Page 19 of Trial of Three
My spine straightens, the motion making me wince. “I’m not a helpless female.”
“My point exactly,” Autumn says primly. “But it will take these oafs a few more minutes to work that out. If you rush them, they’ll sprain their brains. An organ that some of them”—she looks pointedly at Coal and Shade—“have not used in some time.”
Coal shuts his eyes, his pale skin turning a shade of red that would be amusing if he weren’t also bleeding. “Our coupling opened my magic for Lera’s echo.” He rubs his face. “She was strong. Stronger than... She did not appear injured at the time we—”
“Jumped all over each other like a pair of bizzerked rabbits?” Tye supplies helpfully.
I grab the closest thing to me—which happens to be Coal’s boot, right across the room’s threshold—and chuck it at Tye’s chest. An exercise that makes me grunt in more pain than he does.
Coal turns away from Tye, his eyes fully on Autumn. “Lera appeared sore when we were done, but not injured—though perhaps my own senses were muddled by then. By morning, whatever magic she’d been echoing faded, and with it, the true extent of her injuries surfaced. Her body now shows the effects of our activity as a mortal’s would.”
Before the last words are out of Coal’s mouth, Tye kneels beside me and presses his lips against mine, his delicious pine-and-citrus scent surrounding me. I’m startled enough to kiss him back before coming to my senses.
“What the hell are you doing?” River demands.
“If coupling with Coal made Lilac Girl a temporary fae, it seems prudent to check whether kissing me might do the same,” Tye says over his shoulder, holding my face in both hands as he speaks.
“I don’t think it works that way,” I tell the male. “We have kissed before, you know.”
“Stop interfering with the scientific method,” Tye declares, his attention now fully on my face. Before I can protest, he clamps his mouth over mine, sliding his hands down to pin my arms against my sides. His tongue fills my mouth, decisive and deft as it explores. As it brushes everything, marking it as its own.
Behind me, River clears his throat, and Tye pulls away with a sigh, his emerald eyes flashing with feline self-content.
“Did it work?” River asks dryly. “Is Leralynn healed?”
“She certainly is,” Tye says. “Can you imagine waking up with the memory of Coal’s kiss and no one to improve upon it?”
“No,” says River. “I neither can nor wish to.” He turns to Autumn. “I presume you are about to say that Leralynn needs Coal’s magic, specifically, to heal?”
The female nods, her silver-blond braids swinging. “Like the rest of you, when Coal and Lera connect, she is able to echo his power. Unlike the rest of you, Coal’s magic is turned inward—making him stronger, faster, a quicker healer than other fae—and thus can affect Lera’s body similarly. Make her stronger, help her heal faster. That said—” Autumn pauses, her gray eyes getting that glazed, excited look that I’ve learned heralds a new theory. “That said, while the link between Coal and Lera is unique, I would think that coupling with any of you should strengthen Lera’s ability to control your individual magic stream. Strengthening your physical bond in turn strengthens your magical bond.”
I feel my eyes widen.
Autumn grins, her voice quickening. “The connection between body and magic is well known—it’s the reason you use physical gestures to help guide your magic and why you train for physical endurance to enhance your magical reserves. In that light, it makes simple sense that Lera could control Shade’s healing magic more effectively than Tye’s fire or River’s earth affinity. She and Shade had already coupled by that point.”
Silence.
Utter, face-burning silence.
“If the next words out of your mouth, Autumn, include ‘schedule,’ ‘evaluation,’ or ‘comparable variable,’” River says finally, “I will smother you with a pillow in your sleep. Understand?”
Autumn’s pointed ears turn a pretty shade of pink.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I push Autumn’s words to arm’s length, their implications too overwhelming to deal with just now. One problem at a time. For the moment, the active-problem slot is firmly reserved for a hurt shoulder and cracked ribs.
“Can all of you leave, please?” I say, using the wall to climb to my feet and ignoring the five immediate sounds of protest. Six, if I count my own body’s reaction. “Correction, can all of you but Coal please leave?”
No one does.
Fine.
Squinting into the light coming through Coal’s open window, I knot the sheet around me in a makeshift dress and start my way across the room. Shade steps toward me but I shake my head, the movement nearly splitting my skull. For a moment, the tanned male looks like he’ll protest, but Tye puts a hand on his shoulder, keeping the shifter at bay.
Coal kneels still. His gaze is on the floor when I stop beside him, the blood from his split lip dripping onto the stone. He looks more wounded than he did after the whipping, every line of muscle in his body rigid. Stiff with self-reproach. A condemnation heavier than any words, any swing of Shade’s fist.
The silence of the room grows heavier with each heartbeat.
Taking a fortifying breath, I lower to my knees, unable to hold back a whimper as the movement jostles cracked ribs. Behind me, I hear Shade’s sharp intake of breath. Coal, on the other hand, remains still as stone.
