Escaping the Cold Commander

My fingers dug into the tangled sheets. I turned my head, my breathing fractured. "What brand did you grab?

I can barely feel it." Gideon drove his hips forward, pinning me to the mattress.

His chest heaved against my bare back. "I didn't use one," he said, his voice a low, rough scrape. "Let me stay inside a little longer.

The joint exercises are killing me." If anyone else on base saw this, their jaws would hit the floor. Out there, he was the untouchable, ironwilled Commander.

They didn't know his only release valve was stripping down to skin and sweat, burying himself in his executive officer until he couldn't think. But tonight was the end of the line.

I chased Gideon's shadow for a decade. He never actually looked back. Then Gemma transferred in, his shiny new rookie.

He actually cornered me into handing over the Silver Star I bled for, just to pad her service record. "You only enlisted to stay close to me anyway." He had said it so casually, right to my face. "Once Gemma gets her footing on base, I'll file the paperwork and we can get married." My lips twisted into a hollow smile in the dark.

Ten years of loving him. Walking away only took a heartbeat. Chapter 1 "General, I'm volunteering for the northern border deployment.

Put my name on the roster." I slid the signed transfer request across the heavy wooden desk.

The General stared at the paper, his brow furrowing. "Wren, aren't you and Commander Gideon getting married next month?

Why the sudden transfer to the freezing edge of nowhere?" My nails dug into the seams of my trousers. "Just sign it, sir." Everyone on base thought I’d finally cracked the icecold tactical genius.

Ten years of trailing his shadow, and I had the ring to prove it. But Gideon didn't propose out of love. He proposed out of a life debt.

Two months ago, his unit was ambushed behind enemy lines. I defied direct orders, led a rogue strike team into the hot zone, and caught the bullet meant for his chest.

The shrapnel stopped three centimeters from my heart. I bled out on a field hospital operating table for ten hours.

When I finally dragged my eyes open, Gideon was slumped beside my cot.

His eyes were heavily bloodshot. "When we get back," his voice was a raw scrape, "I'm filing the marriage paperwork." I knew it was guilt.

But I took the ring anyway, desperate enough to lock him down with a life debt just to keep my place beside him. I could have lied to myself for the rest of my life.

Until Gemma showed up. Outside the command center, the giant monitor broadcasted a live feed from the international joint military exercises.

A group of junior officers clustered around it. "Look! It's Commander Gideon and Strategist Gemma!" "They move totally in sync.

I heard the Commander is actually letting her take the lead on this tactical simulation." The chatter buzzed in my ears like static.

The whole base practically worshipped the ground they walked on. Barely anyone remembered I was his official fiancée. I stared at the screen. They stood shouldertoshoulder.

Gideon enforced a strict twofoot buffer zone when I handed him mission reports. Now, he let Gemma lean her entire weight against his arm.

I used to think his boundaries were impenetrable. Gemma proved me wrong. The General's daughter was all bright, unfiltered energy.

She snatched tactical maps right out of his hands to scribble her own markers. She shoved her halfempty water canteen at his chest.

She even jumped on his back to scare him when he was deep in thought. At first, Gideon’s jaw would clench. His shoulders would lock tight.

Then, slowly, he started letting her flip through his private field journals. He drank the sugary sports drinks she bought him.

When she rambled about academy gossip, the hard lines of his mouth actually softened. Then came the day I caught them by the training obstacle course.

She went up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his jaw. I saw the tips of his ears flush red. I saw the sudden, heavy rise and fall of his chest.

I went back to the offbase housing we were supposed to share. He hadn't stepped foot inside once. I opened the closet and pulled my uniforms off the hangers.

The throw pillows, the framed prints I bought—all the domestic fantasies I tried to build—just looked like cheap props now.

I packed everything into two heavy duffel bags and booked a transport truck with logistics. My phone lit up on the bare mattress.

It was a notification from Command. [Northern Deployment Transfer APPROVED.] A second later, a text from Gideon popped up. [MilAir Flight KN203.

Wheels down at 2000 hours tomorrow. Arrange a pickup.] I stared at the screen. He was still barking orders. I typed back one word. [Busy.] Chapter 2 I moved fast.

It took less than twentyfour hours to strip the offbase housing of every trace of me. Ten years reduced to two heavy duffel bags and an empty closet.

My phone buzzed on the bare mattress. The logistics officer's voice crackled through the speaker. "Executive Officer Wren, are you certain you want to surrender the lease?

Your rank entitles you to keep the property." "Positive." My voice was dead calm. "Process the paperwork." Command threw a victory banquet the next night for Gideon and Gemma.

I showed up late and took a seat at the far end of the table. Gemma’s gaze locked onto me across the room. "It poured yesterday.

