by Alex Lidell
Quickly calculating the path of least resistance, River decided that nothing he could say was likely to make an impact. Phantoms. Coal was imagining phantoms, he had to be. And you didn’t talk someone out of that. “I will make you a bargain, Coal. We go check the interrogation chamber, and once you see for yourself that no one is there, you and I will have a different conversation. One in which you will cooperate fully. Is that agreed?”
“Yes.”
River clicked open the lock, the intensity of Coal’s insistence making his heart patter in his throat. As Coal moved to stride out the door, however, River blocked the male’s path with his arm. “Have I your word?”
Coal’s nostrils flared as he pushed past River’s hand and sprinted down the corridor to the stairs, as if following some internal beacon. Down, down, down, the man’s soft steps took the crumbling stairs two at a time, River following close behind to the lowest level of the hold. The one where air was even more precious, from which not one sound escaped.
The heavy door to the questioning corridor opened with a screech of rust, releasing the sound of a girl’s whimpers into the dank air.
River’s face drained of blood. Quickening his pace, River rounded the final turn to find the questioning room not empty at all. Lera knelt on the floor, one of her arms in a too-high shackle, blood covering both the metal and her skin. As if she’d been pulling against the shackle all night, until her strength finally waned.
Her normally vibrant auburn hair hung in lank strands over her blanched face.
“Good stars, who did this?” The words spilled from River’s mouth before he could stop himself.
Coal’s ice-cold eyes cut River off at the knees. “You.”
Shoving past him, Coal rushed into the cell and crouched beside the girl with a slow gentleness that River had never seen in him. Instead of yanking Lera into his arms, as River would have, Coal shifted her just enough to take the pressure off the overstretched joint and examined the bloody manacle.
Leralynn whimpered but didn’t cry. Perhaps she had no tears left to shed.
River shifted his weight and felt Lera’s eyes lift to watch him over Coal’s shoulder. Fury and fear and pain saturated her chocolate gaze, though she was fighting like hell itself to put up a facade of strength.
It took all of River’s self-control to play along, keeping his face schooled and seemingly unaware of her state, all while bile rose up his throat, threatening to make him vomit.
He’d done this. Ordered Leralynn held without following up to ensure the instructions were executed as intended.
The pang of envy at watching Leralynn lean trustingly against Coal’s chest squeezed River hard enough to take his breath. Shuffling the key ring, he pulled up the small one for the manacle and took a step toward the pair. At least he had something to offer, late as it was.
Coal’s head snapped around, a low primal growl filling the room. River raised his hand to show the key, but the fevered glaze in Coal’s blue eyes was as clear a warning as a tiger’s roar. River wasn’t to come any closer. For any bloody reason.
Moving slowly, River slid the keys along the stone floor and backed out of the cell. He wasn’t welcome beside Leralynn. Not now, and very possibly not ever.
10
Lera
I am afraid to breathe too quickly; the rhythm of slow steady inhalations has warded off the night terrors for hours now. My body is numb. Separated. So long as I don’t move, the world feels distant, as if a curtain of thick cotton has settled around my senses. All I taste are mouthfuls of stale air. In and out. In and out.
Hinges squeak.
With excruciating slowness, my gaze focuses. The cotton keeping my senses at bay disappears as I blink at the figure rushing inside my cell, bringing unwelcome reality with him. A heady metallic musk fills my senses, drowning out my own stench of stale sweat and dried blood.
“Leralynn.” Coal crouches beside me, leashed violence simmering behind his devastatingly beautiful face. His usually bound hair hangs down to his broad shoulders, framing a strong jaw and blazing blue eyes. On the stone floor, lines of sunlight speak of morning well on its way. I’ve been here all night, and I wager Coal has too. No, I know he has—I felt him. Despite Coal’s slow movements, his muscles—the very air around him—vibrate with tension.
Our gazes lock, the connection powerful enough to make nothing else matter for a moment.
Then Coal reaches for me, sharply carved muscles moving with liquid grace beneath the thin black cloth of his tunic.
