by Alex Lidell
Realizing Tye is waiting me to say something, I clear my throat. “The Prowess Trials are something. I little blame you for doing what you must.”
Tye steps back toward the wall, though he keeps from actually leaning back against it. For a while, neither of us says a word as I return to my work. Scoop manure. Toss it into the wheelbarrows. Hold back the wince of pain the movement evokes. Repeat.
Finally, Tye clears his throat. “I am not bedding Princess Katita, in case you’re wondering.”
My heart skips a beat. “I wasn’t.”
He grins, but I can feel the tension behind the jest. “Of course you were.”
I give Tye a vulgar gesture, which only makes him grin wider and jump right back onto the overhead bar, this time raising and holding his legs at a right angle to the floor. “I’m not going to bed you either,” he adds, his attention on his bar.
My hands tighten on the pitchfork. Instead of mucking Sprite’s stall, I set my sights on one farther away and walk toward it with purpose. There is simply no response to that bit of presumptuousness, especially when it happens to be true. We aren’t going to sleep together—and not just for whatever reasons he’s come up with.
“Lass.” When I look over my shoulder, I find Tye still hanging above the ground, trying and nearly succeeding in holding on to his cocky expression. Almost. I know the male too well to buy the lightness and smiles, not when my own immortal senses let me see the heaviness behind his gaze no matter how far down the stable aisle I am. “It isn’t anything against you,” he says, the reason behind this morning visit suddenly becoming clear. A thank-you. An acknowledgment. And a line drawn in the sand. He clears his throat, his vibrant green eyes suddenly shadowed. “My training and entanglements don’t work. Trust me, I’ve tried. Some things are best said up-front. What we did the other night… That can’t happen again.”
I grit my teeth and force my shoulders into a shrug, ignoring the trickle of acid in my throat. Of course it can’t happen again—I’ve already come to the same conclusion myself. The kissing and more against that tree hadn’t been real, and I let myself enjoy them anyway. I’ve no regrets. But it burns to hear him say it, as if it’s his decision alone. As if I hadn’t been the one who’d warned him not to read anything into the kiss.
And all of a sudden, with a surge of anger that simmers my blood, I realize that I’ve made yet another—more grievous—miscalculation. While wondering whether the males would still care for me without the magic’s bond, I’d overlooked the fact that I might not care for them. And this Tye, who thinks his kiss is a thank-you gift I should savor, I don’t like one bit.
Reaching the other end of the stable, I look at Tye over the thick metal prongs of my pitchfork. “Message received. Now, I’d appreciate you choosing some other place to tempt Shade’s wrath. Unlike Princess Katita and her ladies, I find little amusement in watching you strut about like a cock at sunrise and even less in explaining to River why my work isn’t done.”
5
5. Lera
I think I might actually be moving better by the time I head across the neatly trimmed grass and raked sand of the training yard toward Coal’s morning sparring lesson, groups of gray-clad students and shouting instructors blurring in my side vision. I wonder whether Tye attends morning practice as well, and what the poor human in charge of him makes of the male. Lack of qualification—that is one problem my sparring instructor certainly doesn’t have.
I, on the other hand, do. What I—usually—have in physical prowess, I make up for with a desperate lack of academic preparation. The veil might have convinced the Academy that I’ve had an educated, noble upbringing, but it didn’t condescend to make me read better or do sums without the help of my fingers. I’ve already heard mutters on that score, my too-sharp hearing eagerly picking up hurtful tidbits. I turn my face up, letting the warm sun and clear sky lighten my mood. After the soggy disaster of yesterday, at least the weather seems to be on my side today.
