47
No Pain, No Fae
Melody
“What irked you today?” Blair drawls, strolling up to me while I hit the dummy stuffed with straw again and again and again with a wooden sword. I skipped lunch and came straight to the training area. “You know that technique is for shit, right?” she says when I don’t answer.
I still ignore her and swing the blade again, trying to chop that damn dummy into pieces.
“Wanna tell me why the whole campus is calling you silvery lightning girl ?” she pushes.
I finally stop, my breath coming ragged, muscles burning. I’ve gained a little more weight and muscle mass, but there’s still a long way to go before I can call myself anything close to trained.
“Since you’re usually so witty, feel free to make a very educated guess, Blair,” I snap—meaner than I want to be.
“Ouch,” she whines, pouting her full lips, painted in a shocking, dark color. “I didn’t know you could wield it,” she says with a kind of surprise and fascination. “Caryan’s lightning. I mean, it’s celestial magic—and I’ve never heard of anyone other than an angel wielding it.”
“Yeah, neither did I,” I mutter, turning to her.
She cocks her head, quickly barking some instructions to the rest of my class who’ve just arrived, before turning back to me. She’s wearing a short-as-sin crop-top-cross-sports-bra that shows off ridged abs and her whole muscled, toned frame, vying with her enormous boobs.
“Do you know your nipples are showing through?” I ask quietly.
She flashes me a silvery grin. “Hells, yeah.”
Right—so much for Blair and modesty.
“But look, I’ve actually got a surprise that might improve your mood,” she says.
My gaze wanders, and my brows shoot up when I spot Meanara and Faye—with Aris seated at her feet. Faye offers me the shyest of waves.
Blair cocks an eyebrow. “That the girl you’ve been asking me to train? The one with the dragon earrings?”
“That’s her,” I breathe, walking over and hugging Faye tight.
She eases a little at my touch, but her aura is still a nervous storm.
“How?” I shoot to Aris without looking at him.
“Hm, I think Blair spoke to Meanara, and Meanara kind of lured her out after whatever you said to her.”
“I agreed to watch,” Faye says shyly.
“No, no watching in my classes,” Blair cuts in sharply, wriggling a long claw in a chiding way. “Because we’re gonna get all those boys taking off their shirts, and that look isn’t for free. No pain, no gain.”
“I love this woman,” Cassius mutters under his breath, smirking as he starts tugging his shirt off a little too eagerly.
Ryder comments something similar.
Blair’s head snaps to them impossibly fast. “It’s Professor , Cassius! And now give me three hundred one-handed push-ups for impudence,” she chimes lightly, then glances back at Faye.
Faye looks as pale as one can probably get and rigorously avoids looking at Cassius and Ryder undressing.
“Huh. So you’re the girl from the archives who loves dragons,” Blair says, her eyes snagging on Faye’s earrings.
Faye’s pale complexion turns a rich purple within seconds. Blair pretends not to notice.
“You look about as scrawny as Melody,” she says, assessing Faye’s thick robe.
I want to punch Blair, but she grabs my arm before I can. Of course, she does.
“Ouch!” I whine.
“We’re gonna work on your speed,” she remarks without looking at me. “I think we’ll start with footwork and balance and a bit of muscle building. Want to change? Melody’s got some spare clothing for you,” she offers.
Faye quickly looks down at her feet. “I’d like to stay in my robe, if it’s all the same to you, Professor.”
“Perfectly okay. Just don’t blame me when it gets all sweaty. Now, enough talking. Let’s go for a run and then see.”
***
I’m not sure if it’s tears or sweat running down in rivulets and getting into my eyes, while Shay, Faye, and I hold some yoga pose. My thighs tremble so badly I fear they might just give out. Or I’ll pass out first, face-planting onto the grass.
“I wonder how not moving can be so painful,” I press out between clenched teeth.
“Don’t drop your arms!” Blair snaps—as if she somehow can see what I’m doing, though she’s facing forward, having no trouble at all performing these exercises.
“If we have to lean downward one more time, I’m probably gonna pass out or vomit or both,” Shay agrees.
I cringe. “Ergh. You’d actually fall face-first into your own—”
“Concentrate,”Blair snaps. “Pass out and I might wipe the floor with your hair, Miss Yandravel. After you vomited.”
