by Alex Lidell
“You need to finish up in here.” River’s voice cuts between us, the air chilling with the open door. For a moment, I think the male has returned to argue some more, and the frustration gripping my sex mixes violently with the retort bubbling inside my chest. But then I hear it. An uncharacteristic tightness in River’s tone—a barely reined-in tension that makes my stomach clench. Shade straightens, giving my thigh an apologetic squeeze, and I slide to my feet.
“What’s happened?” Coming up behind me, Tye wraps his jacket around me, his heavy hand staying comfortingly on my shoulder as his eyes watch River’s every move.
River runs his hand through his short hair, his one tell surfacing. “A message from the Elders Council,” he says quietly. “The wards protecting the mortal realm from magic have cracked.”
3
Lera
With Shade’s healing magic still tingling along my skin, I let myself into what was once a formal sitting room for River’s father, Griorgi, but which now resembles a cross of den and library. Tall windows flood the chamber with brilliant sunlight, illuminating the colorful frescos of fae history covering each wall. Griorgi’s high-backed carved wooden chairs have been evicted in favor of more comfortable leather furniture, and a smell of sweet wine and bitter chocolate announces that both Tye and Autumn, River’s brilliant sister, have already made themselves comfortable.
“The wards protecting the mortal realm from magic have cracked.” River’s words echo in my mind, twisting and turning in search of some plausible explanation. A millennium ago, after the fae and humans enslaved in the dark realm of Mors broke free, the most powerful of the immortals combined their magics to separate the world into three realms. The dark realm of Mors, where the terrifying gray-skinned qoru rule. The immortal realm of Lunos for the fae. And the largest, the mortal realm, where all the human kingdoms find a home.
Last year, Griorgi attempted an alliance with the Mors emperor, opening a portal between Lunos and Mors. That escapade nearly destroyed Blaze, one of Lunos’s three courts. A penetration into the mortal realm, whose denizens have little to no knowledge of fae and no way to defend themselves, would be infinitely more deadly.
“Lera!” Autumn looks up from a sea of reference books, her many silver-blond braids swaying. Her fashion, as usual, puts my simple black fighting leathers to shame—a flowing dress of green and turquoise silk belted tight around her tiny waist. The sparkling silver at her ears, wrists, and neck make her look like every inch the princess she is, though it is the small leather cap sitting atop her left ear that the female fingers most often—a gift from her lover, Kora. “River said you are hurt.”
I throw River a dagger-filled look. “I thought River wanted to talk about broken wards, not keep worrying over three scratches.”
River lifts one brow, his gray eyes unreadable. “I can worry and talk simultaneously.”
“Forget I asked,” Autumn says quickly, tossing me a quick, conspiratorial smile before turning back to her books.
“Did Mystwood burn down?” I ask, setting a course for my favorite armchair. A shiver runs through me at the thought of the deep, mystical forest separating Lunos from the mortal realm. A forest I used to live at the edge of. It was created to prevent fae—and other, much darker immortal creatures—from walking into mortal lands, a fact my males were able to circumvent to come find me only by way of a highly rare and powerful passage key.
“Mystwood still stands,” says River, stepping aside as Shade’s wolf streaks across the room.
“Don’t you dare,” I yell after the beast, who is already leaping from the floor.
Too late. With a self-satisfied snort, Shade lands lightly on my chair and circles in place several times before curling into a large gray ball—one paw, tail, and tongue strategically extended to claim the entire seat.
One yellow eye blinks back at me piously.
I glower at him. “Get off, or I’ll sit on you.”
“That is not much of a disincentive, Lilac Girl,” says Tye, pulling me into his own lap as he settles on the couch. The male’s powerful thigh muscles shift to brace my backside, his white-silk-covered arms and scent of pine and citrus flowing like water around me. When I squirm to get free, a set of tiny, very dangerously placed sparks of fire magic nip me beneath my tight leather pants.
