Great Falls Rogue: Power of Five Collection Book 6

by Alex Lidell

  A horse’s sharp whinny pierces the air. Dirt flies high from beneath a rearing stallion’s heavy hooves. A shout of warning races through the mob with the speed of wildfire as a familiar horse and rider wade through the fray. Making only marginal attempts to keep his stallion from stepping on anyone in his way, River rides right into the center of the crowd. He’s magnificent—and terrifying. His eyes are hardened steel, every angle of his face tightened in anger, his shoulders square under his crisp red jacket. The same men who refused to step aside for their sergeants’ orders and Coal’s deadly blows scurry like cockroaches from the horse’s hooves. Even Tye rolls over his shoulder to make way.

  Stars. Within seconds of River riding his horse into the rioting circle, the fighting is finished, Coal swinging his staff against empty air.

  The deputy headmaster’s gray eyes flash with thunder as he surveys the scene from his stallion’s high saddle. No fewer than two dozen guards, plus Tye and me, are in some state of disreputable dishevelment, a good portion of the would-be mob having some injury to show for the experience. I tense when River’s eyes brush mine, flashing with an icy fury that says I’ve disregarded the wrong male’s orders.

  Raising his voice, he bellows for three of the guardsmen’s sergeants, the noise making me flinch. The men stretch out before him so quickly, I’m not sure they’ve dared take a breath since their summons.

  “Everyone, take a knee, now,” River demands in the tone of a general who knows he’ll be obeyed—and is. Even Coal, his staff still in hand, stops swinging to kneel on the dirt. My body moves to obey before my mind catches up to my motions, the power of River’s demand reverberating through every fiber.

  In a moment, the training yard rings with silence.

  Turning his horse back to the sergeants, River keeps his voice loud enough to be heard by all. “Take the injured to the infirmary. Everyone else can cool off in lockup until I say otherwise. No exceptions.”

  4

  Lera

  I flinch as a metal grating slams into place behind me.

  Tye is already striding forward into the large damp cell where the two of us have been relegated, broad shoulders relaxed under his gray tunic, which now has a long tear down the front. He looks down at it, snorts softly, and pulls the thing off, muscles flaring in the dim light. Having once been an active fortress, the Academy’s central keep has a dungeon serious enough to hold prisoners of a major battle. A pair of slits near the ceiling provide entrance points for sunbeams, the light drawing two sharp lines on the uneven stone floor. Our cell is about ten paces on each side, with numerous manacles bolted to the wall and hanging down from the ceiling.

  At first, I think the accommodations are intended to hold many people at once and then…then I notice a hinged wooden table in the center of the room, a rack holding leather lashes standing not far away. Bile crawls up my throat. The guards didn’t throw Tye and me into just any cell—they chose the interrogation chamber. River chose the interrogation chamber.

  Clapping my palms over my mouth to keep from losing my breakfast into the dark spattered drain, I press myself into the corner. My breath quickens, drawing lungfuls of stale, moldy air that feels like it hasn’t been inhaled in decades—and it probably hasn’t. River’s ice-cold gaze pierces me over and over, mingling with the bruises I saw him leave on Tye’s flesh a month ago. With the violence I know he doesn’t hesitate to dole out.

  A new shiver grips my throat as I wonder if the room itself is River’s warning of what’s to come. The echo of a leather belt’s tiny whistle a moment before it lashes across my back fills my memories, Zake’s furious face towering over me. Morphing to River’s. Bile burns my throat anew.

  “Stop that, lass,” Tye says lightly, though he doesn’t look in my direction, as if giving me space to calm down. Whistling a lilting tune, he tests the grating, then perches on the torture table as if it were a bench set there for his convenience. “These are just accommodations. And not the worst ones either, so far as these things go.”

  Tye would know. At least the real Tye would, having spent a good deal of his life in and out of lockup before the quint magic’s call connected him to River and the others. Has this Tye’s veil-magic-spun life sent him into trouble as well?

  I swallow, trying to focus on that thought. On anything except where we are. What someone might do to us here.

