Souls Divided [Souls Series 1]

Chapter 4

Something in his shoulders dropped, fractionally — not surrender, more like someone acknowledging he was riled up and decided to become more rational and calm about it. Like he decided to drop some issue he probably had been carrying since before she arrived and approach the situation in the here and now.

"You misunderstand me, and I probably could have explained myself better." His voice had lost its edge, gone quieter instead, which was somehow worse. It gave Anya the feeling that whatever he was going to say next would make him be in the right, and somehow her be in the wrong all along. "This isn't about your family name, or what you have or haven't proven." A beat. "This is about the fact that a choice was made, without involving me. I have chosen everyone that works for me personally, from the core specialist team surrounding myself to the youngest recruit in the ground support team. I vetted them myself, trained and tested them. Watched them handle every situation I could possibly throw at them, watched them fail and get back up and succeed, before I ever signed off on them. This unit and their supporting teams are personal to me, not just procedure. I trust everyone under my command with my life."

He looked past her, briefly, at nothing in particular.

"You were placed here. By the Queen. By your grandmother. Before I ever got a say." His jaw worked once. "Maybe you're exactly as good as your file says. Probably better, if your confidence is any indication.” Tiny jab at her there, but she had become a bit riled up herself too, she feared. “But I didn't get to find that out myself — I got handed the conclusion and told to live with it. That's what I'm angry about. Not you."

It was, annoyingly, a fair point. Not one she'd expected from him, and not one she had a clean rebuttal for.

"That's fair," she said finally, and meant it, though she kept her chin level while she said it — this wasn't an apology, just an acknowledgment. "I didn't ask to be placed here over your objection either, for what it's worth. I don't love being someone's foregone conclusion any more than you like receiving one."

Something almost like respect flickered across his face, there and gone before either of them could make too much of it.

"Alright." He said it like a door closing, not slamming. "How about a compromise? You will train with me, my unit and the teams today and, as part of that, you will lead part of the training, like each of my unit is expected to be able to do. If, by the time the convoy arrives we have not killed each other yet, you’re on the team. Not because the Queen said so, but because I've now got eyes on you, and I'll make my own mind up from here, same as I would anyone else."

“I can live with that.” Anya stated, which she meant, she had felt an urge to move ever since she left the car and always enjoyed getting a chance to prove herself.

Behind him, the Delta shifted his weight, arms still crossed, but there was something almost amused in the way he tilted his head at her.

"So," he said, easy, unbothered, like the last five minutes hadn't happened. "…time to find out if you are really that good, or just good at talking?"

For the first time today Anya genuinely laughed, she could see the Delta was going to always be the one to stir things up, in a good way.

“Right!” For Rohan it seemed like that comment snapped him out of the headspace he was in and reminded him that they were not alone. “First things first, let me officially introduce you to the unit.”

Rohan gestured, short and economical, toward the woman first. "Freya Lindqvist. Beta." No elaboration, like the rank was supposed to say everything that mattered, which — Anya suspected — to him, it did.

"Logistics and field strategy," Freya added herself, since he clearly wasn't going to. Her voice was even, unhurried, the kind of calm that read as deliberate rather than passive. "Grew up and trained in the Northern packs, we plan our missions as methodically as the ice is cold." A beat, a wink and then a dry. "Pleasure."

"Vane Ashwood. Gamma." The lean one — not cold, she registered now that she looked properly, just quiet in a way that took up almost no room on purpose. He held her gaze a beat longer than a stranger normally would, like he wasn't just looking at her but actually wanted to understand her. So this time she let him feel her out, instead of blocking him again.

"You're tired," he said, mildly, not a question. "Older tired. Not from the drive."

It landed somewhere she hadn't braced for. "That obvious? Guess I always brace myself for these introductions, expecting the worst.” She smiled a bit, but did not want to reveal too much. She also hoped it gave a little bit of an explanation to Rohan and the unit that she wasn’t a hothead all the time, without making it seem like she actually felt a need to apologize.

"Not to most people." A small shrug, almost apologetic about it. "Comes with the job. Sorry — bad habit, reading a room before I've said hello properly." With that, he obviously was referring to how he had tried to feel her out earlier, and she had blocked him, without immediately exposing that ability of her to the rest. She appreciated that. Had always hated how Gammas tried to feel you out without consent or immediate need, just to gain an advantage in the conversation. He offered a hand this time, like he was correcting himself in real time. "Good to have you."

"And Malik Osei." Rohan's voice shifted, just slightly, on that name — less rank, more familiarity, the kind reserved for someone who'd earned it over years rather than tests. "Delta." Felt like Rohan was closer to him, compared to the rest, maybe he knew him the longest, maybe Malik had trained him before he had become his Delta… just another thing Anya stored on her list of things she would figure out later.

Rohan had gone quiet again during the introductions — not rude, just somewhere else, the particular stillness of a man doing math about things he couldn't say out loud in front of a new recruit.

Vane caught it first, the way he seemed to catch most things. He didn't say anything directly — just glanced at Malik, one eyebrow up a fraction, a whole conversation passing between them in under a second.

Malik took the cue like he'd been waiting for it. "Careful, Alpha," he said, entirely too cheerful, clapping Rohan once on the shoulder hard enough to make a point. "You keep brooding like that and the new girl's going to think we recruited you off a perfume ad."

"I don't brood."

"You're doing it right now. I can see the thoughts. They're very serious. Very tortured. Very dramatic." Oh, Malik was definitely the one that probably got away with most in this team, regarding Rohan, that was likely why Vane signaled him.

"I was thinking about logistics."

"Sure you were. Isn’t that Freya’s job?" Malik didn't drop it, clearly enjoying himself now, and Vane's mouth had gone from neutral to the faintest hint of amusement without a single word — the two of them working the moment like they'd likely done it a hundred times before.

Rohan exhaled through his nose, something that wasn't quite a laugh but was standing close enough to hear one. "Are we done?"

"Never," Malik said, cheerful and entirely unbothered, before turning back to Anya like the interruption of introductions had never happened. "Obstacle course, or do you want to hit something first? Some people need to get the talking out of their fists before they can think straight."

“And you think you can handle that conversation? Old man…” Anya just knew she could take that jab at him.

“I am the best conversationalist to have, in that regard.” He winked and wriggled his eyebrows.

That got the first real, unguarded laugh out of Freya – like there was a joke there Anya was not privy to. “Don’t mind my mate, he loves stirring up trouble.” Oh, that was definitely something that was kept out of the records. But Anya loved the pairing, could see what the goddess Selene had intended to do there.

“Let's do the obstacle course first; I feel like I need to move after that long drive.”