by Alex Lidell
The male’s eyes glitter with amusement. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Lera,” he drawls, his voice pulsing with a cockiness that I’ve a sudden desire to knock out of him. I know I should probably be terrified of the male, but instead I’m thinking that, if not for his ears and ethereal beauty, I’d imagine him just a few years older than I am, with his maturity perhaps lagging behind his body’s dominating strength. Gaze firmly on my pitchfork, the male steps neatly around Zake and bows. “I’m Tye. And if it’s an option, lass, I would prefer not to be skewered.”
2. Leralynn
“Please forgive my servant’s impudence, my lord,” Zake says quickly, bowing as he steps between me and the fae warrior again. Zake’s voice drips with desire, like a salivating dog. “It is but a misunderstanding. It is I, not this wench, who’s waited for you here at Mystwood’s edge. I will of course fulfil the honorable request you make of my estate.”
Tye gives Zake a dismissive look and raises a bemused eyebrow at me, as if to say, Who the hell is this?
“Excuse us.” Grabbing my arm, Zake pulls me out the back door of the stable, his large fingers leaving bruises above my elbow. The cold pierces me from all sides, cutting brutally through my thin clothes, but my blood is racing too quickly to worry about the chill. Zake’s nostrils flare, a vein ticking along his temple. “What the hell is this?” he hisses into my face, his rank breath shoving itself inside me. “You think to steal my destiny from under my very nose?”
I try and fail to wrench my arm from his grasp. “I’m not stealing anything.” My breath mists, the words coming quickly as I spot his free hand unbuckling his heavy belt. “I’ve not even laid eyes on a fae male before now, Zake. I swear it on the bloody stars.”
“Is this why you tried to stop my hunt?” Zake snarls into my face. “You wanted to intercept the immortal before he reached me?” His meaty hand turns me around, pressing my head against the barn’s side as the belt uncoils behind me. “What did you offer him, wench? Your maidenhead? Tell me the truth now, girl—it will only hurt more if you lie.”
“I’m not lying,” I say, my body already bracing for the coming blows. “Zake—” I clamp my mouth shut as the belt whistles through the air. There is no stopping this now, and little reason to waste breath that I’ll need shortly.
A furious growl rips through the air. Just when my back is supposed to explode in flame, a dark shape hurtles out of nowhere. Before I can blink, Zake is in the dirt, a large wolf prowling over him. The wolf’s lips pull back, revealing wet canines that glitter in the sun, its thick gray pelt and black muzzle bringing me straight back to last night’s dream.
I gasp, stepping away—and knock right into a wall of muscle and maleness. Tye, the smiling red-haired fae male, is no longer amused. The green-eyed stare he gives Zake is filled with the promise of violence. Not that there will be much of Zake left if the wolf has his way.
“What’s going on back here?” says a quiet voice. A new fae male strides out of the stable, this one dressed in warrior black and sporting a glare that says he’s one breath away from razing the whole estate to the ground. If Tye is an overgrown adolescent, the newcomer is a deadly killer, with long blond hair tied up in a bun, a chiseled jaw, and piercing blue eyes that seem to strip me and find me wanting in one glance. The wicked-looking blades strapped to his waist and back complete the effect.
“Just a wee misunderstanding,” says Tye. “I have it handled.”
The warrior snorts. “That’d be a first.”
Tye sighs in a long-suffering way. “Lera, this is Coal. Try to ignore him the best you can.”
Coal crosses his arms, his eyes finishing their examination of the soon-to-be-dead Zake and the salivating wolf before coming to a stop on my face.
As with Tye, a ripple of recognition races through me, though I’m certain I’ve never seen this male before. My instincts scream at me to run, even as the male’s eyes draw me toward him, the corded muscles of his forearms and shoulders making my breath quicken.
“Time to go, lass,” Tye murmurs into the back of my neck. A command. An invitation. A challenge.
Murderous fae. Mystwood. Broken bones.
