Page 18 of Mistake of Magic
Another gift, the training and the resulting fatigue. The one sort of balm that Coal can offer my fraying nerves. It almost works too. Almost.
The sun has set by the time we return to the suite. I smile weakly at the males, whatever borrowed strength that fueled me through the day choosing this very moment to depart my body.
“I’m going to bed,” I declare, not waiting for a response, ignoring the sharp cut of River’s eyes, the tick in Coal’s jaw, and Tye half rising to stop me as I walk back to my room. The moment I’m inside, I turn to shut the door at once, staying with my forehead pressed against the thick wood.
It takes me three slow breaths to find enough strength to reach up and engage the latch. Once I do, I slide down to my knees, my palms rasping against the finely carved wood. Tears I didn’t know were flooding my eyes now spill down my cheeks, my body trembling like a frightened rabbit’s. I’m tired. I’m scared. And I’m so damn confused that I can’t think straight. Some bloody quint warrior I am.
My fingers trace the runes on my neck, as they have over and over since the damn marks were burned into my skin. Four cords. Not five. Because one of us doesn’t belong here, no matter how brave a face the males put on, how much they pretend that having to repeat their Citadel initiation for my sake is no great burden. That today’s surrender, spurred into existence by nothing other than my fear, is naught but a small inconvenience.
I’m mortal, not stupid. I can see through their facade as easily as they can create it.
Scrubbing my sleeve across my face, I sniffle as softly as I can and turn toward my bed—only to stumble back toward the door as a sudden light flashes atop my covers.
Shade.
I glower at the wolf curled against my pillow, its nose tucked piously under its tail. He’s been here all along, watching me break to pieces and then shifting before I could make him explain the damn intrusion. “Get out,” I say quietly. “Or I will. And don’t pretend you can’t understand me. You bloodysmellmy meaning.”
Nothing.
“Fine.” I turn, reaching for the latch. My hand is halfway there when the light flashes again and a guilty-looking male replaces the giant gray wolf on my bed. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” Shade says sheepishly, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress to brace powerful forearms on his knees. Dressed only in the black uniform pants, which mold around his waist, thighs, and more, Shade is his usual shirtless self. Powerful muscles bunch under smooth, tan skin as he flexes his fingers. His golden eyes flick to mine, then to the floor. “By the time I realized you wished to be alone, it was a little late to announce myself.”
I wrap my arms around my ribcage, my back against the door. “If the next words out of your mouth are ‘what’s wrong’—”
“I was rather planning on keeping my mouth shut.” Shade rises from the bed and walks slowly toward me, extending a hand that stops just short of brushing my shoulder. Even after the long day, his body is lithe and deadly, each flick of muscle an economy of lupine motion. His yellow eyes brush my body hungrily, sending a reflexive jolt of fire through my core. My hands long to touch him, even as I want to shove him out the window.
Shade’s nostrils flare delicately against my neck. “You are freezing, cub.”
“No, I’m not.” I rub my arms. Now that he’s said it, though, I realize Shade is right. I am cold. A bone-deep weary chill of stress and fatigue that no amount of blankets could conquer. The fact that the male knew it before I did sends another jolt of heat through me. “I mean, it’s nothing a bit of sleep won’t cure.”
Shade moves closer—which I would have thought impossible—until he’s bracing his hands on the door on either side of my head. His broad frame fills my world, his dark hair and yellow eyes forming a cocoon. The moonlight coming through my window silhouettes the hard cut of his hips. “I have a better idea.” His whisper brushes my cheek, his wolfish scent and my own rebelliously growing need trapping me as securely as any rope.
Shade’s soft lips graze the corner of my mouth and trail up my neck, leaving tiny burning footprints all the way to my ear. “Trust me?”
I can’t answer. Can’t speak, for fear of him pulling away from me. My self-control is worn too threadbare for such heroics.
Shade’s arms slide over my body, hooking beneath my knees and shoulder blades. My breath catches in my throat as the male lifts me against his chest and strides smoothly to the window, its curtains pulled back to welcome the star-filled sky. Opening the latch with one practiced motion, Shade vaults over the sill and onto the damp grass below. Even with me in his arms, Shade lands softly on the balls of his feet and carries me off into the darkness.
11
Shade
Shade hadn’t meant to intrude on Lera. He truly hadn’t. By the time he realized hewas, it was too late. Moving easily through the night, he pressed her to his chest. The cold air brushing his skin was startling against the girl’s warmth, the combination alone rousing his senses.
Shade knew he was playing with fire. With the same delicious, loin-gripping, soul-consuming flames that had guided him free of a decade in wolf form and now challenged him to live every moment of the now. And therein lay the problem.
Shade had known he was in love with Lera since he first shifted form, but the wolf part of him, it wasn’t one for subtle. Not when itwanted.And certainly not when itclaimed.Which it was a breath away from doing, whether or not Shade’s higher senses gave permission.
If the wolf had had its way, Shade would have claimed Lera nearly two weeks ago. And then proceeded to tear apart anyone and anything that got too close to his newly claimed mate. It was an instinct poorly conducive to a healthy quint, and it wasn’t one that Lera would likely tolerate, not with that streak of bravery and independence of hers that made Shade’s breath catch on a regular basis.
The other males knew, of course—smelled how close to mating his wolf was becoming—and each in his own way had warned Shade to mind his animal or keep the bloody hell away from the girl. Since the latter was impossible, it would have to be the former. No matter how trying the night was likely to become.
Lera’s eyes were drooping closed as she entrusted Shade with her body like he’d asked. He lowered his nose to her hair, inhaling the way her lilac scent mixed with the crisp night air one more time, before opening the heavy door leading down, down, down a spiral staircase. The slight taste of sulfur filled Shade’s mouth at once, along with a damp kind of chill. The candlelit air grew thicker as they descended, an odd fog haunting the passage.
Lera opened her eyes, blinking in delicious wonder as the sound of rushing water echoed from the stony depths, growing louder with each step. A final turn, and the spiral staircase yielded to a vast cavern—one of the Citadel’s priceless treasures.
Thousands of candles, each as unique as the rocky shelf it stood on, burned with flames that consumed none of the delicate wax. The flickering lights reflected in the half dozen pools of water, some still and others bubbling, that made up the cave’s underground springs. “Welcome to the bathhouse,” Shade said softly.
“Bathhouse? That word is woefully inadequate.” Lera’s velvety brown eyes sparkled as she looked around. The magic of watching her see the cavern’s springs and geysers for the first time was already making the excursion worth it. That was one of the human’s most irresistible charms—everything was new and rich and exciting. It was as if Shade could live every wonder of life all over again through Lera. She cleared her throat. “Where are the... bathers?”
