Page 1 of Rules of Stone
1
Lera
“Watch your left side, mortal.” Coal calls to me from where he fights three sclices at once, the fae warrior’s sword and dagger a blur of precision. His voice is steady and low, as if we are in a practice corral facing nothing more deadly than sacks of sand.
“I’m. Not. Mortal.” Unlike Coal’s words, mine come between gasping breaths. My lungs burn, my heart pounding against my ribs as I spin, my sword following the arc of my body to bite into a sclice’s thick hide.
The hoglike beast swipes at me with its clawed front limbs, which are long enough to let it run on all fours. It’s not running now, though. Standing upright on its back-hinged hind legs, the sclice towers over me, its vertical red eyes, snouted nose, and fang-filled protruding lower jaw all roaring their displeasure.
“Keep leaving your weak side open, and we’ll see how not mortal you are,” Coal calls, felling the beast before him. In black fighting leathers, his blond hair pulled back with a leather thong, the warrior moves with a preternatural grace that comes of centuries of combat—and still takes my breath. A flick of his powerful forearm, and a second hog beast falls just as it tries to sink its teeth into Coal’s shoulder.
Jumping away from the sclice’s assault, I force myself to draw a lungful of air. My new immortal body might make me stronger and swifter than I was in my human form, but I’ve a ways to go before I can match skills with my mates.
I’m not mortal.The words still zing through me, settling uncomfortably into my bones. Only eight months ago, I was working in Master Zake’s stable in the mortal lands, with nothing but the bite of his belt and the snap of his temper a reliable promise of the future. When the four fae warriors—Coal, River, Shade, and Tye—appeared from the immortal realm, drawn to me by an ancient magic, none believed our connection was anything but an error. And yet, here I am. Not just the fifth warrior of the quint, but fae myself, mated to all four males by a magic as old as the immortal race.
Now that we’re a sanctioned quint, we’re charged with protecting Lunos from the dark creatures of Mors—which, if it were up to Coal, would mean roving the lands between the three Lunos courts, Flury, Blaze, and Slait, and battling sclices and piranhas to his heart’s content. Unfortunately for Coal, because our commander is also now the king of Slait Court, we never travel far from Slait’s capital. The males put on a good front, but after centuries on the front lines, responding to routine reports and checking wards make my males feel like leashed dogs.
Twenty paces away, where the thick fern forest gives way to a clearing, said commander, River, stands with his back straight and eyes narrowed in concentration as his magic opens a great gash in the frost-chilled earth. A future grave for the sclice pack that Tye and Shade herd into the crack while Coal and I deal with the strays. Sclices might have the brains and instincts of rodents, but with their man-sized bodies and insatiable hunger, large packs like this can destroy a village in a night’s hunt.
I mark Shade, in his wolf form, snapping at the beasts’ hind legs while red-haired Tye plays his fire magic to set off sparks beside their hooves. Swift. Efficient… Competitive.Stars.The two have made a game of it, and I’d wager my horse they are keeping score.
The sclice before me snarls its fury, thick yellow drool dripping from its pulled-back lips. The stench coming off the creature is strong enough to make me gag, even here in the Gloom—the normal world’s eerie underlining, where Mors beasts tend to congregate—which mutes the colors and smells and sounds. Gripping my sword tighter, I cover my mouth and nose with my elbow as I circle for a better angle.
The hog beast crouches on its hind legs. Growls. Lunges at me faster than I thought possible, sharp front claws pushing off the ground for leverage before raking my left side. Streaks of fire light along my ribs, and I choke back a gasp of pain. My immortal body might heal faster than a human’s, but it does nothing to mute the sensations. Shade and Tye are wrangling more than a dozen beasts, and Coal is on to killing his fifth. This one bloody sclice is mine.
Letting the beast’s momentum carry it by me, I angle my blade to strike the back of its neck. My ribs burn, my pulse racing in fear-tinged fury as I strike.
The sclice twists around, knocking me off my feet. Pouncing on me as I fall, it lands with its clawed front limbs on either side of my head, its oversized lower jaw hanging open, dripping yellow drool onto my neck.
Arching my back, I kick the sclice off, rolling over my shoulder to reclaim my footing. I feel a tiny pulse of satisfaction when none of the males intervenes to rescue me—they’re making progress. Then I feel Coal’s attention on me, as hot and firm as his hands on my sword arm—all right, slow progress.
Reaching inside myself, I feel for the males’ phantom limbs of magic that I’m still getting accustomed to living there. Not one but four cords of power wake to my call, the fledgling magics still developing but eager for freedom. Weaving the four cords into a rough braid, I lash out with a messy weave. So far as we know, I’m the only weaver in all of Lunos—but it will take me centuries to grow into the full breadth of my power.
The braid of magic explodes like the crack of a giant whip, echoing through the forest. Bits of earth and fern and sclice fly into the air as if caught in some giant shard-filled whirlwind.
“What in the star’s name is going on?” River demands, his steady gray eyes taking in the scene while I drop to my knees to catch my breath. “Are you all right, Leralynn?”
I tamp the magic down quickly and back away from the mess. “Yes.”
“That’s enough for today. Connect,” River orders, his crisp words forcing me to my feet. A flash of light has Shade returning to his fae form, black hair swinging over high cheekbones, tan skin, and gleaming yellow eyes. Coal finishes his opponent with an efficient swipe before jogging to where the others are gripping hands.
“Come, lass.” Tye extends his hand toward me with a roguish smile and a sparkle in his green eyes, drawing me in to finish the quint’s connection. “Playtime’s over.”
The moment the five of us all touch, the quint’s ancient magic fills my body, its thundering power edging out all pain and fatigue. River’s competent hands on the magic’s reins make short work of pushing the remaining two sclices into the cracked earth before sweeping Coal’s kills and my mess into the same abyss and sealing it cleanly.
It’s over in seconds, but that rush of joint magic, my heart beating in perfect harmony with four others, brushes my soul with the ecstasy of belonging.Mine.No matter their war games, their risk-taking, their maddening overprotectiveness, these males are mine.
2
Lera
Ifeel no such ecstasy an hour later. Sitting shirtless on Shade’s worktable in the Slait Palace, I fidget under four fury-filled glares.
“These cuts are deep, cub,” Shade says, his usually velvet voice stern as his fingertips probe my ribs gently. The wolf shifter’s magic has a healing affinity, just as Tye’s power favors fire and River’s speaks with the earth. Coal’s odd magic is unique, turned inward on himself after years of slavery, giving him even greater strength, speed, and ability to heal than other fae. Shade crouches for a closer look, his scent of earth fresh from rain filling my nose. Even off the battlefield, Shade moves with lupine grace, his fitted gray pants and bare torso revealing a field of tan, smoothly carved muscles. The beautiful angles of his face are tight with concern. “Had the claws gone a bit farther, you’d have a punctured lung.”
“I told you to watch your left side, mortal.” Coal’s blue eyes flash with ice, his tight muscles vibrating with leashed violence. “I didn’t know you needed a compass to find ‘left.’”
“You needn’t have done all that just to win my attention, Lilac Girl.” Tye’s crossed arms give away the lie behind his voice’s lightness. When the male shifts his weight, I see his fists rolled tight enough to bleach the knuckles.
