Page 19 of Great Falls Rogue
Right. Over my panting breaths, the night still feels like a dream. When I climb to my feet however, the sensations flooding my body reassure me that everything that happened was, in fact, real. Gathering what’s left of my clothes and armor, I cover myself the best I can. “Don’t look,” I tell Shade as I start toward the gathering of thick oaks a few paces away. I don’t know how his looking actually matters since the moment my own veil amulet snaps into place, it will spin a story of its own, but I want to tempt the magic as little as possible.
Once behind the cover of the trees, I take the magical relic out of its pouch and swallow. Shade claimed me. But will he find me amidst the humans? Before the terror of his possible failure paralyzes me, I fasten the amulet around my neck and disappear into the woods.
A cadet keeping clear of an instructor lest he catch her out of bounds.
By the time I meet Arisha on the other side of the escape tunnel—waiting with a patient smile and my rumpled dress and cloak in hand—my throat is so tight that I can barely pull myself together enough to explain my disheveled state. Shade held me. Claimed me. Called out my name. And would not recognize me now if I walked right into him. I can hardly explain why this is so agonizing tomyselfright now, let alone my inquisitive, too-watchful friend.
“I only managed to hit two Yocklols before theNight Guardappeared of all things. It seems they’ve obtained a key to Mystwoodandmanaged to step between the Light and Gloom in the mortal realm,” I force myself to say over the sorrow and longing pounding my soul.
“Stars.” Arisha sucks in a breath. “Plugging a leak of errant magic seeping through faulty wards is one thing, but going against the Night Guard… “
“Could they be responsible for the crumbling wards?” I ask. “Why are they here of all places?”
“Likely the same reason your quint came——this is where the rift in the protective fabric starts.”
“Fair point. Well, unless the rift expands, the Night Guard fae have no more access to magic in the mortal realm than I do, so at least we are even.” I try to shrug one shoulder in feigned nonchalance but end up wincing instead, my traitorous body reminding me of just how sore and drained I am. Whatever dance Shade’s magic did with mine while we mated might have healed the worst of my injuries, but I am still a certifiable mess. “On the brighter side,” I say, starting our trek back to the dorms, “Coal is likely to break me in two in the next morning training, and then I will have to deal with none of this mess. Thatisright, right? Your uncle doesn’t have some prophecy that says a fae comes back from the dead to do work?”
“Actually…” Arisha shoots me a sideways glance that makes my stomach sink on instinct.
“What?”
“The good news,” says Arisha, “is that you need not worry about Coal in the morning.”
“And the bad news?”
“I didn’t want to distract you earlier, but you are to report to River tomorrow morning. The suspicious sort that he is, he’d like to watch as you complete your assignments.” Arisha tries for a smile that doesn’t quite reach her blue eyes. “Look at the bright side, do this once, and we’ll have breathing room for a while.”
13
Lera
Stopping halfway up the long, winding keep stairs to River’s study, I press my back against the cool stone wall on an off chance that brilliance might strike down upon me at the last moment.
It doesn’t.
My mind spins with the taste of a forbidden kiss, of River’s stunned gray eyes. Of his hunched broad shoulders silhouetted against the railing as I ran from the balcony.
Of what transpired betweenShadeand me since then.
I scrubbed the healer’s scent—along with other smells of the night’s fighting—off myself early this morning. But there is nothing I can do for my memories.
Focus.I shake my head.One problem at a time.
The satchel with books I can barely read and math I can’t begin to understand hangs over my shoulder, its weight heavier than any weapon. Despite tossing in my sheets for what was left of the night, I’ve no solution for the looming disaster. The moment River pushes, there will be no hiding the extent of my ignorance. And then…Then you’ll deal with the practical consequences,I tell myself firmly. He can punish me for cheating, force me to repeat the classes for the next decade, lock me in my chamber until I improve. But he can’t expel me from the Academy.
And he can’t ever unknow what he will discover about me. King, meet stable girl.
Swallowing the bile rising up my throat, I force my body back into motion, the spiraling staircase somehow managing to be too long and too short all at once. The bustling Academy grounds glimmer through tall narrow windows, escape growing farther and farther away. Stopping at the second level from the top, I survey the antechamber to River’s study, the pair of benches where visitors are to wait currently empty. The double doors leading to the study itself are thrown open, revealing a room burned into my memory despite a single visit here. Wood-panel-lined walls, a bookshelf, a fireplace—the flames currently banked.
River stands in front of his desk, his back toward me. With his arms braced on the table’s edge and his attention down on something he must be reading, his back forms a muscular triangle beneath a black silk shirt. His shoulder blades are especially pronounced against the soft fabric, which tapers to a narrow waist and fitted pants that outline the male’s muscular backside and thighs. His woodsy scent fills the room, marking it as his.
The sight of River’s perfect, powerful frame dries my mouth—and the male hasn’t even moved a muscle. Hasn’t acknowledged my presence either, though surely his immortal senses have alerted him to my coming. In the silence, I can almost hear the phantom chords of the Ostera ball, River’s sure steps spinning us with a waltz that makes the very stars dance. Biting my lip, I press my thighs tighter together, my body reacting to his sheer physical presence even while my mind screams its warning to me. That was a noble lady he had been spinning. Not me.
The heartbeat of silence between us turns to two. Three. I clear my throat. “Sir? You wished to see me.”
“Yes.” He still doesn’t turn, though his back muscles bunch beneath his shirt. His hand moves, apparently pulling another paper out for his inspection as he motions to a high-back chair a pace away from him. “Take a seat.”
I walk slowly, my hands fingering the strap of my satchel. “I’ll stand.” The words come out softer than I’d intended. I clear my throat and try again. “I’d prefer to stand, sir. If that is all right.”