Faye’s eyes widen as they dart to me. So far, she’s had the least struggle with these exercises. “Would she really?”
I shrug and regret it instantly because my shoulders burn as if they’re on fire. “Yeah, probably,” I grind out.
“Now, one more time, down to your elbows. Don’t drop your belly yet,” Blair instructs.
We all sigh. I flop down like a stranded fish when my arms give out.
“I wonder how you can ride on Aris and actually stay on his back with arms that weak,” Blair muses, coming to stand before me with her damn trained arms crossed.
“Aris holds me in place with his magic,” I grind out.
“You actually ride Aris?” Faye’s eyes grow wide.
Aris smirks, watching us from where he lies in the sun, belly up, wings glittering.
“He can shift. And then, yeah, he lets me ride on his back.”
“Cheater,” Blair snaps at both of us.
“That must be the greatest feeling ever,” Faye says.
I spot the twist of pain in Blair’s aura. Her face stays warm, though, as she takes in Faye.
“As a child, I always wished I could ride a dragon and be a witch,” Faye says as we sit up and start an array of stretches.
“Haven’t you heard the stories about faeflesh-eating witches?” Blair asks, half teasing, half serious.
My mouth goes dry. I know faeflesh-eating witches aren’t just a rumor.
“Abyss, my parents always warned me about witches. Every time I was alone at home, I was terrified one would come to get me,” Shay cuts in. “Sometimes I hid in the closet.”
Faye just shrugs, braiding her long coppery hair anew.
“I always found them powerful and strong. In the library where I grew up, there were old books about them. I couldn’t read the words because they were in an old language, but there were hand-drawn illustrations too.
Not all witches were bad. Some even helped lesser fae—gave them food, protected their villages. ”
Blair’s eyebrows shoot up, but she says nothing, leaving us to stretch before walking back to teach the other students sparring and weapon drills.
“You think we’ll get there at some point?” Shay asks as she watches a few students—Morgana among them—wielding sticks with effortless skill.
I find Faye looking at me as if I somehow have the answer to that. Again, being able to lie is a gift when I say, with all the enthusiasm I can muster, “Of course we will. We’ll be kicking their asses.”
Because their grins are so worth it.
Ryder, Cassius, and a few other students join us for cool-down.
“Hey, library babe,” Ryder jokes to Faye, and for a second, all of us hold our breath—but to my surprise, she beams at him. Something about Ryder puts people at ease. “Nice to see you again.”
“Ughhh, dude, don’t make her all sweaty.” Shay pulls a face when Ryder tucks Faye closer to his bare chest, leaving a damn wet imprint on her robes.
“If I make her all sweaty, I’m sure it’ll be because we’re doing something else.” Ryder winks at Faye, and again we all watch. She just keeps her smile, as if she’s genuinely happy to see him again.
A hush falls over the class, and we all turn to see what caused it—only to find Kyrith walking up, his two vicious swords strapped to his back, followed by Ronin. My stomach sinks out of habit every time I see Kyrith.
Classes with him have been quiet and he’s let me be, but I don’t trust the newfound peace.
“Hells, back muscles,” Ryder drawls with a longing sigh when Ronin shrugs off his shirt and rolls his muscular, tanned shoulders, his coppery hair glinting in the sun.
Thank the stars, Kyrith keeps his clothes on.
But his head turns, his forest-green eyes crossing mine for a split second before they slide to Faye and linger there for a few heartbeats.
His aura shifts—his usual cold fury replaced by something I can’t quite make out—as the two of them look at each other.
He turns away fast, pulling one long sword from the scabbard on his back and easing into a fighting stance.
“I should probably return to the library,” Faye says suddenly.
I get up with her. “Want me to walk with you?”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Professor Alaric,” she says.
“A pleasure. Good job. See you next time,” Blair replies.
Faye nods once, then spins and briskly walks back toward the building. And I can’t help but feel that I should warn her about the shadows on the second level.
***
The bells chime somewhere, signaling the next part of class, when Kyrith usually takes over from Blair.
He glances over at us from where he’d been training a different group in real combat, and Blair makes a show of flinging her long hair over her shoulder, pretending to brush an invisible speck of dirt from her cheek with her middle finger before she stalks away, hips swinging.
I bite down on a grin when Kyrith scowls after her.