The weather, however, quickly reveals itself as my only ally. As class starts, the difference between “moving better” and “keeping up with Coal” is as clear as the clouds. My mind functions little better, unable to shake Tye and River from my thoughts no matter what I do—the former’s cocky assumption that I’d want to bed him in the first place, that he was letting me down. The latter’s cold gaze across the morning courtyard, gray eyes so neutral that I almost couldn’t recognize my own commander in them. Where does the veil’s magic end and the truth of the males’ nature begin? Where was that line when the magic bonded us in Lunos? How are—
“Osprey!” Coal snaps just as my practice sword bounces pitifully off Katita’s own raised blade. “Are you attacking or giving her a bloody massage?” He glares at me with piercing blue eyes, as professorial and distant as if yesterday never happened. Clad in his usual black leather in defiance of any uniform and wrapped in his masculine metallic scent, he crosses his sculpted arms over his broad chest—the same chest I felt against my skin yesterday, when the powerful beast Coal keeps leashed tangled with my own.
Unbidden heat floods my core, my sex clenching around the emptiness that so recently throbbed around Coal. Instructor. Cadet. Not happening unless you want to be squirming before River again. Or worse. You aren’t in Lunos and won’t be until help comes.
The princess grins, white teeth flashing in a perfect face. “It must be the latter, sir,” Katita says, sweeping her sword into a wide arc before threading it like a needle between my body and sword arm. Arms thus wrapped, Katita yanks me close enough to murmur into my ear, “Though I do prefer my ladies-in-waiting to bathe in water, not horse piss. Just to let you know for the future.”
I stumble as Katita shoves away from me, her coldly beautiful face shifting to deferential respect quicker than any warrior’s strike as she glances at Coal. “Might you work with me instead today, sir? I have been having difficulty with a lunge-attack sequence for some time, and nothing I do seems to fix it.”
Coal’s brilliant blue gaze weighs me, my throat tightening at the mess I know he sees. A rumpled, too-large uniform stained with sweat and manure from the stable, shaking arms that keep dropping the blade, shoulder curled in to protect my aching body. Worse still, with me standing beside the princess whose every line oozes power and self-confidence, the resemblance between me and a drowned rat is hard to miss.
Even knowing all that, it still hurts when Coal nods to Katita and plucks my practice blade right out of my hand. “Osprey, join Arisha for basic strength work,” the warrior says, pointing to where my segregated roommate friend is attempting to conquer push-ups. Without waiting for my response, Coal squares off with Katita, his gaze intent on the princess’s movement as she walks him through the troublesome combination.
Keeping my face a stone, I find a place beside Arisha and drop gracelessly to the ground. She turns her head to look up at me, her scrunched brow damp with sweat, her brown hair sticking out wildly from her head in two collapsing braids. I smile in commiseration, but she only looks away quickly, focusing on her shaking arms. I swallow a stab of hurt. Ever since I returned to our dorm room last night, she’s been acting differently—quieter, not looking at me full-on. Almost like…almost like she’s scared of me.
“Arisha—”
“Silence on the pitch,” Coal calls out without pausing his movements.
As I straighten into a basic push-up position, I’m hard-pressed to say what hurts more, my protesting muscles or the sight of Coal and Katita dancing with blades. Their matching blond hair gleaming in the sunlight—Katita’s flowing behind her in a ponytail, Coal’s in a tight knot—their paired beauty is almost painful to look at. I can sense the males of our group trying not to watch Katita as determinedly as I try not to watch Coal. Her smooth midriff shows each time she parries high, her hips flaring in perfect proportion from her slim waist.
Watching Katita’s sharp, crisp strokes, I suddenly wish that King Zenith’s daughter and heir to the Ckri
del throne was less well trained, less diligent, less bloody perfect as she faces down one of Lunos’s greatest fighters without a shred of fear. When Coal lands smarting blows on the princess’s shoulders and ribs and thighs, Katita takes the rebukes with gracious nods of acknowledgment even as they make her wince. Damn her. That’s our dance, Coal’s and mine.
Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe crossing blades with Coal was special to me, but to him—to the male who’s lived with a sword for centuries—I’ve always been just another novice to be trained.
I try to straighten my arms too quickly, my palms slipping to send me face-first into the sand. Grains of grit fill my mouth and eyes, which—from the sound of nearby chuckles—must look much as it feels. The one and only class in the day where Cadet Leralynn of Osprey has something of worth to offer, and I’m failing even that. Right in front of Coal.
