Scent of a Wolf: Great Falls Academy, Episode 3

by Alex Lidell

  Copyright © 2019 by Alex Lidell

  Danger Bearing Press

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Credits:

  Edited by Mollie Traver and Linda Ingmanson

  Cover Design by Deranged Doctor Design

  Scent of a Wolf

  Great Falls Academy, Book 3

  Alex Lidell

  Danger Bearing Press

  Contents

  Also by Alex Lidell

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Also by Alex Lidell

  About the Author

  Also by Alex Lidell

  New Adult Fantasy Romance

  POWER OF FIVE (Reverse Harem Fantasy)

  POWER OF FIVE

  MISTAKE OF MAGIC

  TRIAL OF THREE

  LERA OF LUNOS

  GREAT FALLS ACADEMY (Power of Five world)

  RULES OF STONE

  CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

  SCENT OF A WOLF

  CLOCK STRIKES MIDNIGHT

  Young Adult Fantasy Novels

  TIDES

  FIRST COMMAND (Prequel Novella)

  AIR AND ASH

  WAR AND WIND

  SEA AND SAND

  SCOUT

  TRACING SHADOWS

  UNRAVELING DARKNESS

  TILDOR

  THE CADET OF TILDOR

  SIGN UP FOR NEW RELEASE NOTIFICATIONS at https://links.alexlidell.com/News

  1

  1. Shade

  Shade woke to the smell of grapevines twining around the gazebo and small stones digging into his ribs. Overhead, the sun was breaking through a blooming orange horizon, as if the previous day’s storm had never happened. Shade drew a shuddering breath and rose to his knees, rubbing his face. The Academy’s reflection garden spread away from him in both directions, with beds of dew-covered hyacinths and giant cone flowers, their tall stems and light green leaves holding up bright yellow flowering heads.

  Yes, Shade was outside. But how the hell had he gotten here? From the slight ache along his ribs and memories of a dream where he’d chased a deer, he’d fallen asleep here. Fortunately, his presence would unlikely raise suspicion—the garden was large and filled with thick concealing greenery, lacy fern beds, and stone-walled nooks designed to give refuge to students seeking solitude amidst the Academy’s bustling life. He wasn’t the first or last of the garden’s overnight visitors. But all the others knew how they’d gotten here.

  Shade didn’t. He’d lost time. Again.

  Shade forced his mind to sort through the last memories he had. He remembered the infirmary last night, when Coal brought Leralynn of Osprey in to be seen after a punishing run that had plainly morphed into more than discipline. That was when his body first started playing tricks on him. The girl’s lilac scent and deep brown eyes—not to mention her supple, creamy skin under his hands—had driven him insane, made it an effort of will to keep himself in check. To remember his duty. To remember that she was a student, for stars’ sake. To ask the right questions, make the right decision, use the right damn salves.

  Leralynn’s pull on him made as little sense as waking here did. Perhaps it was the state she was in, just on this side of misery, that brought out a healer’s natural instincts to protect. Or the scent of coupling that had clung to her and Coal both—a scent that would make any man hard. That had to be it. Plus, Leralynn reminded him of another auburn-haired, chocolate-eyed woman who’d once owned his soul.

  Shade shook himself before the memory could pull him in deeper. The problem of Leralynn of Osprey was the simplest to solve—keep the hell away from her. Incidentally, that was the same advice he’d given Coal last night—and that man usually had the better restraint of the two of them. Fortunately, the girl was planning to leave the Academy.

  Infirmary. Shade forced his mind back to task as he walked to the nearest garden exit—a stone archway nearly hidden in the hedgerow, covered densely in rustling green ivy. He’d been in the infirmary, tending first to Lera, then Tye, when all hell broke loose over an odd fallen disk that Shade knew instinctively was important. The cold, restrained fury in River’s face had been enough to send a chill down Shade’s spine, despite having known the man for years. Shade had seen kings with less internal power than what always simmered beneath River’s cultured manners and speech. The man could wield more authority with a look than others did with a whip or sword. Even Shade, who considered his commander a friend, knew there was a line not to be crossed. Everyone did.

  Except one Leralynn of Osprey.

  Stars, the girl had no self-preservation instinct. Shade didn’t know whether he was more relieved to have missed River’s tearing her into shreds or more afraid of how the duel might end. He blinked. After that, he recalled emotions and smells more than events. Yes, he’d been afraid for Lera, had wanted to see whether she was all right. But he’d wasn’t some idiot to stand and watch the door to the student dormitory—he’d gone back to his own quarters.

  Hadn’t he?

  How, then, had he gotten here, to the reflection garden? Had he been drinking?

  Reaching behind him, Shade pulled his hair into three parts and braided it quickly, creating the appearance of an officer up and ready early in the morning instead of one who’d passed out beneath the stars. Whatever was happening with him, Shade needed to get to the bottom of it quickly. And quietly.

  “Shade?”

