Page 45 of Great Falls Rogue
Sitting atop one of the countertops in Shade’s infirmary, I give the shifter a smile. Truth is, despite savoring the chance to see him after our forest coupling, I am actually here because Coal is driving himself—and everyone else—insane. And I don’t just mean the memories leaking through our bond. “Wait for Lieutenant Coal to answer your question, and then tell me whether you still think so.”
Coal growls softly, pulling his arm back from Shade. His blond hair is in its usual tight bun, but in every other way, he looks a dire mess. There are deep shadows under his eyes from the same nightmares that are waking me up each night, his skin is blanched with pain, his fingers twitch with unspent energy. “I’ve been in a sling for almost aweek,Shade, and the muscle is already melting like butter near a stove. Come up with a better plan than turning me into an invalid. Strength training. Potions. Something. Otherwise, this sling is going into the next fire I see.”
I raise a brow at Shade.See what I mean?
Shade pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are upset because you’ve been in a sling for one bloody week? Coal. Listen to me. You have ashattered arm.That means there are sharp little shards of bone that aren’t connected, which—if you take off the splint—will grind against each other every bloody time you move. You can’t force it to mend faster by ignoring it, straining it, or drinking brews. It needs rest. Immobilized rest. Unless you think I’ve some magic I’m unaware of, your only option is a splint and sling.”
My hands curl around the edge of the counter, the sharp scents of camphor and cajuput, clove and mint, filling my lungs. Without meaning to, Shade just outlined the crux of the problem exactly: in Lunos, without the mortal world’s shackles, Shade’s magic mends bones well enough that Coal little hesitates bruising my ribs in training. Which means that for the past three hundred years, all the quints warriors have learned to fight like there were no limits on their bodies, relying on Shade’s healing magic to make fractured bones whole. A dangerous instinct in the mortal world.
Coal’s veil-fogged mind doesn’t remember this, but his body does. And it’s straining his soul as badly as the injury itself, letting the darkness wrap itself tighter and tighter around him. Coal is a warrior at his core, one who can’t live with himself if he can’t fight—and now his own body is another set of shackles. A problem that his shared nightmares make clear enough.
“Listen to him, Coal,” I say quietly. “Please.”
He turns piercing blue eyes on me, making me instantly regret saying anything. “Go to hell.”
“I visit it every night,” I snap back. “A bloody repetitive place, if you ask me.”
Coal’s eyes darken for a moment, a swirl of some unreadable emotion in them making me wish I’d kept my mouth shut—again. Then he faces Shade, turning his back to me with the subtlety of a three-year-old. “Find a better option.” Sliding off the exam table, he storms out of the treatment room with a rush of black leather and male musk, slamming the door hard enough to make the medicine vials tremble.
Shade and I both reach to steady the fragile glass before it shatters, the male’s scent enveloping me as his arm stretches across my lap. Damp earth, the air fresh from rain mixed with a bit of wolf, all drowning out the pungent smell of herbs and salves that give the infirmary’s air a confusingly sharp tang.
Shade freezes, his yellow eyes dilating slightly as his nostrils flare. Taking in my scent like I take in his. That quickly, I’m back in the moonlit woods on Ostera, Shade’s body moving over mine, my desire and magic flaring up like a blaze as he enters me. My thighs clench at the memory of his cock raking across the ridges in my channel, the pain of my closing wounds turning into molten heat that enveloped my apex. Of my name, loud and clear on Shade’s lips, ringing across the dark forest as he found his release. As he remembered me.
That feeling of being recognized by one of my males, even for just an instant, still makes my chest clench with longing. I’d give anything to have that feeling again—anything short of messing with their veils. Arisha is right to be worried about Coal’s and my bond. There’s no telling what the shared nightmares could do to his mind if the amulet deems them too dangerous. No telling what they could do to us both if things continue as they are either.
“I…” Shade steps away from me so quickly that the very bottle he was trying to save topples onto its side. With his black hair hanging loose at his shoulders, his strong jaw and tanned skin give him the exotic feel of a predator in civilized clothing—the very thing, I’m pretty sure, that makes the Academy’s entire female population go weak on sight. He clears his throat. “I beg your pardon. And I’m sorry I was not able to give Coal better news. Was there anything else you needed?”