My heart pounds, even as my body feels the rightness of Tye’s words and aches to accept them. I swallow, feeling as though the male has claimed me already. And not just him. Five, my soul seems to whisper.
Five what?
Five. There should be five. Has to be five.
Still pinned to the ground, Zake whimpers, his hoarse voice forcing itself between the males and me. “Call off your beast. Please. You can have the wench if you want her. A present. A goodwill—”
“Enough games.” Coal pulls out his sword, the steel sighing against the sheath. “I’m putting it down.”
He doesn’t mean the wolf.
I shudder. “Don’t.” My words are a hopeless whisper, but both males and even the wolf snap their heads to me at once, their eyes questioning. As if what I say matters—what I want matters. I take a tentative breath, wondering how far this input of mine will carry. “Zake doesn’t deserve to die.”
“Yes, he does,” says Coal, his words ice. The wolf growls his agreement.
“He does,” Tye says behind me. “But it is your choice to make, lass. We will not touch him if you wish it so.”
My heart pounds against my chest, bruising my ribs. This morning I’d had a say in exactly nothing, and now these immortals, these fae males who could raze or rule the entire mortal world if they wanted to, are placing Zake’s life in my hands. They want to hurt him. But they won’t. For me. “Let him go.” My voice is thin, as if trying to hide itself in case this evening is one big jest. “Please.”
Coal scowls at Zake but sheathes his blade. Tye’s warm breath shudders against my neck. The wolf is the last to obey, snapping his teeth inches from Zake’s eyes before stepping off the prone man, lifting his leg, and urinating.
I clamp my hand over my mouth to bite back a very inappropriate chuckle.
“So you do have a sense of humor,” Tye says approvingly from behind me, wrapping his cloak around my shoulder. I don’t know what the cloak is made of, but it is the warmest thing I’ve ever worn, with thick green woolen cloth and a fur lining that caresses my skin. The smell of pine and citrus fills my nose, matching the scent of the male behind me.
“Get out of here, traitor,” Zake roars at me from the ground. “I always knew you were nothing but a cursed wench, a common wh—”
The wolf leans over him again with a fierce growl and Zake shuts his mouth, but there is no unsaying the words.
I can no longer stay at Zake’s estate, and there is no place for me to go but wherever these immortals take me.
3. Tye
Lera’s hand clamped over her mouth, stifling a chuckle as Shade’s piss soaked the piece of excrement calling itself Zake. Her laughter’s soft vibration echoed through Tye’s body, and for the first time since Lera’s hand had tightened on the pitchfork, Tye felt hope stir in his chest. She might come with them. This ferocious, brave, fragile, beautiful woman might come with them to Lunos. With quint-called fae, there was never a question—once the magic chose its prey, there was no physical resistance one could offer against the need to bond with the quint. But magic seemed to work differently on the mortal lass.
Lera could say no.
And Tye’s heart raced like the wind in terror of that one word. Which was not something the others needed to know. He made himself grin. “So you do have a sense of humor.”
Shade finished urinating and used his back paws to toss a bit of dirt onto the wet form. Zake truly deserved worse, but Tye and his quint brothers would stand by Lera’s word. This was her territory, her conflict, her decision.
Unclasping his cloak, Tye eased the rich green fabric from his back and wrapped it around Lera’s slender shoulders, ignoring Coal’s hard glare. Tye was not marking the female with his scent—the lass was ice cold and it chafed Tye to see her so. Coal might consider free
zing to be a character-building exercise, but other sentient beings could certainly disagree.
Plus, whether Lera accepted the cloak or not was likewise her choice.
Tye hid a smile as Lera pulled the fabric around herself, inhaling deeply. Her body softened, the tension in her shoulders easing. Tye’s nostrils flared, savoring the subtle scent of her pleasure. Her other, more dominant scents were already familiar to him. Sweet hay and lilac flower, tinged with something fresh and rich, like ripe berries. Lera’s hair, a warm reddish brown, fell away to expose her neck, which throbbed with her rapid heartbeat. Tye’s cock twitched, his mouth longing to press over the female’s trembling pulse.
