Falling for the Viking King & Other Bad Decisions

The night of dismissal always feels like the longest. Maybe that’s why the stars above Gundor Hall look brighter than I’ve ever seen them. Like they’re mocking me, burning freely while I sit here, caged by failure.

My boots echo against the marble as I climb the spiral staircase toward General Seaborne’s office. Every step is heavier than the last, and not just because I’m carrying the weight of rejection tucked beneath my jacket. The letter is folded and refolded, its golden seal broken, its cruel message burned into my skull.

Ten months at Pierce Charming Academy, the school created by Fairy Godmother Inc. to train the best agents in the universe, and I don’t get assigned a single mission. Not Alpha. Not Beta. Not even a pity Delta. All I get is an honorable discharge.

I grit my teeth and keep climbing. I should be sneaking back to my dorm, hiding under my blanket until the guards come to drag me out. Instead, I’m walking into the lion’s den, the office of my father, the man who rebuilt half of civilization and happens to also be my greatest critic.

The guards at the landing don’t meet my eyes as I pass. That’s fine. Their pity means nothing to me now. As I glide past them toward my father’s office, I hold my head high.

From behind the oak doors, I hear his voice. Low. Controlled. Issuing orders to someone over the phone. My heart kicks hard against my ribs. I could still turn around. Pretend I never came.

But that would be the coward’s way out. I might be a lot of things, but no one would ever dare call me a coward.

I take a deep breath and push the door open, stepping into a room that is all firelight and shadow. There are maps spread across his desk, covering every available space. He’s planning for a big mission, maybe the most consequential battle we’ve attempted to execute.

A mission I will never be a part of.

He looks up, stormy blue eyes pinning me where I stand, sharper and colder than my own.

“Fawn.” His tone is a blade, honed and deadly. “What are you doing outside of your quarters? It’s past curfew.”

“I needed to see you.” My voice comes out steadier than I expect. I step inside, close the door, and force the words out before I lose my nerve. “I got the letter.”

He doesn’t ask which letter. Of course he doesn’t. He already knows.

“I don’t understand.” My throat tightens, but I keep my chin high. “I trained harder than anyone. I passed every exam. I was ready. So why not me? Why wasn’t I chosen for even a single mission?”

Silence stretches, broken only by the crackle of the fireplace. Then he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

“You remind me of your mother,” he says finally. His voice barely softens, but the change in tone is there, a shadow of the father I knew before the war. “Fierce and stubborn, but the reality is, you’re not her.” His gaze hardens again. “And you’re not ready.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Right. Because no one could ever be her.”

“Fawn…”

“No, I get it. Believe me, I do.” My fists tighten at my sides. “She was a legendary fighter, wasn’t she? Everyone says so. People tell me I look like her, that I’ve got her fire. But you—” I stab a finger toward him. “You don’t see that. You only see the messier version. The one that’s not perfect.”

His jaw flexes, eyes flicking away for the first time. “Your mother was… different.”

“She was everything I’ll never be, right?” My throat burns. “That’s what you think. That’s what everyone thinks. I’m just the disappointment who inherited her looks but none of her greatness.”

“Careful,” he warns, but I detect a waver in his voice. He’s doing what he can to maintain control.

“I was four, Dad. Four. I don’t even remember her voice, I just have fragments of memories. Her laugh. Her hand holding mine. And you’ve spent my whole life reminding me of what I’m not. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

His shoulders sag slightly, but he straightens immediately, sliding the mask of command back into place. “I will not let you walk blindly into a mission you are not prepared for. Not because I am your father, but because I am the commanding general. You are a risk, Fawn, a liability.”

The fire snaps in the background, throwing shadows that dance like ghosts. His eyes narrow, but for once, I see something else beneath them. Not disappointment, just… grief.

“You don’t know that,” I snap. “You didn’t see me in training. You didn’t see…”

My hands curl into fists. “So that’s it? I just leave? Go back underground like none of this mattered?”

His eyes flicker—regret, maybe—but it’s gone too fast to catch. “I can live with your resentment. I refuse to bury you like I buried your mother.”

For a heartbeat, I almost crumble. Instead, I square my shoulders just like he taught me.

He studies me in silence, the storm brewing in his eyes unreadable. Finally, he exhales, a long, tired sound that makes him seem less like a general and more like a father. For once.

“Then prove it,” he murmurs. “Not to me. Not to this academy. To Fate. If she truly wants you, she’ll give you another chance.”

His words ignite something in me.

I nod once, sharp as a salute. “Fate doesn’t determine my path, General. I do.”

Unwilling to hear what he says next, I walk out before he can respond.

I should’ve gone back to my room. Should’ve buried the dismissal letter beneath my mattress and cried into my pillow like a normal reject cadet.

Instead, I’m parked in Gundor Hall, way past curfew, practically begging to get caught.

The academy loves its rules. No skipping drills. No bending protocol. And definitely no falling in love. They don’t want us getting mixed up with other cadets. It messes with the mission.

Of course, that’s one of the first rules cadets break. I mean, what do you expect? We’re all hot as hell and in our prime. People are always hooking up in shadowy corners and in between library stacks.

But me? I’m not here for a midnight hookup. I’m here flouting the rules because everything I have ever worked for in life has amounted to nothing. I only have a few nights left in these grand halls, so I’ve decided to take advantage.

I drop down onto a velvet chaise positioned near the main hearth. As I sit, a wave of disappointment and anger washes over me. I really thought I could make a difference. Only now do I see how naive I’ve been.

Whatever message I thought Fate was sending me—that I was special, destined, chosen—I was wrong.

Shadows from the fire crawl along the red couches and silver trim. My pulse thuds with each tick of the clock. It’s only a matter of time before a guard drags me off for breaking the sacred curfew. Maybe I’m just looking for trouble.

And still, I wait.

Because the truth is, I can’t walk away without knowing why I wasn’t chosen. Not once. Not for an alpha or beta or even a throwaway delta mission. I trained until my lungs bled, studied until my eyes blurred, and for what? A letter that says I’m not good enough.

That’s bullshit.

I’m faster, stronger, and more willing than any other recruit walking these halls. Without question. My courage doesn’t crack, no matter how many times I hit the ground. And every time I look in the mirror, I see her—my mother’s fire in my face, the only thing that still connects me to her in any significant way.

My whole life, my father trained me for greatness, told me it was my birthright. Now, he’s the one sending my ass out of the academy.

When I was first accepted into the academy, there were high expectations for me. I am the daughter of General Seaborne, after all. The man who commands all Fairy Godmother military units on Earth and arguably one of the most powerful men in the universe.

People expect greatness from me. I expect greatness.

And yet, here I am. The nepo baby that just couldn’t.

Every minute I spend outside my room heightens my chance of getting reprimanded. Tonight is my last night at Pierce Charming Academy. I might as well break all the rules while I still can.

Plus, there is only one man in the academy more feared than my father, and it’s not like he’s going to pop out of nowhere…

“Ms. Seaborne.”

Every muscle in my body locks.

No. It can’t be. You have got to be absolutely kidding me.

I twist around, and all the heat drains straight out of me.