  Spinning toward the sound of River’s voice, Shade found the impeccably dressed commander striding out from the keep as if unaware of the hour. The tallest man Shade knew, River always kept his dark brown hair neatly cropped, his black boots mirror shined, and his storm-gray eyes unreadable. Eyes that seemed to have the eerie ability to focus on every place and person in the Academy at once. A pair of guards hurrying to their duties snapped to attention at the sight, their faces pale though River did nothing but nod courteously to them. At the moment, Shade knew how they felt.

  Straightening his rumpled, damp gray sweater, Shade joined River at the edge of the courtyard, where he stood rock still, eyes trained on a point in the distance. “Waiting for something?” Shade asked.

  “Someone. I issued some orders last night I would like to ensure are followed. Ah—there she is.”

  Following River’s gaze, Shade saw the one person he was really hoping to avoid. Leralynn. Trudging out of the cadets’ barracks, her smooth skin and long auburn braid glowing in the rising sun. Despite the breathtaking curves that made even a gray uniform look delicious, Lera’s curled shoulders and stiff shivers against the chill spoke to undeniably sore muscles. Shade straightened his back. “I thought she was leaving us.”

  “She changed her mind.” River’s voice was tight. Disapproving—almost beyond what the situation seemed to call for, though when it came to Leralynn, Shade wasn’t one to judge well.

  “I see.” Shade’s stomach clenched. “And what do you have her doing?”

  “Mucking stables for three hours a day for a month.” The utter lack of
emotion in River’s words cut Shade’s hearing. For whatever reason, the punishment made River uncomfortable enough to put effort into burying his thoughts. For all his stoic masks, River saw entirely too much, which boded poorly for Shade’s own predicament.

  Shade cleared his throat, finally working through what River had said. “You are taking three hours a day from her for a month?” With the Academy’s workload, that would leave a first-year cadet with no time to sleep. “Isn’t that a bit severe? A simple thrashing would have done.”

  River’s face did tighten then. “I couldn’t,” he said quietly. “And I need her too exhausted to get into trouble for a while.”

  Shade rocked back on his heels, saying nothing—he didn’t trust himself to keep from uttering something that might expose his own turmoil to River’s too perceptive eyes. As for River… In the whole time Shade had known the commander, River had never hesitated to punish a student or soldier, male or female. River was never cruel, but he was efficient. And fair. And consistent. Until now.

  What was it about this beautiful cadet? First Tye. Then Coal. Shade himself. Now River. Leralynn of Osprey was touching souls. Which made her as tantalizing as it did dangerous. A fact that should have made Shade turn away, and made him hard instead.

  2

  2. Lera

  “Touch your ear,” I tell Coal, my heart quickening. I can’t help it. I need to show Coal his true nature. Need to try.

  Coal glances at me, his metallic scent mixing with the lingering tangs of sex and sweat. Shirtless, the male is pulling his blond hair back into a bun, the muscles coiling beneath taut skin. “My own ear?” he asks.

  “Yes. Your own ear. Touch it.”

  I feel as if I’m moving through molasses, focusing on Coal’s still, calm face. This is a nightmare, some part of my mind shouts. Just a nightmare. But a nightmare on repeat, four times, five times in one night, each iteration forcing me closer and closer, making me relive each moment.

  Coal reaches for the bottom of his ear. I capture his hand, redirecting it toward the pointed tip.

  No! Don’t! I scream at myself, almost watching from above. But I don’t listen. The Lera lifting Coal’s hand doesn’t know what’s coming. Wake up, wake up, wake up, I beg, knowing it’s no use.

  Coal’s strong hand is trusting beneath my touch as he makes contact with the proof of his fae heritage—and screams in agony. The pain in his voice tightens my chest, making bile rise up my throat.

  I pull away.

  Coal rocks on his knees, his head between his hands, his body shaking as I’ve never seen. His glazed blue eyes see nothing.

  “Coal!” I take the male’s bare shoulders, now blazing hot as if with fever. “Coal!”

  Sitting up in bed, I inhale lungfuls of cold air. Coal is all right, I tell myself, as I have all night—but I’m an awful liar, even to myself. Coal doesn’t scream in pain from anything short of torture in the dark realms. And yesterday, from me. Stars. The male might recall nothing of the episode, but I remember enough for us both.

  Marking the rising sun, I slip to the floor and pull on my gray uniform. Stable duty. Right. Trudging across the Academy courtyard toward the stable, I listen to my footsteps echoing off the stone walls in the cool dawn air. My veil amulet swings dully against my chest, feeling extra heavy this morning. I haven’t been able to take it off while sleeping lest Arisha wake up and catch sight of me in the night, and my mind is longing for a rest from the magic-spun half-truths.

  In fact, everything feels heavy this morning. The irony isn’t lost on me. Once, mucking stables in Zake’s estate was my life—right up until Coal, River, Shade, and Tye rode into my world and turned it on its head. And now I am right back at it. At River’s orders no less. The irony would be morbidly funny if memories of Zake didn’t still make me break out in a sweat. If the thought of getting on the wrong side of River again didn’t frighten me so much.

