by Alex Lidell
“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
Coal
Coal crossed the Academy grounds blindly, unaware of cadets’ wide eyes as he passed, of anything but where he was going. She knew. However it happened, Lera saw the jagged, shattered pieces of Coal’s soul—and found them as vile and pathetic as he did. The nightmares that were getting worse, the darkness ratcheting tighter around Coal’s neck each day. He could barely look at his own reflection nowadays, knowing his memories had somehow been laid open for Lera to sort through… Coal had barely made it out of the cadets’ barracks before losing what little food his stomach held.
Even if Coal stayed away from Leralynn completely, transferred the girl to another class, and never ever crossed paths, the truth would still saturate the air. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face Lera again. Worse still, if that strange bridge between them reopened again, the darkness haunting Coal might assault Lera as well.
A rabid dog, one of the guards had called Coal. How very accurate.
Opening the keep door, he took the keep stairs toward River’s study, two at a time—only to find the man descending the steps.
“Coal?” Stopping on a wide landing with a window overlooking the courtyard below, River arched a dark brow. With his arms behind his back, he made the weight resting on his shoulders seem easy to carry—though the fatigue lining his eyes spoke the truth. Well, at least Coal would shortly be getting rid of one of River’s problems.
“I wished to give you a chance to rip into me properly over yesterday.” Coal slid his hands into his pockets. “I will be leaving after that.”
River pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been unable to find Shade for the past bloody day, and you’ve managed to both corner him and somehow wring a clearance to return to active duty from his jaws?”
“No. But I am resigning my commission. You are within your rights to h
ave me arrested over a number of charges by now, but whether I leave in shackles or free, I will be off the grounds by nightfall.”
River surveyed Coal with opaque gray eyes that gave no hint of his thoughts.
A tight band closed around Coal’s chest, the passing heartbeats sounding louder and louder in the heavy silence. Coal had served under River and Shade for as long as he could remember, and the thought of breaking all ties with the men cut as sharp as a blade.
“I will consider your resignation and let you know my decision by nightfall,” River said finally, as if discussing a proposed change of vendor for cleaning oils. Perhaps he had been waiting for this awhile now. Hoping Coal would realize the toxic effect he had. Straightening his already neat coat, River started down the steps. “Meanwhile, I am on my way to discuss Leralynn’s unintended overnight captivity with Master Han, whom I’d expected to release her. You may join me if you wish.”
“Who the bloody hell is Han?” Coal asked, falling in step.
Despite most of the cadets enjoying the week of holiday liberty, using the time to ride out to the small town near the school, the training pitch at the far end was in active use. From what Coal could see over the expanse of freshly cut grass, Han was working ten cadets—all royal born, save Tyelor of Blair.
The royals, all dressed in training grays, were holding a plank position along the fence. Sweat dripped from their hair, leaving dark clumps in the sand. Judging by Princess Katita’s trembling arms, they’d been at this for some time already. Unlike the others, Tye was climbing a thick rope rigged to hang from a sturdy tree branch some twenty feet up. Moving closer, Coal noted an iron anvil tied to Tye’s ankles, the metal both increasing the weight to be hauled up the rope and preventing Tye from using his legs to help the climb.
“We are all waiting on you, Tyelor,” Han was yelling as River and Coal made their final approach. Tall and muscular, with neat black hair, the new man had a warrior’s body and a sharp smell that made Coal think of cayenne pepper. Dressed in a tight-fitting gray shirt and black pants, Han moved with a speed and balance that spoke of violence despite being plainly unarmed at the moment. Tipping his head back to watch Tye’s ascent, Han raised his voice again. “Every single damn person in this corral is waiting on your pleasure, Master Tyelor. Your feet will be on the ground in the next five heartbeats, or this training starts over. For everyone.”
Coal gave River a sideways look. Tye’s body was already shaking, and, as Han’s threat registered, the athlete pushed his pace at the expense of control. Not a good combination twenty feet up in the air, in Coal’s opinion—though he trained soldiers, not athletic competitors. Twisting upside down around a bar was not a good idea in Coal’s mind under any circumstance.
“Four,” Han called. “Three.”
Tye touched the top branch and started scrambling down, gripping hand over hand, his chest heaving.
“Two,” Han bellowed.
Tye flinched, making a too-hasty grab for the rope. Coal foresaw the inevitable a moment before it happened. Tyelor’s hand slipped, and he slid down the remaining fifteen feet of the rope, the hemp burning off his skin to leave streaks of crimson behind. By the time Tye fell to the ground, his knee striking the anvil’s edge, blood dripped freely from his palms.
Han kicked the sand, sending the grains into Tye’s eyes. “Pitiful and sloppy.”
Tye showed no emotion, his chest heaving as sweat ran down his face.
“I’ve no notion what child’s play you called training up to this point, but I assure you, it won’t be the case any longer.” Han pointed at the rope. “Again.”
River strode up to the corral fence, waiting in that silent way the commander had of getting attention. As usual, the method worked. Han approached the spot a moment later, a small smile tilting his lips.
“I see you’ve already begun assembling the new team,” River said mildly.
