by Alex Lidell
6
Lera
“Unification of the c-c-continental kingdoms is both symbolized and furthered by G-G-Great—” Standing at the front of Master Erik’s Understanding Islanders’ Goals and Strategies class, Kerill speaks over the tops of all our heads as if addressing a phantom listener in the ceiling.
“G-G-Get on with it,” Puckler calls from his seat.
Kerill’s freckled face darkens.
Or maybe that’s my eyes closing. My whole body aches. From bruises and strain to an odd knifelike pain that pierces my shin when I step. Despite having inhaled everything in sight for lunch, I was hungry again by the time I walked out of the dining hall—Coal watching my every step with a gaze caught somewhere between righteous and haunted.
And then, then the bastard caught Arisha and bid her to watch me. As if two hours of harsh work had rendered me a cripple.
That last burns the most. Conscripting my own friend in the campaign to patronize me. It would have been different if Coal had forced me into the stream as he once did, or let the unfiltered power of his blows tear me to shreds. But he did none of that. He just pitted me against one human after another after another. Because if I can’t keep up with a few cadets, what chance do I have against immortals?
My jaw tightens. We clearly still have a long way to go before Coal trusts me to defend myself—let alone get myself safely from dining hall to dorm without wasting away. But if he imagines he can make me surrender to self-pity just by throwing a few more runs and sparring matches my way in the meantime, he has another thing coming. I never claimed I was perfect, Coal. Only that I’m the best option we have just now.
At the front of the room, Kerill shifts from foot to foot before starting his sentence again. This time, the stuttering starts on the first word, and Puckler snorts loudly.
I wait for Master Erik to call the royal down, but he just looks on with impassive eyes. Either the impending arrival of the royals’ parents makes disciplining Puckler less attractive, or else Erik wants Kerill to self-select himself out of the Academy. Either way, the master says nothing. Doesn’t even look twice at the Prowess Trials team, all sitting together in their red dress uniforms in the middle of the class. A perfect, colorful island.
Teachers already turning a blind eye to open cruelty—which bodes poorly for the next two months.
“And so it starts,” I mutter beneath my breath as I glare at the back of Tye’s tousled red head, the male’s broad back and shoulders standing out in the crowd no matter what he wears. With his long legs extended in front of him, Tye has an aura of indulgent boredom, equally indifferent to his teammates’ rudeness as he is to the simpering glances of all the female cadets in the place. What’s happening to you, Tye?
The only person Tye actively refuses to make eye contact with is me—which, at this point, I’m ready to take as a compliment. Avoidance has to be better than apathy, doesn’t it? Our coupling in the dungeon now feels like it happened between two entirely different people. I don’t see that Tye anywhere in this one—and that scares me almost as much as Sage’s announcement.
I shift in my seat, my face blanching at sudden knife-deep pain ripping through my left shin. Taking a deep breath, I wait for the blaze to settle down, staring at nothing for several heartbeats. When I rotate my ankle, the muscles along my lower leg seem to creak like a rusty door hinge, and I know I’d feel more crackling if I was to run my hand along my flesh. The thought sparks a wave of nausea to creep up my throat, and I swallow quickly.
Are you all right? Arisha’s note lands on my desk just as I recover.
Fine. My pen hangs in the air a moment too long, a drop of ink fluttering from the tip. When I jerk to save my dress, another knife blade jabs into my shin. Biting my lip, I add two more quick lines. I’m just one big aching bruise. Feel free to leave your unholy alliance with Coal any time now.
The bell rings before Arisha can reply, and I gather my things quickly, aiming to intercept Tye at the exit. As if marking my trajectory, Tye lingers by his seat until I’m too far to change course, then heads for the other door that heads deeper into the keep instead of straight onto the central courtyard.
“Just because I think that watching you for injury is a reasonable idea doesn’t mean I’m in alliance with Coal,” Arisha says with an angry swish of her brown braids as we head toward the dormitories. “After the horseshit he pulled this morning, I hope his arm blazes with infernal flame and Yocklols wither his balls.”