I struggle up again, my back sagging in a form so poor that a child would mark it. Face tingling, I watch Coal switch drills and continue down the line of cadets to make correction to form. Every time the warrior’s muscled hands align a student’s shoulders or settle on a cadet’s hips to twist them into proper position, his blue eyes a wall of professionalism, a claw rakes over my chest. It little helps that the women of the group can’t hide their pleasure at Coal’s attention. One, a slight, black-haired first-year, even seems to press into Coal’s hands like a purring tabby cat.
Back in Lunos, Autumn once jested that she could name a dozen females who’d likely find release just from seeing the bastard naked—plainly, Coal’s allure is no less strong in the mortal lands. Masculinity streams off him in his scent, his chiseled features, his bare, corded arms. Arms that didn’t hesitate in flipping me over and taking me from behind only yesterday—
“He is an instructor,” Arisha says, her voice so low that even I can barely hear. Crunching up to touch her elbows to her knees, she waits for me to mirror the position, her cheeks flushed under their constellation of freckles.
My heart jumps, my abdominal muscles protesting so vividly that I see stars in the brilliant blue sky. “What?”
“Master Coal. He is an instructor. Instructors teach.” Arisha follows my gaze to where Coal stands behind one of the female cadets, his broad palms bracing her arms as he guides her upper body to follow through a blow. “I’m saying it doesn’t mean anything other than that.”
My body tightens, my skin blazing. Arisha couldn’t possibly have smelled what happened between Coal and me yesterday, which means my current pining is pathetic enough for her to have taken notice. “So long as I’m not in his sights, I little care what he does.” I bite off my words, then instantly wish I could take them back. Arisha may be unable to run across the road without getting winded, but the girl is no idiot. She deserves better. I sigh. “I’m not blind to beautiful bodies. So long as I keep fantasy and reality well separated, there is little harm in looking.”
“Hmm.” The girl makes a noncommittal sound, and I excuse myself to get some water before Arisha can share any more of her too on-point thoughts.
6
6. Coal
Coal turned his back to Lera lest she caught the hint of amusement that made the corner of his mouth twitch. After the smooth athletic sword dance of the previous afternoon, today the girl couldn’t so much as lift her arms. Her smooth curves and lean muscles were a stiff, strained mess. Anyone who’d trained hard knew the feeling, which made it entertaining to watch another suffer through the same fate.
On the sand in front of him again, Princess Katita brought her practice blade to ready guard, her keen teal eyes watching for an opening that Coal supposed he should give her. Let the princess try to mount an attack. Maybe see how well Katita could split her attention between offense and defense when the pace picked up. The princess was certainly trying, working with her whole heart. She deserved more than Coal’s bored indulgence, no matter how well he knew he hid it.
Coal’s jaw tightened with irritation at himself. He had two dozen students in the corral and yet couldn’t keep his thoughts from swirling around Lera—who wasn’t even training today.
Before him, Katita took the offered weakness and attacked, her body moving with all the technique a training master could demand. Plainly, the princess not only had had good trainers but had also put in the work to go along with instruction—and yet as far as a conversation of blades, Coal had little to say to Katita’s perfectly textbook movements.
Especially after he’d crossed blades with Leralynn the previous afternoon.
And then done more than that. Unbidden, the memory of Lera moving beneath him in the cave’s moist air gripped Coal’s cock. Even now, he couldn’t help seeing how Lera’s full breasts had bounced with his movements, her chest heaving with desperate breaths, her taut legs wrapped around his waist like a vise. It almost felt like it’d happened to a different person—like a different man’s cock had been buried to the hilt in all that lilac-scented warmth—especially since it could never happen again.
Unable to help himself, Coal glanced over to where Lera was doing basic strength training with Arisha. Her rich auburn braid swung over her shoulder as she lowered into push-ups, the choppiness of her usually ethereal movement so absurdly unlike her that it was all Coal could do to keep from cracking a smile—especially as Lera fell halfway through a push-up, landing with her face in the sand. Watching her sit up and rub the dirt away, Coal waited for the string of colorful curses that was sure to come.
