Page 19 of Great Falls Protector
16
Lera
As the last grains of sand on the large hourglass mark the end of my preparation time, I square my shoulders and walk to the center of the platform, turning to bow my salute to the audience.
The arena has gone silent but for the whistle of wind through the bleachers and a whispering rustle of conversation. The half-empty stands suddenly feeling crowded for the scrutiny they exude. The cadets—all two hundred of them—crowd the top benches, chalks and slates poised on their laps to practice along with the show. In the front row, Katita sits primly beside her father, Tye lounging with his long legs extended on the princess’s other side. Behind them, most of the rest of the Prowess team is gathered as well, a space forming between the sea of red-and-gold uniforms and a gathering of Fothom Kingdom athletes clad in blue silks farther up. Even here, the swarm of servants is ever present, rushing between the benches to refill wine goblets before disappearing back out the far exits, the large head servant I saw earlier berating them as they pass.
As before, my stomach clenches at the sight of that wiry dark hair and towering body, even though my logical mind knows that the man who once tormented me cannot possibly be here at the Academy. Then the servant turns, the light catching the scar crossing his face, and my heart stops beating altogether.
Zake.
My breath quickens, my feet taking an instinctive step away from the dais even as my hands clutch my work slate. Images flash before my eyes at once. A stable. The scent of hay and wine and ripe sweat. Thewhooshof a belt cutting the air.No.With desperate gasps, I focus on the here and now. On the wood floor beneath my feet and the Academy’s flapping flag waving above the keep. I have to be here. Have to think.
Through the haze of rushing blood and rising bile, I focus on the facts. Zake knows me from before the Academy, from before I put the amulet around my neck. Which means the amulet’s magic will not work on him. One quick glance, one twist of Zake’s head toward the stage, and he will know me at once.
And then the bastard can call a whole mob to descend upon me. Given that Zake believes I stole his chance at immortality, he’d do it from pure spite.
Quickly as I can, I step back off the dais, returning to the shadow of the preparation space.
“Lady Leralynn,” River says with a tone suggesting this isn’t the first time he’s calling my name. “It is time to present your answer.”
Performance anxiety?Tye mouths to me from the front row, his cutting smile fading when I just stare back at him, eyes wide.
Stars,the males. Zake met them only briefly a year ago, when the quint magic called River, Tye, Shade, and Coal to cross the Mystwood forest to collect me. How much does Zake remember of them?
“Lady Leralynn, your answer, please.” River raises his voice, a tinge of worry behind the frustration.
River.Zake must have seen River by now. That he’s not raised a fuss about it must mean Zake failed to recognize River on sight, letting the amulet’s magic spin its veil. Not surprising, given that Coal and Tye played the most prominent roles in the initial encounter. Still, would Zake’s recollection change if he saw River and me together, the combination spurring his memory?Fear pulsates through me—for myself, for the mortal realm, for my males, whose veiled minds Zake could rip apart if he said the right words. The sounds of Shade’s and Coal’s agonizing screams when I’d tried to tell them the truth echo through my mind again and again. Truth that Zake can throw at them by accident, even if he doesn’t get it into his head to sic a fae-hating mob after us before we know it.
Stars.My thoughts race, desperately seeking options. But there are none. If I go up on that stage, Zake will find me. See me. Expose me. And then—
I can’t defend the mortals from a gallows. More to the truth of it, I can’t let him harm my males, the mortal world be damned.
“Cadet. Now,” River’s voice snaps in warning, but I’ve not even time to mouth an apology.
Clamping my hands over my face as if holding in bile, I turn my back to the spectators and race for the nearest exit, the chuckles echoing from the stands whispering at my heels. I little care. I need to get away from the arena. Out of sight before Zake’s gaze touches my face.
17
Tye
Performance anxiety?Tye mouthed to Lera as she stood clutching her exam ticket, her wide brown eyes and anxious scent giving him a grim satisfaction. A few more moments, and the lass would choke under pressure. And then she would be gone from Tye’s Academy. From Tye’s team. From Tye’s soul.
She had to be, because Tye had woken up in a cold sweat every night since he’d watched Lera fall from the bleachers. Since he’d lost his last chance with the lass.
Leralynn isn’t Tiga. Leralynn isn’t Tiga.
The words Tye had been repeating to himself over and over still did nothing to ease the tight band around his chest. The heart-shredding pain that ripped through Tye every time his gaze strayed to the lass was as alive as ever. Which was cosmically unjust.
At least Lera refused to speak to him now, after the night encounter with Han’s wrath. Tye shook his head—nowthatwas a stupid reason to get upset, showing just how little the lass understood of competitive athletics. What exactly had she expected that day with Han? The man was a bastard, but he was a bastard who tuned the Prowess Team’s performance to scalpel-sharp precision. Training under Han was an agreement—put up with his cruelty for a competitive advantage, or don’t.
Everyone on the team understood that. Except Leralynn. Which was her problem, not his.
So why did Tye feel like he’d made the greatest mistake of his life in letting her walk away from him?
“The wench is making a fool of herself,” Katita purred into Tye’s ear, watching Lera’s jerking motions with the interest of a house cat following a stray rodent.
“Dinna call her that.” The ire in Tye’s voice made his accent thicker, but the intent of the words was clear enough to make Katita clamp her mouth shut with a frown. Tye refused to look at her, to answer the confusion lining her coldly pretty face. Because he couldn’t explain it to himself either. Lera didn’t matter. Or, more accurately, Lera needed to stop mattering. And quickly.
