Not In This Lifetime Ch. 02

He turned to Mile suddenly and slammed his back against the nearest tree. Mile winced at the impact. Symond reached down and grabbed his jaw, forcing the younger man to look up at him.

"Grow the fuck up, Mile Domarc. Do I look like I'm fucking around?"

Mile grimaced and sputtered out, "don't fucking call me that name."

"Mile. Domarc."

Symond closed his eyes and sighed when he felt the younger man's spit hit his face. Without a thought, he backhanded Mile across the face, causing the other to slump back against the tree and slide to the ground, stunned. Symond shook his head and pulled a handkerchief from his front coat pocket to wipe his face before looking down at Mile. The younger man was looking up at him, appearing bewildered. It dawned on Symond that he'd probably never been hit for being a petulant little shit before, being royalty. And then he realized that he'd slapped the shit out of one of the king's sons -- fuck. Symond hoped that, given the circumstances, the transgression would go unpunished.

Mile said nothing. He was breathing heavily and still staring up at the officer. Symond had dealt with many a rebel throughout the past few months and he had a tendency to strike fear into them -- especially the younger soldiers -- as he was an intimidating man, both in his physique and his attitude. But as he looked down at Mile he saw no fear in his expression. He didn't even see the anger the young man had been spewing prior. He looked down into his face and he saw -- was that longing? Desire? Surely not.

Now Symond was taken aback. He blinked and stepped back from Mile. In an instant Mile was on his feet and sprinting down the hill to the town. Symond was about to jump into gear and pursue him, but he hesitated. Instead he stood back and watched the young rebel flee.

"Until next time, Mile Domarc."