“I’m not injured.” I’m hurting. That’s different. I quicken my step to demonstrate my perfect walking ability, the stabbing pain in my shin making me stumble only once. “Stop looking at me as if you are waiting for a piece to fall off.”
“Fine, you aren’t injured. But you are in pain,” she says, frowning fiercely, her dress a splotch of yellow against the green-walled hedges of the reflection garden. “Tell me how bad it is.”
Right. So she can report it all back to Coal and Gavriel under some Lera’s own good umbrella. My fingers curl over the fabric of my dress. I know Arisha means well, but she doesn’t understand Coal—not like I do. Doesn’t realize that whining about a bit of discomfort would undo everything I’d won by meeting Coal’s morning challenge.
Frankly, the ongoing insistence I lay out my shortcomings for general scrutiny is wearing my nerves down. Five minutes. I want five minutes to lick my wounds without someone pointing out that I have them.
Arisha huffs. “Stop being silly. We need to tell Coal that—”
Heat floods my blood, and I stop short, stepping in front of her. “That what? One morning of a hard workout and I’m ready to whimper and cry? The point isn’t to have him lighten up on me, it’s to gain his respect as a warrior so we can work together to protect the whole damn mortal world. Sniveling isn’t going to get me there.” I take a breath, the corner of my vision marking the one being I want to see even less than Arisha or Coal just now—Shade. The healer’s trained eyes will ask questions that will drain every last drop of my energy to withstand scrutiny. “Listen… I’ll see you in a bit.”
Without waiting for Arisha’s reply, I duck into the tall hedges of the reflection garden, hurrying to make myself scarce before the male might spot me.
7
Shade
As he crossed the central courtyard toward his infirmary, Shade’s muscles woke, a movement beside the reflection garden catching his full attention in that primal way a scurrying rabbit or errant squirrel often did nowadays. Instantaneous and so rousing that if things continued in the same trajectory, he’d be chasing mice for fun soon. Unfortunately, this target of his body’s full attention was not a small animal but a small cadet, her lush curves and lilac scent carried on the breeze driving Shade insane.
Literally.
Because there was nothing normal about the way Shade’s whole attention zeroed in on Leralynn, the way he marked all her movements, from the swinging of auburn hair to the brush of fabric skimming her ankles. To the fact that Leralynn was limping, her usually graceful body rigid as she put on a fake smile for her friend Arisha’s benefit.
Yes, Lera was hurt and trying to hide it. Which made her his professional problem.
Unfortunately.
After how hard Shade’s cock had throbbed yesterday when Lera splayed her hand—her hand, for stars’ sake—on his chest, he little trusted himself. Especially if she was hurt. As if he were a predator sensing blood, Lera’s vulnerability made some primal part of Shade rear up with the need to chase her down. To cradle her against him.
After spending most of Ostera liberty unsuccessfully hunting the woods for an elusive fae female—whom Shade was no longer certain he hadn’t imagined—he at least expected his body’s frustrating fascination with Lera to finally melt away. He’d found his mate, and it wasn’t the cadet. But instead, his fascination had grown, tugging Shade’s soul so hard that he could barely stand being in the same room with Lera without dragging her to his bed. Or the floor. Or the gro
und.
Or against the infirmary wall, cadet or not.
Watching the last of Leralynn’s red dress disappear into the reflection garden, Shade shook himself. He was a professional. An instructor. And he should act as such instead of devolving into a horny dog unable to keep from mounting a bitch in heat.
Plus, if he didn’t see to Lera, someone else would. With the thought of another healer’s hands roaming Lera’s naked body making the hackles stir along his neck, Shade raised his voice. “Leralynn.”
The girl’s steps quickened, the quick flashes of her dress showing through the occasional break in the reflection garden’s greenery.
Shade’s muscles tensed, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the breeze for her scent. Difficult as it was to control himself around the cadet when she was standing still, it was near impossible when she ran from him, the drive to chase and hunt and conquer making his blood roar.