  Soft footsteps tap the stone, then Tye is before me with a whisper of warm air, brushing a lock of my hair off my face. His beautiful sharp face and emerald eyes fill my vision—eyes that see more than I’d like. His silver earring winks in the low light. “Think logically for a moment, lass,” he says gently. “If someone intended to hurt us, they’d hardly give us access to weapons.”

  “Weapons?” I ask.

  Tye waves at the rack of whips before stepping away from me a little too quickly. Aside from teaming up in the fight, we’ve not exchanged more than a few words in the month since our coupling in the bathhouse. Tye has his reasons and I have mine, which doesn’t make missing my friend—my male—any less painful.

  Grabbing onto a set of chains hanging from the ceiling, Tye pulls himself up, his body perfectly taut. “These aren’t bad,” he says, spreading out his arms until they are parallel to the ground, every muscle in his bare chest and stomach coiling impossibly. The cross-like position makes me want to rub my shoulders, but Tye holds it with ease. Catching my gaze, he grins and flips himself over, landing on the stone floor with a flourish.

  I shake my head. “You are insane.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  I try to smile, to show some gratitude for his effort, but I can’t unsee horrid stone walls surrounding us. Can’t forget River’s furious gray gaze as he stared down at me from his horse. As if…as if I betrayed him. Took advantage of the tentative trust we’ve built, forged in secret study and shared moments, and used it as permission to disregard his orders. The male plainly regretted letting me glimpse his true self, hidden behind the mask of a commander’s coldness. And now, now he was ensuring I regretted it too.

  The worst part is that River is right. The Leralynn who stays meekly behind while Coal faces trouble, she never existed. Never would. The Leralynn I’d let River believe me to be is as imaginary as Lady of Osprey.

  Of course River wants vengeance.

  I glimpse the chains hanging from the ceiling again, so like those clanking in Coal’s nightmares, and swallow a lump. Coal. River locked him up too. Somewhere close by. The very last place Coal should ever be.

  Pressing my back against the wall, I slide to the floor.

  “You don’t want to do that,” Tye calls, sitting atop the table again. When I glance questioningly toward him, he jerks his chin at the stone beneath me. “Sit on damp stone. However long River decides to have us cool off here, it will be that much less pleasant in cold soggy clothes.” He pats a spot on the table beside him.

  “You want me to sit on…there? Where they question people?”

  “If it’s the sitting you object to, I can think of something more interesting,” Tye drawls before stretching like a cat, every hard square of his abdomen on magnificent display. “You know, most females would consider themselves fortunate to be locked up in a dark room with me and no other entertainment to be had.”

  Heat floods my face. Having already risen before the bastard finished his sentence, I plot a course in the opposite direction from him, into the farthest, dankest corner of the cell, where the scent of mold is most cloying. The thoughts and sensations flooding my mind make actual thinking difficult, but I do anyway, taking stock of where I am—of how abruptly my mission has ground to a halt. Just this morning, I was plotting my next Night Guard reconnaissance outing with Arisha and Gavriel’s help and looking forward to another tutoring session in River’s heady presence. Now the latter is furious with me, Shade is prowling the woods, Coal is locked up with only his demons for company, and Tye… Tye is playing games.

  Damn the male. He flirts
on reflex, unable to help himself, but I know he has no plans to follow through. Even after a month of little contact, the intensity of our coupling in the bathhouse still turns my insides to molten heat each time I trespass on the memory. I was naive to think I could bed the male, enjoy the sheer physical pleasure of it, and walk away without scorching my soul. The connection is too strong, the wound too painful to keep ripping open. Not when I know that this Tye’s priorities lie solidly with his precious Prowess Trials, while mine are solidly elsewhere.

  My hands curl into fists. It isn’t fair how easily a few words can undo a month of hard-won calluses. How the dungeon walls can leave Tye unscathed but insist on closing in around me.

  “That wasn’t amusing, Tye.” I quicken my step as if there is anywhere to go, only to trip over a manacle. The metal ring clatters across the stone floor, the sound raking my nerves, sending echoes of pain and darkness reverberating through me. Making me flinch as if branded.