Without meaning to, I push back into the stone. With the exception of the ill-fated choke-hold demonstration, the male has avoided physical contact with me for a month now. The rest, the flashes of memories and pain, those took place in my mind alone. I have no reason to believe he sees me any differently now than he has in the past four weeks. Even with our gazes locked, my wary body doesn’t know what to expect from itself at the warrior’s touch.
“I’m going to take the pressure off your shoulder.” Coal moves slowly, lifting me off the stone floor onto his bent knee, his hands bracing my shackled arm. The shift releases compressed veins and nerves, blood flowing back into my numb limbs with scorching agony.
I bite back a scream, but Coal’s silent, intense gaze stays on me. I know, his blue eyes say. I know.
Once I am able to breathe again, I lean into the male’s shoulder while he checks the manacle holding my wrist. Beyond the world of the two of us, I finally mark another figure in the dungeon cell.
Still stopped at the open door, River stares down at my crumpled form. The patient male who helped me read is gone, a cold, powerful commander in his place. A commander whose orders I disobeyed. There is no emotion in River’s chiseled face, his back as straight here in a dungeon cell as on the parade grounds, his dark brown hair just as flawlessly neat. This is what happens to those who fail to abide by my word, each harsh line of his sculpted body enunciates in silence. I warned you, didn’t I?
My heart hammers against my ribs, my breaths quick through the streaks of pain raking my cramped muscles. River left me here to break me. Punish me. But stupid as it is to tempt his wrath just now, I still lift my chin high, not giving River the satisfaction of seeing me cower.
River steps toward me.
Coal growls, the sound anything but human.
Stopping, River slides keys across the floor instead and leaves without a word.
I hate the relief that washes over me with River’s departure, but savor it anyway. When Coal releases my shackle, the raw skin beneath stinging at the open air, I’m more than a little glad River can’t see my flinch or note how my fingers dig into Coal’s arm.
Giving the swaying world a few moments to settle, I go to stand. Coal catches my waist in time to keep me from landing back on the floor. It takes two more tries for me to conquer my buckling knees, but at least I never make a sound. Not that words seem necessary with Coal.
Coal doesn’t touch me as we wind through the dungeon hallways and step outside—blinking like newborns in the harsh sunlight and inhaling deeply of the fresh spring air—or as we cross the entire courtyard back to the student dormitory, but he stays close enough that I can hear the short puffs of his breathing. The few cadets out and about the courtyard follow the pair of us with their gazes, their eyes burning into my skin. Shutting out the stares, I focus my thoughts on the safety of my room, counting the steps until I can hide away.
“Lera!” Arisha opens the door the moment I start turning the handle, her wide eyes taking me in. Dressed in a yellow spring dress, the girl looks like an awkward sunflower with her frizzy brown hair making up the petals. “What happened?” She reaches for me. “The last I heard, a certain muscular idiot started a brawl and then—”
Coal clears his throat.
Arisha lifts her gaze, her body freezing in place.
Pushing me past Arisha into the room, Coal shuts the door behind us. The entire small space, with its neat white walls and tall spark
ling window, suddenly feels filled to the brim with Coal’s presence. With his masculine scent and sheer size, he’s as out of place here as I’d be in the guards’ bathhouse. “Make yourself busy elsewhere, Tallie.”
Arisha’s face swings toward me in assessment, then back to Coal. Putting her hands on her hips, she glares up at the male who towers head and shoulders above her. “No.” Her soft voice mixes with the sharp tang of anxiety she always has in proximity with Coal. “But I think you should.”
Coal stays put.
Arisha narrows her brows and steps right up to him, like a nearsighted, determined goat, her pale, freckled cheeks tightened in anger. If I could move, I’d throw my arms around my friend and hold her forever.
Coal pivots out of Arisha’s way. “Did you just try to evict me. Physically?” he asks slowly. “To intimidate me into backing out the door?”