“Leralynn, stop.” Shade dropped his voice to a low, commanding timbre that usually brought wayward soldiers and patients in line. Usually. But not today.
With a soft growl rumbling through his chest, he prowled toward the reflection garden, the serene world of tall green stems and flapping butterflies closing around him. Striding through the labyrinth of blooming rhododendrons and tall bamboo shoot walls, Shade isolated Lera’s lilac scent with an ease that frightened him. As he turned a final corner into an isolated alcove, he found her sitting at the foot of a picturesque stone archway, the burbling fountain and bird feeder behind it providing a rain-like backdrop against the Academy’s sounds. With her red skirt spread casually over her legs, the girl held her beautiful face up toward the sun in a feigned bliss that only added to his straining temper. Her rich auburn hair was pinned up off her neck, showcasing the tempting curve of her jaw and creamy skin.
“Leralynn.” It came out rougher than he’d intended, and he cleared his throat.
Opening her eyes, Lera blinked with an innocence that utterly mismatched the scent of pain and anxiety drifting from her. In fact, Shade would wager that after realizing he’d spotted her, she’d moved deeper into the reflection garden solely to find a place to sit. Because she couldn’t stand very well.
Bracing his arm on one of the archway columns, he glared down at her. “This would be a good time to apologize for ignoring me calling you,” he said evenly despite his speeding pulse. “You can follow that up with an explanation of your limp.”
Lera braced her hands on either side of her stone seat, her face impressively calm. “I apologize. I—I didn’t hear. I’ve a stone in my shoe and was searching for a place to get rid of it.”
Three lies in as many sentences. Shade felt his face harden, knowing he was losing the fight but not sure what winning would look like. “Would you like to try that answer again? You might be surprised to learn that I’m not nearly as stupid or blind as you seem to imagine.”
Lera’s chin rose in a stubborn gesture that looked too familiar by half. “What exactly would you like me to tell you? I trained with Coal this morning, and I’m sore. The same as half the Academy most days. Are you demanding answers from a hundred cadets this morning?”
“No. Only ones I don’t trust.” At least she was done lying about the shoe pebble. “And ones whose instructors ask me to watch them.” Not that Shade had needed Coal’s encouragement to pay attention.
“Not you too,” Lera muttered. Color filled her cheeks, her eyes narrowing as anger seeped into her scent. “I didn’t know spying was part of a healer’s duties these days.”
She was mad at him? Heat simmered through Shade’s blood. He considered himself easy-going most of the time, but not when it came to lies and utter insolence. Few pushed Shade far enough to learn his limits the hard way, and Leralynn had just signed herself up for that list. “Get up.”
“Why?” Lera’s face twitched with weary suspicion.
“Get up,” Shade repeated icily. “We are going to the infirmary.”
“But—”
“Unlike even Headmaster Sage himself, as an Academy healer, I’ve the power to remove you from all physical training with a single stroke of my pen.” Pushing away from the column, Shade put his hands in his pockets. “Continue this dance of lies and evasions, and I’ll put an end to the whole thing so efficiently, it will leave your head spinning.”
8
Shade
As they made their way across the Academy grounds, the occasional student casting them a curious look, Shade felt like a warden escorting a prisoner to an execution block. The effort Lera put into not limping was enough to make him swallow another growl. Did the cadet not understand how her every evasion only fed Shade’s drive to hunt, straining his self-control until it trembled?
No. Of course she didn’t. Neither did he.
“Last chance to speak truthfully before I stop wasting my breath on questions.” Shade closed the infirmary door behind them, the thick scent of salves and tonics overwhelming after the fresh outdoor air. With her shoulders bare and gown clinging to a supple waist before billowing in a cascade of red skirts, Lera was making him hard just by standing near him. Leaning a hip against a countertop, he crossed his arms and waited.
Leralynn scowled at him and remained silent.
Shade sighed. “Very well. Strip.”
A muscle ticked in the girl’s jaw. For a second, Shade thought—hoped—she would break, talk to him. Stop this absurd battle of wills.