  As if I’d heard it before. Been held captive before. Been questioned and punished and made to scream—I cut myself off with a jerk. Coal. He has been held before, not me. It is his flash of memory that gripped me just now. His nightmares that will only get worse the longer River maroons him in the dungeons.

  Yet, it’s Coal’s fear as much my own that’s stealing my breath just now. And yet, the knowledge doesn’t make the darkness any less crushing.

  I don’t realize Tye is moving until he’s beside me, his strong arms pulling me from the corner I’ve somehow burrowed myself into. Before I can blink, I’m gathered against his warm, hard chest, wrapped in his citrusy scent. His warmth surrounds me, making my muscles relax on instinct.

  “It was a little amusing,” Tye says impertinently, even as he strokes my back and head like a kitten. The smooth touches along my hair fill me with safety. With a sense of now to stand against the phantom memories I shouldn’t have. Tye’s knuckles brush my cheek. “I know, I’m a horse’s arse.”

  “Yes, you are,” I tell him. But stars, I want you anyway.

  5

  Tye

  Tye was a horse’s arse. And he well knew it.

  Despite Lera being oblivious to it, any male with a cock would thank his lucky stars to be locked in with her, Tye being no exception. Her deep brown eyes confused the senses, her hair a fiery auburn silk that positively begged a man’s fingers to get tangled up in it. Worse still, he knew what it felt like to be buried deep inside all that lilac-scented warmth. A fact of which his lower body was painfully aware. But that was no excuse for even hinting at the many things he wished to do to the lass.

  First, Lera had made her preference for Tye’s staying away quite clear. And second, she deserved better than him under any circumstances. Tiga’s death was proof enough of that. And yet being near Lera made Tye feel alive, like fog lifting from the world to reveal all the colors and smells.

  He breathed out slowly, willing his body to settle despite Leralynn’s intoxicating lilac scent. Worse still, standing this close to her, he could smell the slight hint of the lass’s misguided arousal. That sweet musk alone had his cock pulsing hard enough to make the room spin.

  Tye forced his hand away from Lera’s soft skin, bracing on the small of her back instead. Her amaranth dress, in tantalizing tatters from the fight, felt smooth and cool beneath Tye’s touch. The fabric fell perfectly over her curved hips and full breasts, though the bright cloth would look even better pooled on the floor, the lass’s creamy flesh bent over that wooden table, her legs… Tye shifted his weight, trying to evict his cock’s thoughts from his mind. “Go sit down, lass.”

  Lera started forward obediently, her body tense. With her gaze free to wander the dungeon, the lass’s arousal waned, a shot of fear turning her scent. Her eyes had taken on that hunted look again, darting from wall to hanging chains to shelved whips as if something might be hiding there. As if the damn implements would leap from the holds and let themselves loose on her flesh.

  Tye’s gaze narrowed, a strange twinge of worry growing in his chest. Lera’s fear seemed to go deeper than the large cell, beyond a cadet’s normal anxiety over being punished. And they were being punished—punished, not tortured.

  Yes. Something was wrong. Walking into this cell had woken demons in Lera that were now clawing their way out.

  Well, not on Tye’s watch. He might be in the dark as to what exactly was making terror lurch in those beautiful brown eyes, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be the one to make it go away.

  Unable to stop himself, Tye gripped Lera’s waist and, ignoring the indignant squeak, hoisted her up onto the table in the dungeon’s center. Another step, and he positioned himself between her thighs, their eyes for once level with each other. As he trapped Lera’s gaze with his own, preventing it from scanning the dungeon, Tye could see the pulse in her neck start to slow, the hunted fear in her eyes wane. Good. A few moments later, the lass’s fear-tight muscles softened enough to let her breathe easier.

  “There we go,” Tye said softly. The notion that—despite the manhandling— the lass still trusted him, was so gratifying that it nearly made Tye purr. He ran his thumb over Lera’s high cheekbone, watching her eyes flutter, his whole body longing to wipe the vestiges of her fear away. “It’s just a room, Lera. It’s people who hurt you, not anything in here. If someone wished you harm, they’d hardly need all these toys for it.” A corner of his mouth tugged up and, because he was an arse, Tye added, “I could prove it to you if you want.”