Warmth fills my cheeks. I try not to flinch at Shade’s cool, professional words, the echo of his touch on that mossy stream bank still tingling across my skin. Frowning at the closed door, I force my mind to anchor itself back in the here and now.
The here and now being one unreasonably angry fae warrior. “I realize you can do little for a fracture, but can’t you give Coal something for pain? He said nothing about that, but…”
“But broken bones hurt. A lot.” Shade’s voice regains its casual cadence, his golden eyes kind and professional once again. “And yes, I could—but I’m not going to.” He holds out his palm, warding off my objections before I can voice them. “Right now, pain is the only thing keeping Coal from doing himself greater harm. It’s the body’s protective mechanism hollering to cut the stupidity. If he won’t mind me, perhaps he’ll mind it.”
Fair point, even if I don’t like it. Sighing, I go to hop off the counter—only to halt midmotion, my eyes caught on an extinguished overturned candle. Beneath the dripped wax, a small singed spot in the cloth scratches at my thoughts.
Since inadvertently lashing out with Tye’s fire magic in the midst of last night’s nightmare, I’ve tried—unsuccessfully—to reengage the power trapped by the mortal world’s shackles. Whether my failure signals the wards’ resilience or simply my own lack of magical experience and power, is an unfortunate unknown.
Yet while purposeful manipulation of magic remains out of my reach, the number of accidental discharges is growing by the day—each instance tied to an intense connection between the males and me. Which, unfortunately, supports the inexperienced-Lera theory—the wards little care whether Imeanto use magic, so if mine leaks sometimes, then so does the Night Guards’, except they no doubt have better control than I. They certainly can’t have worse. Which all means I should do better than I am. That the wards allow any magic through is a very bad thing, but if the magic is leaking regardless, I should be making better use of the scraps.
I rub my thigh, the once-harsh wound there from my battle with the Night Guard now nothing more than a thin pink stripe. Why? Because Shade’s magic awoke during our coupling, his healing power flowing through the connection to heal my injuries. My heart quickens, the possibilities opening before me.
Shade can’t heal Coal. But could I?
Although I lack Shade’s skill, I do have healing magic. A cord of power that mirrors Shade’s, just as the other strands of my magic mirror River’s and Tye’s and Coal’s. As a human weaver, I could only echo the males’ abilities, but as fae, the magic belongs to me outright. And it grows stronger when connected with the males.
I bite my lip, my thoughts racing. Mysecondcoupling with Tye made my fire magic strong enough to escape its mortal binds during the fight with Han, and then again last night. Could coupling with Shade again strengthen the healing magic inside me enough to make it usable? To let me heal Coal’s fracture?
“Leralynn?” Shade frowns at me. “Is everything all right?”
Sliding down to the floor, I cover the few paces between us with slow, deliberate steps, suddenly grateful that I’ve already changed into a low-cut gown for dinner. A shimmering moss green that glows in the early evening light slanting through Shade’s window. Even at a distance, Shade’s desire for me is evident in bulging clarity, my own thighs moistening at the sight. His fresh, earthy scent surrounds me as I get closer, and I have to stop myself from inhaling deeply like a starved animal approaching supper. Stopping beside Shade, I lay my palm on his chest, my fingers splayed over the soft wool of his sweater. The rock-hard muscle beneath.
Shade’s nostrils flare delicately, the wolf inside him no doubt scenting my arousal. The male’s breaths come too fast, his fingers opening and closing at his side as if unable to contain the tension.
I lick my lips, unable to keep from imagining something very long and velvety and delicious between them. “Shade—”
Shade’s throat bobs, his attention narrowing on my mouth as a small shiver runs along his broad chest and shoulders. When his hand closes on my wrist, the large strong fingers wrapping around me easily, I can already taste him along my tongue.
He pushes my hand away. Kindly, but firmly enough to make his point. “If I recall the schedule correctly, liberty ended this afternoon.” His voice is low. Raspy. “The Academy intends to welcome us back with a formal feast. I should go get ready.”