“Get out of here, traitor,” the trash on the ground roared, disgustingly oblivious to just how close he was to being put down. “I always knew you were nothing but a cursed wench, a common wh—”
Shade growled. Shade’s wolf was intelligent, but with saturated instincts, he could strike first and fret over it later. Fortunately, Zake proved wise enough to shut up and Coal was already moving to place himself between Shade and the miserable human.
Which left Tye and Lera. “Come, lass,” Tye said softly into her ear as he stepped around to where she could see his face, his skin still tingling from when she’d leaned lightly into him. “River is waiting with the horses.”
“How many of you are there?” Lera asked, looking at Coal. At bloody Coal! Which was just humiliating.
Tye scowled.
“Four,” Coal said brusquely.
Tye held out his hand, reclaiming Lera’s attention. “Five, including you. If we could get moving before River grows cranky, it would be good.”
Lera didn’t move, but she didn’t step away either. Tye could smell her blood’s rapid racing. Of course it was racing. A pack of bloody immortals had just descended upon her life, got her evicted, and were now intending to whisk her away to a place where mortals were not welcome. If not for Zake, Shade, and Coal, Tye would have had an easier time calming the lass.
He stepped toward her slowly, making sure Lera could see each of his movements as he hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her easily against his chest.
The lass’s eyes widened.
“Your legs are short,” Tye declared, adjusting her to fit perfectly against his shoulder as he strode to where River was already mounted, Coal and Shade trailing behind them. “It’s faster this way than waiting for you to walk.”
Lera’s eyes narrowed at him. “I’ve been walking just fine for twenty years.”
“Good to know.” Tye gave her a cocky grin. “Look, that’s the one and only River you asked about. He’s the quint commander, and if you think you see a stick so far up his arse that it’s coming out his nose, then you are right.”
River’s gray eyes glared down at Tye. Sitting atop his stallion, the male wore a tailored dark-blue coat, black trousers, and mirror-shined black boots. His hair, dark brown and cropped close to his head, accentuated his strong back and shoulders as he held two more large stallions by the reins. Yes, River wore an air of command like a cloak—and as far as Tye was concerned, he was welcome to it.
“Hurry up.” River shifted his gaze to the road in front of them, as if he were already halfway down it in his mind, meeting and addressing obstacles that had yet to enter Tye’s imagination. “The mortal rides with Coal.”
“Like hell she does.” Tye’s shoulders tightened and he glared at River, even as he pulled Lera closer to him. The lass had just let Tye handle her, and he wasn’t about to let the moment end so soon. “We—”
“She rides with Coal,” River repeated, turning finally to show his canines. Their commander rarely pulled rank like this, so it carried an annoying amount of weight when he did. River could be an utter bastard sometimes.
“Yes, sir,” said Tye. The only sign that River heard his tone was a slight tick in his jaw.
Tye gave Coal a warning look before handing the lass up to him, and he swallowed a bit of ill-placed jealousy when the warrior tucked Lera neatly before him in the saddle, bracing his arms securely on either side of her waist as he took up the reins again. At least Coal would not let her fall. That was the important part.
Tye dropped back to fall in line beside River. “What the hell was that about?” he demanded, his voice too low for Lera to hear. “Or are you planning to issue orders for everything now? If so, I’d like your permission to take a shit in approximately two hours.”
River snorted. “Don’t pretend you failed to notice that our fifth is female.” He gave Tye a hard look. “You’ve not walked past a female without stopping for a chat in the three centuries I’ve known you.”
“You’ve not stopped to talk to one in just as long,” said Tye. “Someone needs to keep this quint—”
River’s hand shot out to grip Tye’s wrist. Hard. “Not. Her. She is a mortal, Tye, a female mortal. The magic’s call to her was a mistake. Our priority is to break the bond before it gets her killed. Understand?”