Han leaned his back against the fence and nodded. “I have. One moment, sir.” He snapped his fingers at the royals, whose heads swiveled to him at once. “Two laps around the Academy. The last one done will be running extra every day for the next week. Go.”
The cadets scurried off, Katita and two of her cousins leading the way. With all students but Tye gone, Han split his attention equally between his climber and River. “I presume you came to check on your troublemaker, sir.” Han nodded toward the rope. “I feel confident that after today, Tyelor’s desire to get into brawls or break any other Academy regulations will be curbed effectively.”
“I’m heartened to learn that. However, I came to discover why you failed to remove Leralynn of Osprey from the holding cell yesterday.” The chill in River’s voice was enough to set any man’s spine crackling with ice, but Han seemed too busy watching Tye’s progress to mark it.
“Who? Oh, the wench. She isn’t any concern of mine.” With a dismissive shrug, Han pitched his voice up. “Move, Tyelor. Bathe in self-pity on your own damn time.”
Coal felt a growl rise up his chest, but River beat him to it. Clamping a hand on Han’s shoulder, the large commander jerked Han around to face him.
“First, that is the last time you refer to any female at this Academy as wench.” River’s voice was low and dangerous as he stared down at Han. “Second, you were told to set both students free and instead shackled the girl and left without a word. Explain yourself.”
Han glanced at River’s grip as if examining an unsightly slug. “First, Commander River, Leralynn of Osprey—as well as any other student not on my training team—is utterly irrelevant to my position here. I left her cell door ajar and kept her shackle loose enough for anyone with half a brain to work their wrist loose with a few minutes of effort. Beyond that, I expect the young woman’s training instructor to take responsibility for her.” Han’s eyes cut to Coal, the blue-gray in them lined with distaste.
Coal bared his teeth.
Han snorted, returning his attention to River. “Either way, certainly the guards at the prestigious Great Falls Academy can subtract one from two and know there is something left over. If Leralynn’s disposition wasn’t reported back to you, then either your people’s arithmetic or communications skills are lacking. Both of which, like Leralynn herself, are not my concern. Now, let go of my shoulder, sir.”
River released Han, and Coal swore the commander nearly wiped his hand on his trousers before putting it behind his back.
Han turned to Coal. “While we are on the topic of cadet oversight, Lieutenant Coal, please allow me to make myself clear in light of some recent history I’ve learned. I little care who you rut with, so long as it isn’t any one of my athletes. You let your cock, tongue, or even your stars’ damned eyes touch any of my students, and I will cut off your sac and stuff it down your throat. I do hope that is clear enough. Excuse me, gentlemen.”
Coal realized he was moving only when he felt River’s hand dig painfully into his shoulder.
“Leave it,” the commander ordered, half dragging Coal off the pitch.
Coal’s nostrils flared, the pounding in his ears making the whole bloody world pulse in front of his eyes. The moment he and River cleared Han’s sight, he twisted toward the commander so quickly that the other man had to jump back just to keep from being slugged. “Did you hear—”
“Yes, I did.” River matched Coal snarl for snarl. “I heard a man who knows his authority comes from Sage tell me exactly where the lines in the sand are drawn. And, point of fact, the bastard was right. I ordered everyone into custody, so the responsibility to keep track of them was mine. Had the guards not been in utter disarray, they would have reported the situation as Han expected. They didn’t, and I was too preoccupied to notice. That is not a mistake someone with the power to lock people up is allowed to make.”
“That’s it?” Coal’s voice was too calm and quiet for the blood rushing in his ears. There was little point in pushing when River got like this. No, action would come later. “And Tyelor? Or was that near neck-breaki
ng fall also somehow your fault?”
“If Tyelor—and the rest of the cadets in that corral—find Han’s methods unpalatable, there is nothing stopping them from walking away.” River clasped his hands behind his back, his broad chest pressing against his red jacket. Reminding Coal of just who was in control. “Unless Han starts physically forcing the athletes or expands his power outside the team, I’ve matters of greater import to address than how a Prowess coach handles his entirely voluntary group. As for what he said to you—”
“Don’t.” Coal turned on his heels before the fury raging inside him flashed too brightly in his eyes. He was done here. Done but for one last thing that River would do better to know nothing about. Not until it was done. After that—after that, nothing really mattered.
Coal waited atop the Academy’s high wall, crouched against the deep shadow of the night. The curfew bells had sounded hours ago, though with Ostera liberty, several errant cadets were still trying to talk their way past the harried guards. But Coal wasn’t watching for them. He hunted someone else.
Despite being assigned quarters in the instructors’ wing of the keep, Han was yet to move in, his rooms empty. Which meant that sometime tonight, Han would leave the Academy. Most likely, he’d head to one of the two small inns in the Great Fall’s village, though it little mattered. By the time Coal finished his chat with the man, Han wasn’t going to be arriving at either destination—not unless he crawled there.
Han had shackled Leralynn to a cell wall and left her there. Alone and frightened and in pain. Just the memory of the coppery scent of her wrists, her numb fear, made Coal’s blood simmer. For that, Han would pay. The man might have a silver tongue and leverage enough to talk circles around River, but none of that would save him from Coal.
