in the officers’ lounge, Zach leaned against the balcony rail with a drink in hand. The stars reflected faintly in his glass as he chuckled to himself.

“Still thinking about the recruit?” Miller asked from the doorway.

Zach didn’t turn around. “Recruit? No. Just wondering what it takes to get under Damien Cole’s skin.”

Mason frowned. “You think she has?”

“I know she has,” Zach said, swirling the liquid. “You saw how he looked at her today the great General Cole, losing focus over a slip of a girl. It’s… amusing.”

He downed the drink, the sound of ice clinking against glass echoing softly in the quiet night.

Meanwhile, in another part of the camp, Ann wasn’t asleep either.

Her fingers drummed against the edge of her bed as she stared at the ceiling. The image of Damien defending Leah giving her water, her attention replayed in her mind like a cruel loop.

“She’s nothing,” Ann hissed under her breath. “Nothing but a desperate little beggar.”

Her roommate stirred but said nothing everyone knew better than to cross Ann when she was like this.

Ann sat up, eyes cold, smile bitter. “Let’s see how long she lasts once the right words reach the wrong ears.”