Instead, the girl’s skin darkened as she struggled back into plank form, her jaw tightening with humiliation.
The amusement faded from Coal’s chest so quickly that he nearly left a welt on Katita’s unprotected shoulder for no reason beyond his own distraction. Surely Lera understood that soreness after yesterday’s ordeal was normal. Not a sign of weakness. Not a sign of anything beyond the effort she’d put in to withstand the misery he put her through.
The color of Leralynn’s skin said otherwise. She gritted her teeth as she started moving jerkily again, injured pride and frustration rolling off her in waves. Stars take him. What did the girl expect? Yet even knowing that Lera’s demands of herself were unrealistic, Coal could no longer take any gentle humor in her predicament. Or forgive himself for not having watched closer, for anticipating a reaction from a girl who was anything but predictable.
Especially after River told Coal what she’d done last night.
Lera had tried to protect him. Offered to face something terrifying, just to spare Coal—the man who’d just punished her. What woman did that? It had shaken River enough that he’d shared the conversation with Coal—along with his suspicion that someone had hurt Lera before. Having seen the scars Lera’s old master left on her, Coal knew River’s guess was right. When the time was right, when trust was rebuilt, Coal would need to work with her through that. A fighter couldn’t freeze up in terror at the thought of being struck—an echoing circumstance could too easily come up in battle.
“Rotate!” Coal called over the training grounds, turning his face up to the wind while the cadets scurried to new positions. He’d acted like an idiot. Again. He should have anticipated Lera’s unrealistic expectations of her body, done something to subtly defuse her pain. Instead, Coal had let the whole class watch her flail.
The bloody reality was that Coal deserved the very thing Lera had spared him from. He was an instructor. He’d been responsible for every breath she took yesterday. And instead of protecting the girl, Coal had let his cock do the thinking. Leralynn had been weak and hurt and exhausted. She hadn’t been thinking straight—but he should have been.
A rush of heat slashed through Coal’s core, making his cock twitch in memory of Lera’s blazing, clenching sex. He certainly hadn’t been thinking yesterday; he’d been…reacting. The scent of Lera’s arousal had woken something primal inside him, the strength radiating from her matching the power coiled in his own soul. The bedding hadn’t been gentle. It had been raw and exhilarating and made him feel more al
ive than he had since escaping the islanders.
It was how Coal had imagined bedding the woman who’d helped him survive captivity would be.
“Nothing of consequence happened here today,” Leralynn had told Coal in the cave. That might have been true for her, but not him. Coal had wanted her so deeply that his soul howled with the need. Still did. Not that it mattered.
The sound of cracking wood and gasping students jerked Coal’s attention back to the corral. With a start, Coal realized that he’d not only taken a swing at a practice post, but hit the wood hard enough to shatter the practice blade. Stars take him. “Can I help you all?” he demanded, the students scattering back to position at once.
Grabbing a fresh sword, Coal snuck a final glance at where Lera was doing push-ups again. Coal had hurt her. Many times over. And now he could offer no comfort. Because it wasn’t his place to. And because he didn’t know how.
Putting distance between them was the only path to take. “Rik, Puckler,” Coal called, waiting for Katita’s bulky cousins to take a place before him. The twins had inherited much of the princess’s status and arrogance without the wits or work ethic to go with them. Bringing up the tip of his blade, Coal decided to see how many times he might make the pair blunder into each other before the bell rang.
7
7. Lera
It takes three full days before I can move normally again, and I’m surprised to discover how easily I’ve slipped into the invisibility that saved me most of my life before I met the males. Aside from the uncomfortable conversation about Coal, Arisha still seems to be keeping a distance from me, finding reasons to be out of the room whenever I’m there and reading through meals. I try not to let it hurt too much—but I miss her. Even in the short time I’ve known her, her easy, clumsy friendliness was a welcome balm against the coldness of the Academy. Perhaps she’s discovered that I attract too much trouble. I can hardly blame her there, especially since Tye, Coal, and River have plainly come to the same conclusion and stay clear of me as well. With no injury to complain of, I see nothing of Shade at all.
