BITTERSWEET PART 3: ARMATA AND CALISTA

Armata / Levi

I stand there in the dim-lit hallway, the fading sound of her door slamming shut echoes like a verdict. I feel the rage boiling inside me, a storm of frustration and concern, all aimed at the reckless whirlwind named Calista.

I need to clear my head. The idea of taking her over my knee flashes across my mind—a visceral, inappropriate response that sets my teeth on edge. I crush the thought the moment it surfaces. What the hell is wrong with me? She’s my charge, not someone for me to reprimand, let alone in such a primal way.

I take a deep breath, trying to snuff out the fire, reminding myself that she is my responsibility, not a problem to be solved with the sharp edge of discipline. It’s a primal response, one that flashes bright and dangerous before I shove it away. It has no place here, not in my job, not with her.

God damn it.

I should be out there, scanning the perimeters, checking the shadows for threats, not babysitting a spoiled brat who has the death wish of a