Authors note: Thank you all for your amazing reviews, I really appreciate them!

I apologize if I get any information wrong in my story (Military wise), I have never been to a military academy, and therefore not all of my information is going to be correct. Keep in mind that this is fiction and all of these ideas come from my brain. So please, if you notice a mistake…just ignore it.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

-Breanna

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to Richelle Mead.

The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by Ms. Belikov. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.

I awoke to the most ear piercing sound.

"Is that a fucking trumpet?" I grumbled to myself.

Groggily, I looked over to the alarm clock. Blaring red letters stared back at me.

6:15 AM.

"You have to be fucking kidding me."

The sound got louder and more annoying—considering I no longer had a door, it had to be much worse for me than the other students.

No way in hell I was getting up this early. I tried to drown out the sound by stuffing the pillow and blankets over my head.

"Miss Hathaway," a deep voice accented voice said.

Oh, fuck me sideways.

I froze on the spot; maybe he would still think I was asleep and leave me alone…

"Miss Hathaway," the Devil repeated, only much firmer this time. "Don't try to fool me. I know you are awake, I can tell by your erratic breathing."

"Go away," I groaned, snuggling further into my bed.

Suddenly, I felt a cold breeze as the blankets were ripped from me.

"Hey!" I yelled.

Dimitri stood there smiling dryly. He had on the same uniform he wore yesterday—A black cotton t-shirt, olive green army pants, and leather combat boots.

And, sure enough, a gold trumpet in one hand.

"Miss Hathaway, you're fifteen minutes late. Your fellow cadets have already eaten breakfast, dressed in their appropriate uniforms, and are out on the field."

"I thought we didn't have to do anything for another week! Alberta said so herself!"

"Sergeant Alberta Petrov," he corrected sternly. "And she informed you that you didn't have to attend class. You still have physical tests all this week."

He grinned at my shocked expression.

"Now let's go. You should have been ready and out there twenty minutes ago."

"Alright," I groaned reluctantly. "Get out so I can get dressed first."

"You have thirty seconds." Dimitri stood in that familiar statued pose, with his arms crossed behind his back.

"What?" I shrieked.

"Now you have 20 seconds,"

"You have to be shitting me! How am I supposed to get dressed, brush my teeth, and eat breakfast in twenty damn seconds?"

He looked at his watch. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1…Times up. I'm done being patient."

Dimitri swiftly leaned forward and grasped me by the ankles.

"Let go, you bastard!" I screamed a kicked.

He yanked me towards him and off the bed. I landed on the ground with a loud thump that knocked the air out of me.

While I lay there gasping desperately for oxygen, he drug me to the non-existent door and towards the hallway.

I wasn't going out with a fight.

I clawed and finally struggled to grab onto my bed post.

I would have thought this situation was funny if had been happening to anyone besides my self.

I was on my stomach holding onto the bed post for dear life like a frightened child, while Dimitri was on his feet, grabbing my legs and pulling on them with all his might.

My arms and hands ached in protest, yet, I continued to fight and scream because the stubborn part of my brain told me so.

"I'm in my Pajamas, no way I'm going out there in shorts and a tank top!" I screamed.

Suddenly, the bedpost started to give. With a loud screeching noise—much like a piece of chalk being dragged down a chalk board—it began moving as Dimitri pulled the bed towards the door.

"Please, General Belikov!" I cried desperately. "I haven't even had breakfast yet! I'm starving!"

"That's why you should have eaten earlier when it was breakfast time, now you have to wait until lunch." He growled.

I dragged the bed all the way until it reached the door, and got jammed to where it couldn't move anymore. The odds weren't looking so good for me right now.

To my utter horror, he pried my greedy hands from the metal, picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" I roared.

I punched and kicked and scratched, but Dimitri ignored me as if I wasn't there and continued to walk.

After a few moments of useless attacks, I gave up and lay slump against his shoulder.

"You're a real asshole? You know that?"

Yeah, it probably wasn't the best idea to talk to my hierarchies like that—especially the general, but I was getting desperate and verbal abuse was my best option.

Dimitri didn't say anything.