I gasp, and Tye clicks his tongue right next to my ear. “You really should stay put, lass. For safety’s sake and all that.”
“Enough,” River says from the middle of the room, his hands laced at the small of his back. With a jerk of his chin, the male nods to the low table where a map and stack of papers are already spread. Scout reports, by the look of them. A great many reports. “While we were out playing with sclices, the Elders Council delivered disturbing news. While Mystwood is intact, there is a weakness in the fabric separating the mortal realms of Light and Gloom. Creatures such as sclices have been spotted in the human world, and our fae scouts have even felt traces of their own magic when the mortal realm should have shackled their power completely. If left unaddressed this one point of weakness will spiderweb out like a crack in a glass.”
“I don’t understand how that’s possible if Mystwood stands,” I say.
“Mystwood forest is a wall,” says Autumn, rising and pushing River lightly to the side to stand before us. She holds one hand perpendicular to the other palm, her gray eyes blazing with the results of her research. “This wall stops magic and forbids traffic between Lunos and the human world, but it doesn’t extend infinitely. Go deep enough into the Gloom and you can get under the wall—but since you can’t exit the Gloom on the mortal side, this has never mattered.”
“Until now,” I finish for her.
“Yes,” Autumn says. “Since Mystwood is intact, yet traces of magic and Mors vermin have appeared in the human world, we believe there is a rip in the fabric. Fortunately, all the anomalies are centered around a single location. For now. As River stated, if left unchecked, the rip will spread and the impact will become catastrophic.”
“The territory with the anomalies belongs to Great Falls Academy, in the mortal realm.” Taking over for his sister, River steps toward the table and traces an area on the map, his callused finger circling what looks like a small town surrounded by a great stretch of forested wilderness. “Have you heard of it, Leralynn?”
I wince. Even during my isolated life tending horses at Zake’s estate, I’d heard of the place—its reputation precedes it. And then some. “Great Falls is the most prestigious school on the continent, catering to royals and nobles of all ten kingdoms in the Continental Alliance. The king of Ckridel set it up two hundred years ago when the alliance was first formed, following the theory that if you sequester the ten kingdoms’ future leaders into joint, high-quality misery for a few years, they’ll emerge not only well trained but with an aversion to slaughtering each other in the future. And it’s worked.”
“Not a bad notion.” River runs his hand through his hair. “But rather inconvenient at the moment, as that’s the only real place from which to launch a reconnaissance mission.”
“I presume the Elders Council wants us to go find out the size and cause of this crack and fix it before the sclices eat the Alliance’s future rulers for supper?” says Coal, though we all know the rodents would be the least of the humans’ problems if a full passage between the Light and Gloom opened up. Not everyone’s ancestors were fortunate enough to escape the qoru, and Coal still wakes with nightmares of his time there as a slave. Emperor Jawrar would jump at another chance to find a foothold beyond Mors’s borders, a thought that sends cold dread spiraling through me.
“Yes.” River sighs. “With Leralynn being from the mortal lands, and considering the strength of our quint, the Elders believe us uniquely suited for the mission. While my being Slait’s ruler on my own court’s territory prevents the Council from ordering us to go, they are asking us to.”
Placing the fate of thousands of lives on our—on River’s—unerrin
gly responsible shoulders.
The room falls silent, tension in every breath.
The Council doesn’t make a habit of requesting anything. That they are doing so now—instead of waiting until River stepped off Slait soil and thus into the Council’s jurisdiction—means the situation is dire indeed. There are few quints in Lunos who match the males’ experience and skill, and none but the Council itself who rival our joint power.
“They are right,” I say, watching River’s face tighten even as his hand twitches toward the map. He wants to go. They all do. The six months of staying put since River took the throne is driving the males stir-crazy—their frustration matched only by their bullheaded overprotectiveness. “How would we get into the Academy, though?” I ask, strategically turning the discussion away from whether we should be going. “Human legends peg fae for murderous monsters. Anyone in charge of an academy filled with the sons and daughters of the kingdoms’ most influential families would order the lot of us killed on sight.”