Gideon and I were stuck waiting at the terminal forever." She tilted her head, her tone dripping with wideeyed innocence. "Wren, didn't you always handle his flight arrangements?

What happened?" The chatter around the table died. Every pair of eyes swung my way. I set my glass down. The ice clinked sharply against the rim.

I met her stare deadon. "Fleet logistics handles transport. Take it up with dispatch." Gemma’s smile cracked. At the head of the table, Gideon’s head snapped up.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. He was so used to me smoothing out every wrinkle in his life, anticipating his needs before he even voiced them. I was oxygen to him.

You don't notice it until someone cuts off the supply. He caught me at the end of the hall after the dinner. "What's with the attitude?" His voice was perfectly flat.

I stopped and looked up at him. The brim of his cover cast a harsh shadow over his eyes.

I used to think standing in his shadow was a privilege. "What attitude?" "Gemma was just making conversation." He shifted his weight. "Her tactical input was critical on this op." "You're my XO.

The transport logistics should have been—" "Gideon." His name hung in the air. He froze, his sentence snapping off. It was the first time I hadn't called him Commander.

I pulled in a slow, steady breath.

I looked him dead in the eye and delivered the line I’d been repeating in my head all day. "I'm pulling the marriage application." A sharp crease appeared between his brows. "Excuse me?" Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Gemma jogged up to us, slightly breathless. "Gideon! Command center needs your eyes on a priority dispatch!" He looked back at me, his expression turning back to stone. "Duty calls.

We'll finish this later." He didn't wait for an answer. He turned his back and fell into step beside her.

I stood in the empty hallway and watched their uniforms disappear around the corner. I didn't even flinch. Every op, every mission, every rookie outranked me.

His "later" was a deadline that would never come. Chapter 3 After surrendering the offbase lease, I hauled my bags to the officer's barracks.

I hit the firstfloor landing and nearly collided with Gideon and Gemma coming down the stairs. Gemma flashed a blinding smile. "Moving in?

Let me grab a bag for you, Wren." I shifted my weight, dodging her outstretched hand. "I've got it." "Don't be like that." She stepped forward again.

Before she could reach it, Gideon’s hand shot out and clamped around the handle of my heavy duffel. "Which floor?" "Third." He hauled the bag up the concrete stairs.

Gemma trailed right beside him, chattering endlessly about some glitch in the simulation. Gideon gave a low hum of acknowledgment every few seconds.

The air around them was completely relaxed. I kept my mouth shut and climbed the stairs two paces behind them. It was a familiar formation.

I’d spent the better part of a decade staring at the broad line of his shoulders, watching him forge ahead. Then Gemma showed up, slipping right into the empty space at his side.

I was just the shadow trailing in their wake, trying to keep up but never actually stepping into the light. The barrack room was barebones.

A standardissue cot, a metal desk, and a locker. Spotless and empty. Gideon dropped the bag onto the linoleum.

He looked around the cramped space, like the reality of the room was finally registering. "Why the barracks?" "I handed the offbase keys back to logistics," I said.

I let the silence stretch out, waiting for the impact to hit him.

It didn't. "If you didn't like the layout, you should have just filed for a different unit," he said, his voice completely flat. "No need to rough it out here." I straightened my spine.

My gaze locked onto his face. He really didn't give a damn. He didn't care about the house, and he definitely didn't care why I packed up my life.

The realization clicked into place, cold and mechanical. He probably thought I was bluffing about pulling the marriage paperwork. Command threw a private dinner that night.

The brass clinked glasses, buzzing over the simulation's tactical breakthroughs. General Lin, Gemma's father, was flushed with alcohol and pride.

He looked back and forth between his star protégé and his daughter. "Gideon, you and Gemma are a hell of a team out there. You've got the discipline, she's got the gut instincts.

Perfect tactical sync." The General leaned back in his chair. "You aren't getting any younger. It’s time you settled down.

My Gemma can be a bit of a firecracker, but she's got a solid core." He was practically giftwrapping her.

The officers who knew about the ring on my finger suddenly went dead silent. A few pairs of eyes darted toward my end of the table.

Gideon let the silence hang for a long three seconds. "I appreciate the thought, General," he said smoothly. "But with the current deployment schedule, a personal life isn't on my radar right now." The color completely drained from Gemma's face.

Her smile shattered. She shoved her chair back with a loud screech, the legs scraping against the hardwood, and bolted out the double doors. Gideon tracked her exit.

A hard knot formed in his jaw. He pushed himself to his feet. "Excuse me, General. I'll go check on her." A suffocating awkwardness choked the room.

I tossed my napkin onto my plate. "Excuse me." I hit the cold air of the terrace. I spotted them immediately.