I expected him to have my bed removed, or my food taken away—something disastrous like that. But he didn't, he continued to walk and hum to a song I'd never heard before.

"So you're from Russia?" I asked. Surprisingly, I went from absolutely furious to trying to make conversation with this guy.

I was met my silence. And not that good kind of silence, that kind that makes it incredibly uncomfortable and hard to breathe.

Why was I trying to talk to him? He was an asshole. He took both my doors away. He was arrogant. I hated him. I was being hauled away on his shoulder!

Yet, a part of me was drawn to him…and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.

"What part are you from?" I asked.

"What makes you think I'm Russian?" Dimitri shattered the silence.

"Your accent," I shrugged, which was kind of a strange move to do in my current position.

"I have an accent?" he peered up at me and raised an eyebrow in amusement.

I nodded. "A pretty distinctive one,"

"Maybe to you," Dimitri slammed open a glass door. "But to me, I don't have one…It's you who have the accent."

I giggled. I actually giggled.

I blushed and looked away embarrassed.

I discovered we were outside. The huge field was covered in lush green grass, trees, and…mud.

True to his word, my fellow cadets were out in the field wearing their appropriate uniforms. They were identical to our hierarchies and I suddenly felt extremely under dressed. I really should have gotten up earlier.

"Son of a bitch," I gasped, after Dimitri had dropped me onto the hard ground.

"Suck it up, and soldier on!"

"What the hell was that for?" I stood on my feet and brushed the grass off my knees.

"Miss Hathaway," his tone ice cold. "That type of behavior will not be tolerated, now, go line up with your fellow cadets. I will call your name when it's your turn."

With another hard glance cast my way, he turned on his heel and stomped away. He went up to the front and stood among Alberta, Tasha and—ugh—Stan.

I stood there frozen in shock.

Dimitri's sudden change in behavior was like a light switch being turned off. Merely seconds ago, he was talking to me like a normal person…he was almost being nice.

But once we stood outside, and around other people, his warm brown eyes went guarded and emotionless.

It reminded me of the way he treated me on the bus yesterday.

"Hello," a voice broke me out of my trance. I tilted my head to see a kid with fire red hair, freckles, and baby blue eyes.

"Hello," I gave a curt nod and shoved my hands into the pockets of my shorts.

"No!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"What?" I looked around cautiously.

"You must never, EVER, put your hands into your pockets." He said.

"Why?" I quickly ripped them out.

"Because it's a sign of disrespect to our hierarchies, they find it extremely unmannerly. It's against the rules and the Honor code."

"Oops," I shrugged. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind."

"Is there anything else you need?" I asked after he stared at my face long enough to make me squirm uncomfortably.

"My name is Mason Ashford," he released a breathtaking smile and shook my hand. "I've been here at St. Augustine's for three years now."

"I'm Rose."

"Rose what?" Mason asked. He stood in perfect poise formation beside me, his chin high and shoulders straight—almost as if he wasn't having a conversation with me at all.

"Hathaway."

I heard his sharp in take of breath. "You have to be kidding me."

"Does it sound like I'm joking?"

"Hathaway?...as in Janine Hathaway?"

My jerked to the right involuntary. "How do you know my mother?"

I was distantly aware of Dimitri's voice calling out last names.

Brown, Clark, Davis, Evans, Harris…

"She's a legend!" Mason exclaimed, excitement evident in his tone. "She was the class of 89' I believe..."

"Really?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Yes, how do you not know all of this stuff?" He questioned. "Your mother was top rank in the air force…people talk about her all of the time here. I'm surprised Janine hasn't said anything about it to you."

"My mother and I were never very close." I shrugged.

Mason nodded solemnly. "She was top rank, I find that very inspiring…I wish I could get the chance to meet her one day."

"Trust me," I laughed sarcastically. "You're better off with that woman out of your life."

I patted my pockets.

"Shit," I muttered.

"What's wrong?" Mason asked curiously.

"Forgot my inhaler back in my room," I answered. "I left it on accident because I was in a hurry this morning."

I stared evilly at Dimitri who was jotting down something on his clipboard.