“I’m not going to rut with her, River.” Tye twisted his hand from River’s grip. “But you’ve no call to be an asshole to her either. Lera is one of us now. One of the quint. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it, that your soul doesn’t twist when she comes close.”
River’s nostrils flared. “It doesn’t.”
“Liar.”
“It isn’t real,” River forced out finally, his jaw tightening. The horse beneath him danced, sensing his agitation. River sighed and patted the horse’s neck until the animal calmed down. “The feeling . . . the need, it’s nothing but the work of magic. The mortal is nothing to me, nothing to us. Once the magic is severed—”
“Not real?” Tye said harshly. “These feelings are born of the same magic that shattered us after Kai’s loss. Or is that not real as well?” It was a low blow, even for Tye.
River’s fist flew at Tye’s jaw, but Tye didn’t bother blocking the assault. It pissed River off royally when someone failed to defend himself, and right now River deserved a bit of misery. Maybe it would force the male’s head from his ass, though that might be too optimistic an outlook.
River blamed himself for the death of Shade’s twin, for the pain that made Shade retreat into his wolf for a decade now. None of them could lift their heads after it happened, but Tye thought River and Shade had suffered the most. It was hard to tell with Coal, who buried everything so deep you’d need to slice him open just to find a feeling. The quint were brothers in all but blood, and they’d spilled enough of that together that it was likely mixed by now too.
Lifting his chin, Tye let the blood from his newly split lip dribble onto his chin. “Feeling better?”
“It is just the magic, Tye,” River said stubbornly, kicking his horse into a gallop. “Once the bond is severed, releasing her will not affect you . . . us . . . the same way. It will not be like losing Kai all over again.”
No, losing Lera would not be like losing Kai, Tye thought. It would be worse.
4. Coal
Coal was going to kill River, he decided, as Leralynn squirmed in his saddle, her flesh pressing against Coal’s and setting every nerve in his body aflame. The mortal had been in his charge for less than a minute and already her sweet hay-and-lilac scent was making his head spin. Tye might have savored being in Coal’s skin just now, but Coal was different from his quint brothers.
Tye enjoyed women like he enjoyed exquisite desserts, sampling freely without commitment, leaving all involved with a pleasant—if fleeting—aftertaste. River, who still mourned the female he’d loved before the quint call took him, kept his distance. The quint commander never lacked for invitations, but he rarely if ever took a female to his bed. Shade, who once shared females with his twin Kai, had retreated into his wolf a decade back, unwilling to touch a female without his twin alongside.
As for Coal, he was unfit for female company. Too many jagged edges, too deep a darkness. Three hundred years had passed since the quint call rescued him, but time didn’t erase the p
ast.
What Coal needed just now was some wind, a bit of fresh air to clear the girl’s scent from his nose. The mortal realm dampened the fae’s magic, but there were old-fashioned ways of calling the wind to your face. Coal patted his horse’s flank once and nudged the stallion into a canter.
Leralynn gasped, bouncing so hard in the saddle that the horse bucked in bewilderment. The girl’s fingernails dug into Coal’s forearms as if the whole bloody world was falling on their ears, and she slid further sideways than Coal thought possible given their arrangement. Coal cursed, hauling his nearly-unsaddled-for-no-reason passenger back into place and holding fast with his arms tucked even tighter against her waist as she attempted to topple off again.
The horse whinnied unhappily.
“You don’t know how to ride, mortal.” He’d meant it as a question, but it sounded more like a murder accusation.
“The mortal’s name is Lera,” she snapped over her shoulder, grabbing on to the horse’s neck and wiggling. “And we are not all immortal fae who own horses. Have you not met someone who couldn’t ride before?”
“Not in over three hundred years, no.” Coal turned his head and took a deep breath of fresh air. Leralynn’s—Lera’s—shifting backside happened to be very well aligned with his cock. With another curse—this one swallowed before he voiced it—Coal hurried to tighten his arms around the girl before her attempts to find purchase in the saddle awoke him any further.
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