Chapter 24
Sage
I finished my sandwich and pulled myself together.
I needed to focus on my most immediate problems: not being discovered, figuring out how to stop manifesting in the Garden and avoiding the dangers there, and surviving my impending death.
And the best way to do that — or at least deal with the Gray related problems — was carry on as usual and use the other guardsmen as a means to improve my fighting.
All but one of my opponents this afternoon were fae, and the human was Ambrose who was almost as good as a fae.
Sure, there wasn’t going to be any comradery between us, but the pride of the few fae I’d already sparred with, as well as Mikel and the rest of his followers, wouldn’t let them lose to a runt.
Which meant they never held back, and I could use the sessions to improve my reaction time, my dodging, and my ability to determine if I had an opportunity to score a hit.
With my thoughts focused on that, I left my room, took the side stairwell down to the bailey, staying as far away from the great hall as possible, and stepped through the pasture gate.
“Hey,” Talon said, startling me.
He leaned against the tall wall, arms crossed. A gentle breeze tugged at the strands of his long white-silver hair, and my attention swept up the locks to the delicate gold earrings in his pointed ear, his sculpted cheek and then his mesmerizing eyes, as if compelled by magic.
I looked at him and couldn’t look away.
Heat flooded my cheeks, and my breath caught, trembling between inhaling and exhaling, my body reacting before my mind could catch up.
Father, why did he have to be so beautiful? Why did I have to be stunned by him almost every time I saw him?
The breathlessness only lasted a moment and then my mind took over, but there was always that first initial reaction that always overwhelmed me.
I wrenched my gaze to the large boulders marking the edge of the running trail on the other side of the practice yard.
“My lor—” I bit the inside of my cheek.
Talon didn’t want to be called a lord, but even though it had been days since he’d abandoned me on the running trail, I still had no idea where I stood with him.
Before the incident with the running trail, I would have happily called him Talon like he wanted but now calling him by his name felt too familiar. “Captain.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched one of his silver eyebrows rise in question to my formality, but he didn’t correct me.
“You had an exciting morning,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m—” I didn’t want to think about it. I’d just managed to focus on what really mattered and push down the fear I had from seeing those monsters close up in daylight.
I didn’t want to talk to Talon about my feelings.
For all I knew, he’d report everything back to Lord Rider, which meant I needed to be careful what I said to him. “I’m fine.”
“I see.” The words came out flat, like he didn’t believe me, and he studied my face for a moment, then looked away.
The silence stretched between us, the mist sitting in the lowest levels of the practice yard undulating like miniature lakes.
I pursed my lips, feeling like I should say something but not knowing what. This was so awkward. Painfully awkward. It had been so much easier before I’d known the truth: that he’d obey Rider and abandon me if commanded.
And really! I didn’t understand why that bothered me so much. We hadn’t been friends. He was my superior in the Black Guard. And yet I’d thought I could trust him.
But that day had proven I couldn’t trust anyone, and I had to keep remembering that.
“I heard you fought them off with a barrel lid,” he said with a soft chuckle.
A hint of something soft and warm unfurled inside my chest at the sound before it shivered down into my stomach.
“Well, I…” My gaze dropped to my feet and I yanked it back up. “I had to do something.”
“That was definitely something.”
His lips curled into a soft smile and the warmth in my stomach grew, seeping deeper into my core with a soft, achy need, and I fought the urge to stare at him again. Was that his allure? Or was I just mesmerized by a handsome fae?
Rider stepped through the pasture gate, the bags of rocks slung over his shoulder.
This close, he towered over me, his broad muscular body making me feel — and most likely look — like the child everyone thought I was.
His silver eyes locked on me, sharp and assessing, and my chest tightened.
I still had no idea if he was angry at me for what had happened at the fae ring.
I took a step back, giving him more room to pass between me and Talon, even as another shiver of desire rushed down my spine.
With a grunt, his gaze shifted to Talon, who gave him a tight nod.
Male communication at its finest. Together, they strode across the practice grounds toward the running trail together, leaving me to wonder what they’d silently communicated — and I knew without a doubt they’d communicated something, and that something was about me.
Three of the fae novices hurried through the pasture gate after them, barely giving me a first look let alone a second one. At least they weren’t all staring and laughing over the fact that I’d had to use a barrel lid to defend myself.
I followed the three fae novices at a distance as they made their way across the practice grounds toward the running trail. A few minutes later, the fifth bell rang, and the rest of the novices hurried through the pasture gate, joining us at the boulders.
Lord Rider’s hard gaze swept over the group, his silver eyes sliding over me, making that whisper of desire flare a little stronger, then he jerked his chin.
We all knew what to do. We’d been doing it for one and a half rotations now.
The fastest novices took off, their boots pounding against the rocky path as they disappeared over the first hill.
I shoved down the desire starting to simmer in my core and hurried up the rise at the back of the group so no one could trip me.
Then I maintained my position ahead of the slowest inexperienced novices but the last of the experienced ones.
Mikel and his friends hadn’t ambushed me since this rotation started, but I didn’t want to press my luck by being faster than any of the other experienced novices.
Hopefully ensuring that I was always the one doing the extra lap with the bag of rocks at the end of training was enough for everyone to keep thinking I knew my place and they wouldn’t need to remind me again.