Instead of melting, Lera reached back to take off her gown, the fabric spilling onto the floor as she released each hook with a soft snap, snap, snap. Heartbeats later, instead of a pliable cadet, Shade had Lera standing before him in her underclothes, looking even more tempting—and more hurt. The girl’s thighs and hips were shifted to take weight off the left leg, her creamy skin marred with dark bruises that disappeared under her chest wrap and thin white undershorts. An especially wince-worthy mark, likely originating at one of the many vessels on the side of the groin, spilled from beneath the remaining cloth. Not that Lera gave any indication she was even aware of her injuries’ existence.
Stars. The combination of stubbornness and vulnerability wafting off the girl prodded at the leashed predator inside Shade. Remaining where he stood, towering over her, Shade nodded to Lera’s remaining covering. “Keep going.”
His last play.
The spots of color flooding Lera’s cheeks were too delicious by half, and Shade swallowed a sigh of relief. He truly preferred the role of a kind healer to that of interrogator and once Lera asked him for something—a blanket, an averted gaze, a moment to herself—the dynamic would shift. The girl would acknowledge she was a patient in Shade’s infirmary and cooperate as such.
Lera’s lips parted. Closed. And, with no further hesitation, she pulled at the end of her chest wrap.
Shade froze.
Lera did not.
A mix of hunger and horror washed over Shade as he watched Leralynn unwind the cloth. Everything Shade’s body screamed at him was the very opposite of good bedside manner, yet he could do nothing to banish the thought. As she slipped out of her briefs, taking extra care to fold them as if her nakedness little bothered her, Shade forgot to breathe.
He’d been a fool. He should have known the girl—this girl—would wage their stubborn war to its bitter end. Which now left him with a very naked cadet, a very throbbing cock, and a deafeningly roaring conscience.
Lera’s perfect, lush breasts rose into pink tips that begged to be suckled. Lower down, the smoothly flared hips opened to a perfect width to wrap around a man. And her mound, covered in damp auburn curls… Stars.
Shade closed his eyes for a brief moment that he knew Lera wouldn’t miss. Lilac filling his senses, Shade gathered every bit of strength inside himself. When he opened his eyes once more, he was a healer.
Ribs to toes, splotches of bruises covered Lera’s satin skin. The particularly large one Shade had noted earlier indeed started at the crease on the left of her groin, where someone had la
nded a lucky blow. Coal had said he was pushing Lera hard, but hearing and seeing weren’t the same. Especially when it came to the girl before him.
Without waiting for instruction, Leralynn hoisted herself up onto the exam table, her auburn hair falling freely over bare shoulders. Stretching herself flat, she curled her hands around the table’s edges, her knuckles blanching in the first true echo of her vulnerability. Beneath her bruised skin, Lera’s chest rose and fell with too quick breaths, the pulse in the hollow of her neck fast and thready.
Shade’s gut twisted. Lera was stubborn and insolent and incorrigible. And caring and nervous and frightened. Of him. Which Shade was quickly discovering he had no appetite for. Leralynn had had a hell of a morning, and Shade had thus far succeeded only in making her afternoon worse.
“You know, most people feel better after seeing me.” Shade softened his voice to a healer’s trained cadence. As he spoke, his hands were already roaming along Lera’s head and ribs, his eyes watching for any sign of pain the bruises couldn’t account for. “It is what the Academy thinks it’s paying me for.”
Lera’s brows tightened for a moment before she schooled her face to the same false flatness she’d had since the reflection garden.
“You don’t believe me?” Shade asked, surprised by how much the implication bothered him.
“I think you believe it.”
Making a noncommittal sound, Shade palpated the slightly swollen shin he’d been eyeing since the girl undressed. Unsurprisingly, the tissue crackled beneath his touch, as if a hundred tiny bubbles took up residence in the muscle. Seeing Lera’s body go rigid, he lightened his touch—though he’d pressed lightly to begin with. “Is that what hurts the most?”