Arisha swallows but lifts her face high. “Yes.”
“Did you misplace your mind?” Despite the ferocity coming off him in waves, Coal sounds genuinely curious.
Arisha scowls at him. “It might have worked.”
“Very doubtful.” Coal sighs. “Lera is hurt.”
“Thank you for clearing that up—I was confused as to what all the blood was about.” Arisha pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “And you look little better, in case you were wondering.”
Coal’s blue eyes flash. “I wasn’t.”
Time to intervene. Yanking at its ties, I let the tattered dress slump to a pile at my feet, then, wrapping a blanket around myself, sink into the divine softness of my bed in my underclothes. “Coal helped me back to the room, Arisha. The blood isn’t from him. I…I was wrapped up in yesterday’s fight at the barracks, and River had me held overnight. I’m going to get some rest now. There is little more to it.”
“There is—” Arisha and Coal say at the same time, stopping to glare at each other as soon as the words are out.
I glare at both of them. “I’m fine.”
“Like hell you are,” Coal snaps at me, just as Arisha shouts, “You are not fine.”
Turning back to Arisha, Coal crosses his arms. “I’m not leaving.”
“Neither am I.”
The warrior’s jaw tightens. “Fine,” he says finally, pulling his hair back into its usual tight bun as if preparing for battle all over again. “But if you repeat anything you see, hear, smell, or even bloody think in this chamber for the next hour, I will make your life so painful, your hair will have bruises. Do you understand?”
Arisha’s throat bobs, but she squares her shoulders toward Coal. “And if you harm Lera, I’ll work out a way to castrate you in your sleep.”
“This changes nothing when you are on the training pitch,” Coal says. “I’ll still expect you to do at least one halfway decent push-up. And punish you when you don’t.”
“Agreed,” says Arisha. “And any cooperation now is not a sign that I like you.”
“Agreed,” says Coal.
“Do I get a say?” I ask.
“No.” The pair answer together, this time not even bothering to exchange dirty gazes.
11
Coal
Crouching beside Lera, Coal suddenly realized he didn’t know what to do next. Everything about her filled his consciousness, from the racing pulse that made the hollow of her neck tremble with every beat, to the tightness on the side of her jaw where she clenched her teeth to conceal her pain. Her large chocolate eyes had a guarded look that tried and failed to hide the penetrating stubborn intelligence lurking inside her. Intelligence and pain, a hurt that extended a lot deeper than her strained arm. One day, Coal would find that man he’d seen in Lera’s nightmares and repay him in kind for every beating.
“Shade is still gone.” Arisha set a very well-stocked basket of bandages, salves, and other healer’s supplies on the bed beside Lera. “But this might be of use. I’ll get some water.” The door clicked softly behind her, leaving the dorm room suddenly far too silent.
Coal raised a quick brow at the impressive basket, then returned his attention to Lera. The girl’s small body had an ethereal beauty that made her the object of every man’s fantasy—obviously, given the brawn—but to Coal, it went deeper than that. Coal remembered Lera’s body taking him inside, melding with his in an explosion of power and ecstasy and connection that he’d so expertly destroyed in the month since.
“Let me see the arm,” Coal said, the words too collected to be his own. Maybe Arisha was right and him staying here was a mistake. He’d coupled with Lera and then ignored her for a month, only to spy on her nightmares while she sat shackled in a dungeon cell. That he’d not done the spying on purpose—didn’t even know how the hell it happened—little changed the facts.
From how Lera pulled her arms away from him, she was of similar doubt about the merit of Coal’s presence. “I can take care of it myself, sir.”
Sir. Because Coal was an instructor and Lera a student. He’d gone out of his way to remind her of that, and now he was paying for it.
“You could.” Arisha had returned, and, ignoring his better sense, Coal dunked a cloth into the washbasin she brought over and dabbed the blood on Lera’s arm. “But you didn’t get to this state on your own.”
“Neither did you,” Leralynn said quietly.
Seeming to sense the intensity in the room, Arisha once more slipped out.
