Page 38 of Trial of Three
His intelligent gaze pierces mine with confusion. Then, with a twitch of his brow, the male goes slack in his captors’ grip. “I’m fine,” he growls, the words a perfect, tremulous hair short of being believable. “Worry for yourself, mortal lass.”
Smart male. I’m careful not to turn my head as I speak to Griorgi. “You said you wished him to live,” I whisper. “Whatever Jawrar’s magic is doing, it’s not normal. Look.”
Griorgi hesitates, glancing at River, whose blood now pools around his knees. However the male manages to increase his own bleeding, I thank the stars for it.
“Jawrar,” Griorgi hollers to the qoru. “End the punishment. Dead males learn no lessons.”
I catch Shade’s golden eyes for a split second then flick them back to Griorgi, praying to all the stars that the wolf gets the message.
I can’t see what the emperor does, but whatever has been lashing River stops. The male slumps deeper between the two fae holding him, his breaths fast and shallow, his eyes glazed. Now that the beating has ended, he looks to be on the very edge of consciousness. It’s so convincing that even my own throat tightens. Griorgi’s eyes widen slightly. The night guardsmen release River’s arms and he falls, his face hitting the ground.
In a flash of light, Shade turns to his fae form, holding up his empty hands toward Griorgi. “Will you let me stop the bleeding? He doesn’t have too much longer otherwise.”
Griorgi’s lip curls. Eyes on Shade, he grabs the back of my shirt and hauls me to my feet like a ragdoll. His thick arm wraps around my neck, pressing me against his body. His scent surrounds me, earthy like River’s, but with a sour, coppery tang that makes acid rise in my throat. “Move slowly, shifter,” he tells Shade. “I’d hate to have to snap this little one’s neck for no reason.”
Shade draws his hair back into a low, black bun, silently buying me time.
Drawing shallow breaths, I survey the room. Griorgi and Jawrar have ensured that neither we nor Kora’s quint can touch each other to summon greater power. Coal and Kora’s quint mates are all chained, taking up the last of the restraints. Tye is on his knees. The silver sheen of Shade’s magic spiders across River, whose muffled cries of pain draw the hungry gazes of the two qoru soldiers still left. The Night Guard quints are all close enough to each other to form a physical connection if needed. Damn.
Focusing inside me, I catalog what I have. The untamed tiger of Tye’s power still simmers in my veins, twining now with the active healing power flowing from Shade. Although I can’t touch the male, he’s positioned himself as close to me as possible, and I feel him engage all the power he has, shining with it like a small sun. River’s magic is the weakest of the three, only a tiny spark from when he made the ground shake earlier.
As for Coal... far away and chained... I feel nothing from him at all. My gaze cuts to him, finding the male fighting silently against his chains, his blue eyes glazed with fury and panic. Fury and panic that I should be feeling.
Stars, the male is protecting me even now, somehow blocking the feelings to keep me from spiraling in the same horrid darkness that I can see is consuming him. I try to catch his eyes but he refuses to look in my direction, as if doing so would be more than he could bear.
Well, he’ll have to get over that, won’t he? Because just now, my being different from all the fae is our only hope. I’m weak and small and mortal. And I’m a weaver, the most powerful of beings. I don’t need physical contact to connect my quint.
At least, that’s my working theory.
Begging the stars that River’s pain-filled breaths can keep our captors’ attention a bit longer, I force my mind onto a connection of a different sort. During the second trial, Coal was nowhere near me, yet the bridge he built between us worked even with the distance. A bridge that I hope I can build just as well.
Focusing on Coal, I take my mind back to our greatest merging, my thoughts filling with images. Coal’s bedchamber. His hands on me. My hands on him. Our connection in a fury of passion and violence, our blood and magic simmering with need.
Coal twitches, his head swiveling in confusion. Yes, he feels it. Feels me.
I press harder. Mercilessly. I fill my mind with the memory of me shoving him atop the bed, driving my nails along his skin until he grabs my wrists. The push and pull of our power, echoing and growing together. My thighs press together even here as the Coal in my mind’s eye bends me over the bed. The smell of his arousal—
Coal’s cock twitches inside his trousers and the qoru twist toward him.
“It missed us,” one says, walking up to Coal. Running a finger along his cheek.
I grip Coal’s fierce blue eyes, wishing I didn’t have to take him there just now. Not with the qoru who hurt him so close. But we fight with the weapons we have, not the ones we find convenient.
Me. Us. Stay with me, Coal. It is the only way.
Coal grips my eyes. Holds. And after a torturous heartbeat, I feel his answering pang, a bridge made of his own need extending toward me. Power fills my muscles, wakes my nerves, spikes my senses until the cellar seems flooded with light. The magic flows so much stronger than it did over a bridge of nightmares that for a moment I think I could fly.
I force myself back to reality, to the male still holding his arm across my neck. With the cord of Coal’s magic joining the others’, my body feels full to bursting with power, ready to explode and tear me into shards. I shake as the phantom limbs of magic flail wildly, painfully. My thoughts grow muddled, as if wrapped in cotton.
I have the males’ magic but I don’t have control of it. The more I struggle to gather the cords together, the more they slip from my grasp. Coal’s and Shade’s magical strands are the strongest, River’s a tiny shadow of what it should be, and Tye’s... That tiger makes up in power for what it lacks in submission.
“Finish,” Griorgi barks at Shade, oblivious to my silent struggle. “Now.”
“Sir—” Shade starts to protest.
“River is healed enough to survive the bond break now.” Griorgi snaps his fingers at the qoru. “I’m done with the shifter. Feed now, or I’ll have him put down.”
I slam my elbow into Griorgi’s ribs, my hands gripping the arm he has around my neck. With the strength of another world, I yank down on the joint, creating enough space to escape.