As expected, no one ambushed me, and just like the last three days of my new running plan, no one commented that I was faster than some of the inexperienced guardsmen once I’d crested the final hill and jogged back out onto the practice grounds.
The other experienced guardsmen were already picking their practice swords, and, as usual, I waited until they’d all selected.
Today, I picked the sword that best matched my own sword in length and weight.
Even after the terrifying fight with the shadow hounds, my body was almost feeling as well as it had before I’d first entered the Gray.
I was still a little achy, but it wasn’t close to what I’d felt after a few days of stable duty and certainly nowhere near to what I’d felt for the first few days after my grueling run on the trail at the end of my first rotation.
In reality, I should have picked a sword that was heavier than mine to help build up my strength and stamina in preparation for the fight of my life that I knew was coming, but given that I didn’t know what my duties would be in my third rotation and the fact that I’d barely recovered from my first, I didn’t want to press my luck.
Being too tired and sore to lift my sword when I needed it the most was suicide. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to just lie down and make it easy for whoever was going to attack me.
The three fae who I still had to spar with all exchanged glances, a quick, silent exchange passing among them, before the shortest of them — a man with short brown hair and red-orange eyes — sighed and stepped toward me.
We circled each other with our practice swords raised, and I watched his footwork, waiting for the telltale shift of weight before he struck.
Heat crawled up the back of my neck, making me frown. What was that?
It felt like someone was watching me — which I was sure people were but this felt… more.
The fae lunged and I dodged, swinging at him as I moved, but he parried my strike and countered with a lightning-fast jab. I barely twisted out of the way in time and was grateful the man didn’t press his attack while I was off balance.
The heat on my neck turned into an ache of awareness, and the need in my core that I thought I’d burned away with the exertion of my run around the trail, pulsed, sudden and strong.
The fae struck again and I sidestepped, his blade still brushing against my sleeve. Damn it. I was too slow. If our weapons had been sharp, that would have ripped my shirt, and that was way too close for comfort.
I sucked in a sharp breath and refocused on his stance, straining to catch that miniscule movement that happened just before he attacked. I needed to concentrate, damn it. I couldn’t afford to let anything distract me.
Except the ache in my core grew hotter and seeped deeper.
Was that Talon’s allure? Or was I imagining it?
The fae novice’s next strike came fast and, with no hope of dodging it, I barely got my sword up in time to block it. The impact jarred up my arm before I managed to redirect the blade to the side and step out of the way.
Shit. Concentrate. I couldn’t afford to be seriously hurt and with this guy’s hard strikes, a misstep could send me to the infirmary.
“Switch,” Rider barked.
I released a heavy breath of relief only to choke on air on the following inhale as Ambrose strode over to me.
His expression was tight and annoyed, and he raised his practice sword without any kind of acknowledgement, which wasn’t unexpected.
I’d just been certain he would have waited until the last possible moment before stepping up to spar with me.
The blue-black bruising around both his eyes had faded into an ugly yellow-green, but even just the glimpse of it still sent a satisfying thrill through me.
Was it unladylike? Absolutely. But the part of me that felt freer bound to the Black Tower than I’d ever felt as a woman didn’t care.
And even though the growth was small and slow, I could tell that part of me was growing stronger.
Would I ever be so foolish enough to think I could do what a man could?
I’d already proven I could stay calm in the face of a shadow hound attack when Garridan couldn’t, and much to the frustration of Aldis, Jokin, Sivis, Bramwell, and Hamelin, I’d proven I could score more points on them than they could on me.
I raised my sword and waited. Ambrose was fast, and I didn’t trust I was faster than him and could score a point before he countered. Best to wait and see what he did first.
The tingle of heat on my neck burned hotter. Someone was definitely watching me.
I fought to focus on the angle of Ambrose’s blade, on the tension in his shoulders before he struck, but the ache in my core flared into a throbbing, desperate need.
Ambrose lunged, and I dodged, countering with a strike that he easily blocked.
We reset and circled again, but my pulse was jumping and the heat was growing stronger and stronger.
I gritted my teeth. What the hell was wrong with me? I had to focus.
Concentrate on the fight, on reading his tells, on anything except the growing ache.
But the achy need and the sensation of being watched was driving me crazy.
Unable to help myself, I glanced over my shoulder. My gaze instantly locked with Talon’s and desire roared through me, wild and overwhelming.
Oh, shit. Talon. That was what was wrong with me.
From this distance he looked perfectly normal with no hint of shadowy smoke billowing around him, but the desire threatening to overwhelm me had to be the allure from the shadow trapped inside him.
Ambrose’s practice sword slammed against my side. Pain flared across my ribs, and I stumbled, somehow managing to stagger backwards, away from my opponent, and not toward him.
His eyes flashed wide with surprise, and he jerked back a step, before his expression quickly returned to annoyed indifference.
I sucked in a breath and raised my sword again, forcing my feet back into position and my body back into the rhythm of the fight.
This was a nightmare. I’d been fine since the beginning of the rotation — since Zinnia had put my mating marks to sleep. Why was Talon’s allure affecting me now? Why couldn’t he control it?