Under the glow of the courtyard security lights, Gemma had her face buried in the center of Gideon’s chest. Her voice cracked into the night air. "Why not? Gideon, I want you.

I know I'm not as puttogether as Wren, but I can change!" She gripped the lapels of his uniform. "I can be what you need!" Gideon didn't wrap his arms around her.

But he didn't push her away, either. He just stood there and let her invade his space. I remembered every time I tried to close the distance between us over the years.

Every subtle, calculated step he took backward to maintain the perimeter. Right then, Gideon lifted his head. His eyes locked onto mine through the dark.

Chapter 4 I kept my face blank. I stared right back at him, watching them like a silent movie that had nothing to do with me.

At my sides, my fingernails dug into my palms until the skin threatened to break. His eyes narrowed slightly in the dark. I didn't wait around. I turned on my heel and walked away.

The walk back to the barracks was a blur of cold concrete. My chest felt completely hollowed out, scraped clean by the night wind.

I scrubbed the dirt off my face and was about to hit the rack when a heavy knock rattled my door.

Gideon stood in the dim, flickering light of the hallway. "About Gemma…" He paused, his jaw working. "I made things clear to her.

Don't read into it." "Whatever is going on between you two is none of my business." A flash of genuine shock crossed his face. "If that's all, Commander, I'm going to sleep." "Wren." He slapped his palm against the doorframe, his voice dropping an octave. "You've been acting completely off lately." I didn't say a word.

I shifted my gaze, grabbed the handle, and shoved the door shut. Click. The deadbolt slid into place, locking out the man I had practically worshipped for a decade.

A dull, heavy ache radiated through my ribs. I didn't know how long I sat there before my phone vibrated hard enough to rattle against the metal desk. "Wren!

Did you see the commendation roster on the internal network?" My old squadmate's voice blasted through the speaker. "The Silver Star for the border op.

Why the hell is Gemma listed as the primary recipient?" "You led the flanking team! Commander Gideon directed it himself!" My stomach dropped straight to the floor.

I yanked my laptop open and pulled up the military intranet.

The top bulletin flashed in bold letters: [Official Commendation: Silver Star awarded to Strategist Gemma…] That was my op.

Gideon and I spent three months running tactical simulations until our eyes bled, and I was the one bootsontheground. I snatched up my phone and dialed his number.

He answered on the first ring. "What the hell is the commendation roster?" I didn't bother with a greeting.

His voice came through the receiver, cool and steady. "I turned Gemma down tonight. She took it hard.

A compromised emotional state could impact her yearend promotion." A harsh, ugly laugh tore out of my throat. "So you used my blood to buy her off?" My grip on the phone turned my knuckles white. "You handed over the medal I earned to do her a favor, and you didn't even think to ask me?" "It was a joint operation," Gideon deflected, dodging the bullet completely. "She participated in critical logistics.

Putting her name up fits protocol." "Command makes the final call on medals. I just make recommendations.

Your contributions will be noted on your file." My whole body started shaking. A cold, nauseating rage clawed up my throat.

Three months of dodging mortar fire and eating dirt, wiped out with a stroke of his pen so his rookie could climb the ladder. "Noted how?

You're going to tack my name onto the bottom of an afteraction report like always?" A heavy silence stretched over the line.

When he finally spoke, his words dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. "Wren.

You only transferred to Operations to stay close to me in the first place." His voice was completely devoid of emotion. "These empty titles don't mean that much to you." "But Gemma is different.

She needs this on her record to get a foothold here. She needs to go further." Chapter 5 White noise blasted through my skull. My blood turned to ice. He knew.

He knew I tanked my own promotions to stay by his side as his XO. It wasn't that he was blind to it; he just didn't give a damn.

He looked at my decade of bleeding for him and saw nothing but poker chips he could cash in for her! I opened my mouth. Dust coated my throat. My thumb hit the red button. Click.

Command held the commendation ceremony the next day. Gemma’s Silver Star was the main event.

She stood at the podium in a crisp dress uniform, breaking down the tactical specifics of the op. Thunderous applause bounced off the auditorium walls.

Everything was strictly by the book. Until the open floor. An anonymous user pinged the main comms channel. [Challenge to Strategist Gemma's commendation!

The critical intel and flanking parameters for this op are a direct match to the preliminary tactical protocols drafted by XO Wren.] [How does Strategist Gemma justify her operational contribution?

Is this a case of stolen valor?] The auditorium exploded into chaos. The text flashed across the giant monitor behind the stage, bold and unmistakable.

The color drained from Gemma’s face. Panic flared in her eyes as she searched the front row for Gideon. My chest tightened. I didn't leak this.

I wasn't suicidal enough to burn the whole base down just to get even. Then, the weight of a stare pinned me to my seat. Gideon was looking at me through the sea of uniforms.