We all get to our feet, splitting into pairs when Kyrith orders us to. That is, all of us except me , because, so far, I haven’t joined in any combat.
My heart sinks when Kyrith walks over, his shoulder-long hair sticking to his forehead from the warm-up with Ronin before he ties it back into a bun, securing it with a leather strip.
“Ready to join?” he asks—not unkindly. “I heard you finally let it up with Riven.”
I scowl at him. I don’t trust him being nice for a second. “Not really.”
“You could wipe the floor with my ass,” he offers with a smirk.
Did Kyrith just smirk at me?
“No. Thanks.”
“What about us making peace?” he asks suddenly, holding out his hand to me.
I stare at it, half-expecting it to explode or curse me the second I touch it.
He just laughs—actually laughs—and it’s not the cruel snicker he usually displays. “Can’t blame you for not trusting me.”
“Okay, who are you, and where’s the real Kyrith?” I ask suspiciously, crossing my arms over my chest.
He sighs, then flicks his fingers, conjuring a thin shell of ice around us that shields our conversation from the rest of the class. “I’ll admit, I was an asshole. I didn’t like you. I wanted you dead for what you meant to Caryan.”
I frown, thinking back to what Faye told me about the prophecy. “Do you really think I’m gonna kill him one day?” I ask—because, honestly, that idea still sounds so surreal it’s ridiculous.
He cracks his neck, sizing me up and down. “Don’t you ?” he asks back.
“Well, no. Because one—how would anyone kill an immortal? Two—how would I kill a fae like Caryan? And three—I don’t kill people on purpose, and no matter what you all think or say, I’m never going to change that. And I strongly doubt something like that would happen by accident.”
“Huh,” he grunts, almost thoughtfully. “Riven was right. And Ronin too. I misjudged you.” He pauses. “I thought you’d be crueler. But you really aren’t.”
He sounds kind of surprised by that—but I guess, among fae, I really am not cruel at all in comparison.
“Why didn’t you let your magic loose? You could’ve air-fried me—and gods, I’d have deserved it.”
I just shrug. “I was afraid I’d kill the whole campus. Not worth the risk. Don’t flatter yourself: you’re not that high up on my blacklist.”
He snorts, but the corners of his mouth twitch.
“I was a cold-blooded bastard to you. But I want you to know that’s because I wanted to train you.
Wanted you to release that magic.” He hesitates, then adds, “Yes, I volunteered to train you—not because I wanted to torture you, but because none of the others could do it. Not the way I could. Ronin’s too careful.
And Riven and Caryan…” His voice softens. “They feel something for you.”
Before I can say anything, he continues, “War is cruel, Melody. War makes no exceptions. Has no mercy. And it’s coming, no matter what we want.”
His forest-green eyes shine with honesty—which I can also sense in his aura—and for a second, I’m just lost for words.
Here’s my archenemy, telling me he only ever wanted the best for me.
“But I truly wonder why you didn’t kill me,” he says finally, and I realize it’s actually a question.
“Because I’m no monster. And not even you were going to turn me into one.” I pause, then add, “And also”—gods, my tongue twists trying to say it—“because, no matter how much of an asshole you are to me, you aren’t to everyone.”
I think of Faye. And he must be thinking of her, too, because he suddenly says, “Nice to see her up here. It’s the first time she’s left the archives in years.”
I frown. “How would you know?”
He shrugs. “Because I check on her. Ask about her. I heard you made her come up here.”
I rein in my surprise when I see the shift in his aura. He actually cares about Faye.
“I’m just sad Caryan and I didn’t find them sooner,” he adds, almost absently. “We could’ve prevented so many atrocities.” Pain flickers through his aura.
“You saved her,” I offer, because, right now, he’s actually being…nice.
“Yeah. But the others, I didn’t.” He shakes his head as if to clear it, then holds out his hand to me again. “Peace? No more beatings and torture. I just want to help you train your magic. I can’t help you release it fully—not like Caryan can—but I can still teach you a few things.”
I surprise myself by taking his hand, feeling the rough warmth of his calloused fingers as I grip them.
“Fine. But I’ll tell you the same thing I told Riven: be an asshole again and I’ll fry your damn balls off.”
He throws me a wide grin. “Ah, I see Blair’s been rubbing off on you.”
“I guarantee you, only in the best ways.”