BITTERSWEET PART 3: ARMATA AND CALISTA

Calista

I slam the door to the training room behind me, my heart pounding in a furious rhythm that matches the rage boiling in my veins. Levi—no, Armata, because that’s what he is, just a codename, a role, and nothing more—has crossed a line.

I can feel the phantom pressure of his hands on my wrists, the heat of his body too close to mine, and it ignites something within me that’s as close to pure fury as I’ve ever felt.

I should be used to this, to him. Levi, with his ever-changing moods and his methods that border on cruel, but last night, something shifted. We nearly kissed. The memory of his closeness, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine—it sends a shockwave through my system, and I’m pissed. Pissed because it means something, and even more because he’s acting like it means nothing.

I turn the water on, not bothering to test the temperature before I step under it. It’s hot enough to turn my skin pink, steaming up the shower stall, clouding the air, but it’s nothing compar