A deep crease cut between his brows. His eyes were loaded with blatant suspicion, and beneath it… total, absolute disappointment. My stomach dropped into freefall.

He shoved out of his chair. He took the stage under the blinding spotlights. "I am Commander Gideon.

I will address this anonymous claim directly." His voice echoed through the mic, hard as steel. "I formulated and executed every tactical decision on this op.

Strategist Gemma was instrumental in our critical logistics. I stake my rank and my honor on her performance." He paused. His gaze locked onto mine. "Wren is my Executive Officer.

Her duties are strictly clerical and supplybased." "She lacks the core capability to command a combat operation. This commendation belongs to Gemma.

End of discussion." The auditorium went dead silent. I stood frozen in the aisles. I might as well have been stripped naked on the arctic ice.

Realization, pity, and raw contempt radiated from the hundreds of eyes drilling into me. "Strictly clerical? Lacks the capability?" He just publicly erased my entire existence.

He ground ten years of my blood and grit into the dirt just to pave a clear path for his rookie. A splitsecond flash of triumph crossed Gemma’s eyes.

The poisoned needle popped the last shred of my control. Whitehot adrenaline spiked through my veins. I shoved past the row of chairs and marched straight down the center aisle.

My boot hit the first step of the stage. A brutal grip clamped down on my wrist. Chapter 6 Gideon cleared the steps. His fingers locked around my wrist bone like a steel vise.

The pressure ground painfully against my joint. I wrenched my arm back. My vocal cords pulled taut. "Let go." He didn't look at me. He gave a curt nod to the crowd. "Excuse me.

My XO needs to verify some operational details." He didn't give me a chance to fight back. He dragged me out of the auditorium.

The heavy doors slammed shut, instantly cutting off the noise from the crowd. The corridor was pitch black. We were completely alone. My chest heaved.

I stared him down in the dark. "You stripped me down to a glorified paperpusher just to prop her up. What the hell am I to you?" He stood in silence.

The heavy shadows masked his features. I braced myself for another tactical deflection. Instead, he closed the distance. His head dipped down.

His cold lips pressed hard against mine without warning. It was brief. Dry. Completely devoid of heat. He pulled back a second later. My muscles locked tight.

Total static filled my head. Gideon’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he watched my stunned silence. "Does this… settle it?

Are you done acting out?" Bile rose in the back of my throat. I stared at the man standing inches away from me. I spent a decade worshipping his shadow. I bled for his approval.

Now, the one physical contact I’d craved was weaponized against me. A muzzle to keep my mouth shut. A cheap payoff so I wouldn't ruin his rookie's moment in the spotlight.

Blood roared in my ears. I swung my arm. My palm cracked violently against his jaw. The impact snapped his head to the side. Red welts instantly flared against his pale skin.

Hot moisture spilled over my lashes, tracking down my cheeks. I was shaking so hard my teeth rattled. "You make me physically sick." He froze in place.

I spun on my heel, shoved the heavy fire doors open, and walked out. I didn't go back to the ceremony. I didn't march to the podium to fight for the truth.

It was all utterly pointless now. I headed straight to the command center. I booted up the secure terminal. My fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing the safety prompts.

I highlighted every core data file, every tactical simulation, and every backup protocol I had drafted for the border op. [File Deletion Complete.] If I was walking out, I wasn't leaving my blueprints behind for Gemma to build her career on.

Three hours later, I cleared the security checkpoint at the military airstrip. I hoisted my canvas duffel over my shoulder. I walked down the concrete tunnel and never looked back.

The transport plane ripped through the cloud cover into the pitchblack night. I blocked Gideon’s number on every secure and civilian channel. Ten years. I cut the cord.

Chapter 7 Gideon locked the door to the command center behind him. He dragged the backlog of operational reports across his desk, but his focus was shot.

The contour lines on the tactical map kept blurring together. Every time he blinked, all he saw was the heavy moisture brimming in Wren's eyes. "What the hell am I to you?

You make me physically sick." Her raw, fractured voice echoed off the inside of his skull.

He pulled out his secure comms unit and punched in her frequency. "The user you are attempting to reach is offline or out of range," the automated voice buzzed in the quiet room. "Offline?" His jaw clenched.

He hit redial. Dead air. A cold, sharp needle of unease slid under his ribs. He shoved his chair back. He needed to see her. They had to clear the air facetoface.

About the commendation, about the kiss, about… the marriage paperwork. He took the stairs to the third floor of the officer's barracks and rapped his knuckles against her door.

The adjacent door clicked open. A junior clerk poked his head out. He recognized him and immediately stiffened. "Commander Gideon? Are you looking for XO Wren?

She… surrendered her room." The concrete floor dropped out from under his boots. "Do you have her new coordinates