Page 36 of Great Falls Cadet
Coal’s brow rises, right along with perfect stubborn chin. “Did you imagine you’denjoyyour punishment?”
My body, which I thought unable to do much of anything just now, rouses. “That wasn’t punishment, you bastard. That was—”
“Yes?” Coal leans forward, his powerful forearms braced on his thighs. No apology, no regret in his now-hard face. “Tell me what you thought that was.”
I open my mouth and close it without speaking. Coal did try quite a few options to inspire misery first and, in the end, did no damage. Left no scars like the ones Zake’s belt would have. Zake had taken pleasure from hearing of my nightmares, seeing me tremble at the sight of his leather. Coal held me down with his words, not his hands. Had watched. Had pulled me out of the water when my own stubborn mind refused. But it was still horrible. Worse than horrible. “It doesn’t matter. You wanted me to quit, and you have your wish. So you need not feel ‘out of line’ for anything.” Turning away, I go about gathering what remains of my clothes for inspection. “I’m not an Academy cadet, and you aren’t my instructor. Nothing of consequence happened here today.”
Coal’s eyes bore into my back. I know he knows my words for a lie. Coal felt something—and not just in his cock.
My chest tightens, and I turn away, forcing my attention to working out the logistics of covering myself with the remains of my pants and shirt while I return to the Academy to take the rest of my things. Because I know now—I will be leaving.
At the stream, I’d thrown the words at Coal to get him to back away, believing the point would turn moot once the rune restored the males’ memories. But without the tablet, I’ve exhausted my options here and will have to search elsewhere. The realization sends dread spiraling through me, and grief at the thought of leaving my males. But I’m the last remaining member of the quint who knows the quint even exists—this is what any one of them would do in my place.
Behind me, Coal’s efficient rustling motions are too loud for the dark void in my mind.
“Who hurt you?”
“What?” I refuse to turn toward him, lest his familiar lithe body pulls my heart back toward it. “What are you talking about?”
A calloused finger traces my back, refusing to stop when I tense beneath his touch along my scars. Ah. That. I open my mouth to respond and feel the amulet around my neck warm in reminder. Leralynn of Osprey was raised in a mansion, not a stable. “The lord who took me in as his ward required strict discipline.”
A low quiet growl that a human may not have heard escapes Coal’s throat.
I pull away, his touch on my skin feeling too good. “Where did you get yours?”
Silence. I turn, holding my torn shirt to cover my breasts, and find Coal’s hard face, defined cheekbones, and jaw sculpted into unyielding stone. The same face he doubtlessly uses to keep anyone stupid enough to ask that question from ever asking again.
I lift a brow.You started it.
A muscle tics in Coal’s jaw, his silence simmering. I sigh, shrugging a now too-cold shoulder. I know more about Coal’s slavery in the dark realm than he does just now, our odd magical connection having shoved his memories and nightmares into my consciousness more than once. I wonder what his new fogged mind makes of those dreams. If he still has them at all. Perhaps it’s better that he not tell me, for the way things are between us now, I’ve no way of salving the wounds the words would open.
I turn away again, wrapping the remains of my shirt around me like a wet towel. At least the pants are more or less salvageable.
“I was captured by the islanders while fighting on the coast. They kept me prisoner for some time. Most of the scars I imagine you refer to are from my time there.” Coal’s low voice moves around me until the male crouches inches from my face. His gaze surveys my body with a soldier’s experienced evaluation, lingering on pale, goose-bumped skin and shaking muscles. Whatever the afternoon’s sparring and stream and storm hadn’t already taken from me, our little bout of physicality did, the small burst of Coal’s shared strength now fading.
Taking off his shirt, Coal pulls it over my head in lieu of my rag.
“I don’t need your help,” I say, going to pull it back.
Coal’s hard grip captures my elbow. “I didn’t ask. I brought you out of the Academy walls this afternoon, and it is my responsibility to take you back. What you do afterward is your own business. Can you walk?”
“I will walk.”
“That’s not what I asked,” says Coal.
I sigh and rub my face, the fatigue washing over me so sudden and strong that I realize I’m swaying only when the male’s strong arms steady me. I swallow, too exhausted to fight. “What if I told you there was a fae-made artifact that I passed on the way to the Academy?” I say, studying my hands as I speak. “And that I wanted to retrace my trail to find it before the rain washed away the path.”
Coal curses. Colorfully. Despite my sagging muscles, he grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard, forcing me to look into his face. “If you told me something that stupid, I’d tell you that Grayson—the nearest town to Great Falls—just executed two of its people on charges of fae craft. And then I would shove you right back into the stream until you set your head on straight. So it is fortunate that you intend to say nothing of that sort.”
“I was jesting,” I whisper quickly, and Coal lets me go as if he held heated stone. He makes quick work of pulling his blond hair back into a low bun and somehow, within five seconds, even shirtless, he looks as confident and put-together as he did this afternoon. Rubbing my arms, I push myself up to my feet. Once standing, I pause with my hand on the rock, my one last final card to play. Not because it’s smart, but because I have to know and may get no chance after this. “Can you do one thing for me?” I ask, my shoulders tensing as he grunts in tentative consideration. “Touch your ear.”
“My own ear?”
“Yes,” I snap, watching his face, my chest still, my pulse pounding. “Your own ear. Touch it.”
Giving me a worried look, Coal reaches for his right ear, his fingers skimming the bottom.
“The top of your ear.”