  As if summoned by thought, I note the male watching me from the edge of the courtyard. Even from this distance, River’s broad shoulders, commanding height, and square jaw take my breath. With hands clasped behind his ramrod-straight back and his hooded gray eyes trained unblinkingly on me, River wears strength and responsibility with the same casualness that others wear coats. Beside River, Shade’s predatory perfection coils beneath a sharp-boned face framed by black hair and piercing golden eyes—though my sharp fae vision notes deep shadows under those beautiful eyes. Shadows that I could smooth away in another life, but not here. The sight of them together sends heat pooling between my thighs even as I quicken my pace.

  This is what normal people must feel in the males’ company. When the magic bonded us, everything happened so quickly that I never truly felt the full weight of their power before seeing past it—before becoming friends and lover. Mates. To me, River has always been River. But he isn’t. He is the king of one of only three Lunos courts, a commander of legendary warriors whose centuries of battle-honed nerves and minds are matched only by their physical allure.

  Now that I see them from beyond the walls of intimacy, the distance between us feels insurmountable.

  My foot catches a loose cobblestone, and I wince as I hope to keep my balance. After spending half a day with Coal running me into the ground and the rest shivering like a sapling—with one notable exception that most certainly did not give any of my muscles a rest—I hurt. My arms hurt. My legs hurt. My shoulders hurt. I think my eyelashes hurt too, but keeping my eyes open is so great a chore that I am not quite certain.

  Slipping into one of the paths through the thick shrubbery wall separating the Academy’s east and west sides, I hear a familiar voice calling my name and frown. Gavriel. What could the librarian want with me at this hour?

  Cutting over toward the sound, I find Gavriel in one of the small round alcoves. Seeing me, the man rises from the crescent stone bench, his leg unusually stiff in the morning chill. Despite the obvious soreness, Gavriel’s brown eyes lively are too lively for this hour of the morning, his tattered robe fluttering behind him in the cutting breeze.

  “I heard I might find you here, and here you are,” he says, holding out his hands in greeting. “Though I must say, this stable-mucking business is highly counterproductive to our needs. River certainly didn’t force such a time waster on his star athlete. Perhaps I can speak to him about an alternative—”

  “I’m fine with stable duty, Gavriel,” I say quickly. So long as I’m not late for it. “And good morning to you as well. Is there something you needed?”

  “To discuss tonight’s mission with you, of course.” Gavriel beams at me, mouth opened in a wide grin to reveal slightly crooked front teeth—as if offering rare wine instead of a way to get me killed.

  I stare at him. “Because the last one ended so well for me?”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Gavriel pats my shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it soon enough, I’m sure. Now then, tonight—”

  I put out a halting hand, stopping Gavriel midsentence. Heat seeps into my blood and I draw a breath full of earth and sap and pine. Yes, Gavriel and I have plainly been talking past each other these past days, but pushing away the one person who knows the truth about me would be unwise. Still, after what happened yesterday I need to steer us to a different course—preferably without making me late for stable duty. Closing my eyes for a moment, I gather the clearest words I can find. “We need River, not me, leading the charge to close the magic’s leak. If you wish to help, then work out how to get the males’ memories back. I tried to force it yesterday, to make Coal feel the top of his own ear and… it didn’t end well.”

  Instead of the expected curiosity, Gavriel’s eyes widen for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t imagine it would.” The man’s brows pull together as if chastising a belligerent child. “Good stars, Leralynn. What made you think it wise to meddle in magic you don’t understand?”

  “Because I needed to show Coal what he is.” My chin rises. “I thought evidence of his origins w
ould push Coal to override the amulet’s illusion.”

  “And instead the veil attacked him,” Gavriel snaps.

  Bile rises up my throat as I shove down the phantom echo of Coal’s agony-filled bellow. Attacked. Yes. That is what happened. When challenged, the amulet flooded Coal with pain until all traces of the attempt were ripped from his mind. I rub my face. How does one go about apologizing to someone who remembers nothing of the incident?

  Gavriel sighs, his voice softening. “It sounds as though the veil’s magic is fighting for its own survival. You are fortunate that—this time—your experiment ended with only a bit of pain.” Gavriel straightens his sweater which does little for his overall appearance. “I must point out that I’ve been telling you to forget the males all along. I do hope you’ve learned your lesson, Leralynn, and are ready to listen to the parameters of today’s mission.”

  My eyes narrow, my heart thudding against my ribs. “That’s it? Your solution to the veil’s attack on Coal is to ignore it?”

  “Coal isn’t the Protector,” Gavriel says with exaggerated patience. “You are. Now, I expect clear skies tonight, which you will certainly wish to take advantage of to…”

  I stop listening, the simmering heat filling my veins giving way to a roar. This is war, the amulet’s attack the first shot fired. And I… I can’t fight it on my own—clearly—not without making things worse by several magnitudes. Gavriel won’t help either. Which leaves one single course of action: wait for reinforcement from Lunos, hold the line until help comes. Eventually, with no contact or results, someone in the Elders Council will decide to send a scout to check on us. And if not the Council, Autumn surely will.