"Asshole." I hissed under my breath.

"You have asthma?" The blood drained from Mason's face.

"Is that a problem?"

"Yes," he scoffed. "How bad is your asthma?"

"Moderate to severe," I shrugged. "But as long as I have my inhaler, I should be alright."

"I don't know how you possibly enrolled into this school with asthma," Mason shook his head in disbelief. "99.9% of applications get denied because of that medical condition. I'm just surprised that's all."

"Well, what they don't know won't hurt them." I chuckled.

His eyes widened as big as saucers. "You mean you haven't told them?"

"Nope."

"That's serious Rose…you can get into a lot of trouble because of it."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Hathaway!" that deep accented voice barked.

I gave Mason a small friendly wave and jogged over to where Dimitri stood.

"Sir, whatcha' got for me?" I gave a salute.

"You're doing it wrong, it's the right hand, not the left."

I quickly corrected my mistake.

"Very well," he nodded approvingly and lead me over to an empty spot out on the field.

"I want you to start out by stretching your arms and legs out, twenty count each."

"Piece of cake."

I quickly did as he said without breaking a sweat.

"Alright get down on the ground."

I waggled my eyebrows. "I usually don't get to third base until the second date…but this is moving fast, and I sort of like it."

I lay down on the ground as he commanded.

"Miss Hathaway," Dimitri narrowed his eyes. "That is inappropriate behavior that will not be tolerated; I've added an extra mile to your run and 50 additional push ups."

"That's bullshit!" I protested. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Want to make it three extra miles and 100 additional push ups?"

I growled and shook my head. "No."

"Very well," he held up his watch. "55 crunches, you have two minutes...starting, NOW!"

I went as fast as I could, I thought I was doing well at first but once I got half way done the muscles in my stomach began aching.

"It burns!" I gasped breathless.

Dimitri ignored me.

"48, 49, 50…come on Rose, you have less than five seconds left. HURRY UP!"

One thing I'd learned about Dimitri in the past 24 hours I'd known him…he tended to yell allot.

"Not good enough, Hathaway, try again." He shook his head.

"I was only one second off!...Come on, be cool and let it slide. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal. Now, GO!"

Finally, after four more unsuccessful attempts, I finally got the technique correct and on time.

"My muscles feel like they are on fire!" I whined.

A small smirk twitched at his lips. "Well you're going to feel much worse tomorrow."

"Another thing to improve my day, thanks." I muttered.

"Alright now you're going to do a count of 25 leg lifts." Dimitri demonstrated the move gracefully, and I couldn't help but notice how sexy he looked doing it with the sweat glistening off his neck—

"Miss Hathaway?" He was now standing directly in front of me.

"Whoops, sorry…I was day dreaming there for a second."

"Alright," he eyed me like I'd grown a third eye. "Just try and stay with me this time, and no spacing out. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir!"

So for the next hour, I did countless push ups, pull ups, jumping jacks, and…

"Four fucking miles, in less than 28 minutes? How is that humanely possible?" I complained.

"It is possible," he pointed out. "Do you want me to make it five?"

I lowered my head in defeat. "No."

"Well get going then, I started your time over two minutes ago."

"WHAT?" I shrieked and took off running as fast I could.

"I can't go any more, it's getting hard for me to breathe." By now I was crawling on my hands and knees on the track.

All the students had finished there fitness tests and were standing in perfect posture by one another, watching me.

"It's 11pm, Hathaway, you've held your fellow cadets from having their lunch. They are not able to leave until you have finished. So, I suggest you pick up the pace and finish this…unless you would like to complete another four miles? I've got all day."

"But I've already ran eleven miles!" I yelled.

"And it's about to be another four unless you pick up your pace!" Dimitri barked.

That did it. No way in hell I was running an additional four miles. I stood on my feet and pushed my screaming muscles to the max.

"One lap, Hathaway, and 2 minutes left. Pick it up!"

I felt my stamina dropping rapidly.

I was almost there…

"15 seconds!"

I sprinted and collapsed against the finish line.

"Job well done," Dimitri hovered above me.