  Lera snorted softly, a touch of humor in her eyes—which was a miracle as far as Tye was concerned. “You sound very certain of yourself.”

  “I am.” Oddly enough, Tye wasn’t lying. He was certain. Knew exactly how he’d go about turning their cell from a chamber of horrors into one of pleasure, guiding the nervous tension in Lera’s body to mindless release. As if he’d done such things before, many times with many women.

  Which, of course, was utter nonsense. After all, Tye had been with Tiga for most of his romantic life. Hadn’t he? His mind itched, as if memories were trying to hatch through a hard shell. A familiar feeling. Small and feisty as Lera was, she made Tye feel as though he wore blinders, only able to see the world fully when she was close.

  A spot on Tye’s chest burned suddenly, and he rubbed at it, shaking his head. No, of course, he was just speculating as to what one could do in such a chamber—envisioning the pleasures a man might offer a woman given the tools at hand. It was nothing more than imagination mixed with a healthy dose of desire and cockiness.

  “What are you thinking?” Lera asked, making Tye realize he’d gone quiet.

  “Some very explicit thoughts that involve your screaming in ecstasy,” he muttered before catching himself.

  The heady scent of Lera’s arousal once more spiked the air, reminding Tye of exactly how she tasted. Everywhere. Tye’s whole body heated, and he simultaneously longed to splay the lass out on the table before him and to gather her against his soul.

  Lera swallowed, a delicious pink blush rising into her pale cheeks. “That… Us. It would be a very poor idea.”

  “Agreed,” said Tye firmly, clearing his throat. The memory of their last coupling had driven him mad for weeks. They couldn’t do it again. Shouldn’t.

  But anything was better than having Lera spiral down into terror again.

  He looked around the dungeon cell, his mind racing against the tension starting to rise into the lass’s shoulders. That odd sense of expertise teased him again, an uncanny set of ideas of the many, many things he could do here. Maybe there was a way to offer her pleasure without losing himself. Not coupling exactly, but… “Do you want me to distract you, lass?”

  Leralynn frowned at him suspiciously. “What do you mean, precisely?”

  Tye grinned and cupped the back of her head with his wide palm. Leaning close to her ear, Tye nipped the bottom lobe. “Precisely, that I am a very good distraction.” He grinned, breathing her in. “Also, the one nice thing you should kn
ow about the chamber here is that no one can hear us—so feel free to scream my name as loud as you wish.”

  This time when Lera opened her mouth—probably to call him a colorful type of bastard—Tye captured her soft lips with his own. She stiffened for a moment, then yielded with a nearly inaudible sigh that sent currents of need shooting into Tye’s cock so fiercely that he groaned.

  Resisting the urge to take Lera right on the table’s edge, Tye slid his hands under the dark pink shoulder straps of her dress. Pulling the satin down over her breast, he considered the chest wrap for a moment before lifting her with one arm to slip the dress all the way off with an efficiency that made the lass’s brows rise. Apparently, Tye was also exceedingly good at undressing women.

  6

  Lera

  I shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t let Tye do this. The thoughts repeating in my mind lose potency with every stroke of Tye’s hands along my skin. His emerald eyes study me with a predatory intensity that makes my sex clench, my thighs slick. Somehow, the male has gotten my dress, undershorts, and chest wrap all off within the space of a few heartbeats.

  With a low growl, I slip off the table and plant my hands on Tye’s hard chest, fully intending to push him away and put a long, cold cell between us. Then he cups my rib cage in his large palms and flicks his thumbs over my nipples, taking my mouth so suddenly and deeply that I can’t help but moan against him. His large body blocks out the damp cell, his pine-and-citrus scent pushing away Coal’s phantom memories, River’s furious gaze, Zake’s descending whip.

  I reach for his flies, suddenly desperate for more distraction, intending to make him as naked as I am. Whatever this is, however ill-advised, it’s working. The anticipation of feeling Tye’s muscles beneath my hands makes my fingers tingle, but it’s the bulge in his trousers I plan to enjoy first. To savor the hardness pulsing there.