“That problem I can solve.” Autumn leans forward, the sparkle in her eyes saying she’s been mulling the puzzle over for some time. “You’ll get in wearing chameleon veils. Warded amulets that alter the beholder’s perception of who you are and why you are there.”
“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “I thought magic doesn’t work in the mortal realm.”
“True. With the exception of passive magic, such as our immortality, the mortal realm does shackle all outward power—Tye’s fire affinity, Shade’s healing, River’s earth will all be unusable,” says Autumn. “Shifting is all but impossible, and don’t ask me about Coal’s magic, because the stars only know what that does. But physical wards—those attached to objects like this amulet—tend to still function if they are powerful enough.”
Opening a wooden box that I hadn’t noticed in her lap, the female removes a set of five intricately carved wooden amulets. They’re nearly identical circular medallions with a delicate lacelike pattern spreading out in points from the center. “And these are some of the most complex and powerful magics in Lunos. They go beyond the basics and truly build a whole history for each of you, depending on where you are in the mortal world.”
“So if Tye were to put a veil on and step into a monastery—” River starts to say.
“—the monastery residents would see him as an acolyte or a fellow monk,” Autumn finishes for him. “Possibly as one who’s been there for some time. Moreover, the amulet would use facts from Tye’s actual history to build the new legend. So with Tye being a high-level flex athlete, his legend would likely include an explanation for athletic prowess.”
“Why would the veil make him appear a monk and not a chamber-pot boy?” asks Coal, earning a dirty look from Tye. “That would fit too.”
Autumn shrugs one smooth, bare shoulder. “The veil could very well make him a chamber-pot boy, especially if this monastery made a habit of hiring former athletes to clean rooms—the magic follows the path of least resistance. That is the first limitation of the veil amulets: you’ve no control over the legend they spin for you, and once the legend is created, it doesn’t alter. The amulet is designed to convince the world you belong there—it little cares whether you find the role convenient. For this reason, I’d advise never to wear a new veil into a prison, lest it convinces the guards you belong there as an inmate.”
“How will we know what legend the veil created for us?” I ask.
“The amulet will give you an awareness of it, a phantom desire to believe that it is true. This brings me to the veil’s second limitation—you must remove the amulet for at least an hour each day, lest you fall victim to the veil yourself.”
“Any other limitations?” River asks, picking up one of the amulets and twisting it suspiciously in his fingers.
“One more.” Autumn bites her lip, her voice apologetic. “The amulets’ magic builds a disguise so complete that it mutes all bonds. You will feel neither the quint nor your mating bond while you wear them.”
4
Lera
“I don’t think we should go,” River says, letting himself into my bedchamber a few hours after our briefing. Closing the door with a soft click, he strides to where I’m already packing, my clothes and weapons laid out neatly atop the four-poster bed. “I can’t leave the throne only six months after taking it.”
My jaw tightens at both the lie and the reason behind it. “I imagine Autumn can manage the day-to-day operation. Given the few centuries of experience she has at it.” Three centuries, to be exact—all the time River stayed away from Slait Court, returning only six months ago to finally depose the monster who sat on the throne.
River has the decency to blush.
I cross my arms, glaring up at him—not an easy feat with how close the large male is standing to me. With his straight back and broad shoulders, corded thighs and mirror-shined black boots spread slightly apart for balance, River eclipses the world without trying. But he isn’t going to eclipse me. “If you’ve come to tell me how much your male instincts will hurt if I—”
“But you died six months ago,” River snaps, the sudden break of his iron control vibrating the room. His shadowed gray eyes study me with such intensity that my chest tightens. He swallows, a slight tremor running through him. “I still feel the terror of that moment every time I close my eyes. So yes, Leralynn, I hate seeing you in danger. In pain. There is nothing in Lunos or the mortal lands that’s worth that for me. For any of us four. Someone else can go.”