"Thanks." I gave an exhausted smile.

"Ready to go eat?"

I nodded.

I screamed in agony as Dimitri grabbed my hand and yanked me onto my feet.

"Mother f—"

My words were cut off as he narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at me.

"Old habits die hard," I smiled sweetly. "Sorry, Sir."

"Go stand by your fellow cadets."

I nodded and limped painfully over to Mason.

His crooked smile made me laugh.

"Good job, Hathaway." He whispered.

"Thanks, Ashford." I couldn't help but feel a little smug.

Just then, Dimitri's voice boomed through the crowd. He didn't need a microphone to be heard, his deep voice was loud and authoritative enough that everyone perked up to listen to what he had to say.

"Respect is big matter here at St. Augustine's academy. Myself, and your hierarchies will teach you self control and self discipline. You may hate us at times, but I assure you that you will thank us in the future and be grateful to have enrolled here at the academy."

Dimitri paused to take a deep breath.

"I want to congratulate you all on a successful field test—though it did take some longer than others…"

His dark browns eyes flickered over to me for a moment.

"Don't get comfortable, because today's activities may have been easy—"

Easy?

"But things are about to get much harder, so be prepared for it. You are here by Dismissed."

After my field test, I went back to my room and had a much needed shower. I discovered my appropriate uniform folded neatly in my dresser, and although it wasn't the hottest outfit to wear, it was much better than the pajamas I'd been wearing.

I slipped on the white button-up blouse, navy blue skirt and jacket, matching hat, and black flats.

Sadly, the jacket didn't have any badges on it because I had just started at the academy.

Soon, I will. I thought.

I made sure to take my inhaler with me this time.

Mason came by my room a few moments later and kindly offered to show me around the Mess hall.

"Anything that involves a mess?...I'm in." I interlocked my arm with his but he quickly pulled away.

"What's wrong?" I felt somewhat rejected, and it wasn't a good feeling.

"Uh," he scratched the back of his neck nervously, and looked around the hallway cautiously. "Female and male cadets aren't really supposed to do stuff like that..."

"Like touching?" I asked confused.

He nodded.

"You have got to be kidding me...th-that's absurd. Awful. Cruel. Harsh...Evil."

"Evil?" he chuckled. "Isn't that a bit melodramatic?"

"Of course not...if anything, I am being too calm and passive about this issue."

"It's nothing really." he opened a door.

"Is this the cafeteria?" I asked.

"Mess hall," he corrected me. "Everyone calls it a mess hall...Cafeteria is old school."

I rolled my eyes.

"So what are we having today, Ashford?"

He pointed towards a chalkboard with words scribbled hastily across it. "Pizza, salad, brownies...and your choice of a drink."

"Yum."

I stacked my tray full of everything I possibly could—two slices of Pizza, three brownies, and a can of ice cold coke.

Mason raised an eyebrow at this. "Seriously?"

"What?" I asked defensively.

"There is not one healthy thing on your tray...Hell, you even skipped the salad."

I shrugged. "There's vegetables in my meal."

"Where?...I honestly don't see them."

"It's because you're not looking hard enough, Mase. See the pizza?...there's a type of red sauce in there that contains tomatoes."

He rolled his eyes. We took our seats at an empty bench in the back of the room.

"Here," he placed a red apple into my palm. "This will help me sleep better at night knowing you have something healthy in your system."

I laughed.

And that's when the most genius idea popped into my head.

"Oh my god, Mase," I squealed with excitement. "Get ready to laugh...get ready to laugh."

I stood up on the table—effectively getting the attention of students sitting at near by tables.

I grasped the apple in my hand, and pulled out the stem like you would the pin of a grenade.

"GRENADE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs and launched the apple across the room.

In perfect unison, every person in the cafeteria yelled. "Take cover!" And dove under their seats.

It was amazing really.

I didn't actually believe they'd take my joke as a serious threat.

A few moments later, Dimitri stomped up to me holding the red apple.

"What is the meaning of this?" he growled.

Damn, to say he looked pissed would be an understatement.

I suddenly didn't think my joke was so funny anymore.