Coal paused, then dipped the washcloth back in the basin, turning the water a soft pink. Was Lera referencing the fight or something else? The probing light in her eyes made Coal feel far too seen. His chest tightened suddenly at the eerie notion that he might not have been alone last night. That the tunnel of memories he’d stumbled into might have gone both ways. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, hoping to the stars the lie sounded genuine.
A muscle in Lera’s jaw ticked. When she tried to pull her arm back, Coal held it firm. He wasn’t letting her go. Not yet. The next swipe of the washcloth was harder and longer than Coal had intended, and he opened his mouth to apologize for hurting her—until he noticed what was on the skin beneath. The half-healed slash creeping from beneath Lera’s raised sleeve came from no shackle or training weapon. Coal was fairly certain no one had pulled an edged weapon in the last morning fight, but even if they had, this mark was a bit too old for that.
A fight. Leralynn had been fighting. Coal frowned at the mark, his memory suddenly scraping up River asking him about another injury of Lera’s. One that Lera had told River came from training, though Coal knew it had not.
Lera yanked against Coal’s hold, this time hard enough to reclaim the limb.
Lifting his head, he captured her guarded gaze, ignoring the wave of possessive instinct that made him want to pull the girl against him. The same possessive instinct that made him also want to wring her neck for playing them all. “Who are you fighting when no one watches, Leralynn of Osprey?” he asked.
Lera’s face closed off from him, the distance between them suddenly a cavernous void. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
She flung his own words back at him.
Coal cursed. Even if he’d avoided the topic himself a few moments ago, this outright lie stung. More to the point, whatever Lera was doing clearly wasn’t safe. “You want to try that again?” His voice dropped to low command.
“You want to tell me why you’ve gone out of your way to avoid training with me for the past month?”
“You know exactly why,” Coal snapped with more force than he’d intended. “I’m an instructor, and you are a cadet. What happened between us in the forest cannot happen again. Keeping clear of me is the best thing for you.”
Lera leaned forward, bracing her good arm on her knee. Small, injured, exhausted—and yet she still managed to harness as much power around her as River could. It made Coal proud and furious at the same time. Especially when she spoke, enunciating her words with scalpel-sharp precision. “Then, keep clear.”
Coal closed his eyes. He deserved
that. But it still hurt. The feel of Lera’s body leaning against him in the cell, trusting him to care for her even for a few moments, was the most precious sensation to have touched him in the whole bloody month. And he was ruining it royally. Opening his eyes, he softened his voice to one of consolatory reason. “Whatever is happening, I might be able to help. Trust me, Lera.”
“All right.” Lera tipped her head. “You want trust, Coal? You start. How have you been sleeping lately?”
Coal’s heart skipped a beat, a tremor running along his skin. Had the girl overheard River’s and Shade’s concerns, or had that tunnel of last night’s nightmares truly run in both directions? The notion sounded too insane to entertain seriously, but Lera seeing his memories was no more absurd than him seeing hers. And that had happened, hadn’t it? Well, even if it did—especially if it did—this line of conversation was going no further. “That isn’t your concern,” he said, his voice hitching with his racing heart. “Not now, not ever, Cadet.”
The moment he said it, he knew he’d gone too far.
Lera snarled softly. “You dreamt of clanking chains and heated irons. The stench as they came up behind you so—”
“Shut. Your. Mouth.” His gut twisted, bile burning as it rose up his throat. Pushing away from her, he rose to his feet.
Lera stood in answer, the blanket falling away from her ethereally beautiful body, now vibrating with shattering fury. “What’s wrong, Coal? Don’t like what you’re hearing?”
“I don’t like who is speaking.”
The chill that settled over Lera’s eyes twisted Coal’s stomach, the bang of the iron door falling into place between them echoing through his soul.
With a nonchalance that eviscerated him, Lera jerked her chin toward the door. “You should go, sir. We might give River and the others the wrong impression if you stay in my bedchamber too long.”
12