“Stars. River.” The anger simmering my blood softens, and I reach up to trace my fingers along the angle of his square jaw. The tension inside him radiates through the skin, the muscles shifting beneath my fingers. The rare glimpse into my quint commander’s vulnerability makes my stomach clench. But it doesn’t change reality. “Then I think it’s fortunate for both realms that at least one of us can think clearly,” I say gently.
“Leralynn.” River’s voice drops, his hands gripping my hips.
I shake my head. “Someone else didn’t grow up in the mortal realm. Someone else isn’t a weaver. And someone else is certainly not part of the second most powerful quint in all of Lunos. We might be mated, but we are still a warrior quint. We were chosen by the magic to go out and do things. And this is the first of many.”
River closes his eyes, his chest expanding with his breaths. A heartbeat later, he pulls me fiercely against him. “Two points of clarification,” he whispers, his warm breath ruffling the hair on the top of my head. “First, once we discover the full extent of your new weaving magic, we might be the most powerful. And second… No matter how powerful you may one day become, I will always want to keep you safe. It is a hazard you’ll be forced to weather for centuries, Leralynn.”
“You are blaming the mating bond for making you insufferable?” I swallow, sounding hoarse as that very bond rouses to River’s woodsy scent and caresses my soul. “Seems rather convenient.”
Taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger, River raises my gaze toward him. His gray eyes study me, shifting into commanding intimacy. “Very convenient,” he echoes, his strong face filling my vision, his shoulders blocking the world from view. A purposeful motion, and one that makes my heart stutter in spite of itself.
River’s singular undiluted attention fills me, holding me in place as heat floods my sex. My hand twitches toward him, and he stills my motion with a look, my thighs clenching together in a mix of need and outrage.
A pleased, knowing glint fills River’s gray eyes, his nostrils flaring delicately. “Yes, I smell it,” he whispers into my ear, his gaze trailing down my abdomen until there is no question as to what precisely he refers to.
Heat touches my cheeks.
“You are beautiful when you blush,” River whispers. This close, I can feel the pounding of his heart, striking his ribs as hard as my own. His free hand slides down the curve of my hip and thigh, lifting the silk hem of my lavender nightgown. Cool air brushes my thighs a moment before
River’s warm hand trails up the sensitive skin, dipping unapologetically inside my undergarments toward the dampness I know is there.
Stars. Even after six months, the intensity of my new fae body still comes as a shock. It isn’t just the longer, shinier hair and smoother, near-glowing skin, it’s the avalanche of sensation. What used to merely arouse me now drives me insane with want.
I squirm on instinct, and River’s other hand drops from my face to cup my backside firmly, keeping me in place as he slides through my slickness. Extracting his glistening hand, he licks his fingers clean, growling with soft pleasure.
Stars. I open my mouth to—
River’s lips capture mine, swallowing whatever protest I was about to utter.
My body tenses, River’s claiming flooding me with sensation so intense, I can’t stay still. Yet I can’t move either. Not with the male’s hands and mouth on me, his feet shifting to trap mine between them. Giving me no escape. No chance to do anything but feel him. Feel us.
One heartbeat builds on the next until the slow throbbing vibrating through my core grows so insistent, I am gasping for air. Pulling back slightly, River scrapes the points of elongated canines along my bottom lip, making me writhe beneath his hands despite certain consequences.
River chuckles, his hand slipping right back beneath my skirt, up my damn inner thigh and—I gasp as a finger slides inside me, his thumb flicking over the sensitive apex. A zing spiders along my skin, my sex clenching around the glorious intrusion, the burst of sensation both too much and not nearly enough. When the callused tip of River’s finger traces my hood, I whimper outright, rising onto my toes for relief that won’t come.
River’s lips brush my ear. “I can ignore the mating bond’s instinct no more than you can ignore this, luv.” Another trace along my hood, coupled with tiny flicks on either side of my apex until I’m squirming despite his hold. “But please, try as hard as you like.”