Page 13 of Power of Draken (Fated to the Draken Riders #1)

Chapter 13

Rowan

W alking in the middle of the triad is surreal at best and terrifying at worst. Thoughts rattle through my head like spinning dice and I blurt the first one that lands face up. "I thought Logan wanted nothing to do with me."

"That was yesterday,” Logan says without breaking stride. “I've changed my mind."

"How often can I expect that to happen?"

"In the four years I’ve known him, this is the second time,” Kyrian replies, walking straight through the group of cadets gathering in front of us. They part smoothly, giving the triad the right of way even in the organized chaos of the training yard. Kyrian rolls his shoulders. "So I think we are safe for another couple of turns around the sun.”

“What did he change his mind about the last time?” I ask, as if Logan isn’t walking two paces away from me and hearing the entire conversation.

“About whether to kill me or not,” Kai calls over his shoulder as he breaks away to do whatever it is he does to preside over the whole debacle of cadets. “To be fair, most people who meet me debate that.”

Kyrian snorts. “Aye, they don’t debate verra long though. Unfortunately for them, no ne can make good on the wish. That wee bastard is hard to kill.”

“Come along little rabbit, Collin’s arm isn’t going to break itself,” Logan says, veering toward the sparring ring as he makes a come hither motion with his hands. His black shaggy hair flounces with each step, as unruly and unpredictable as he seems to be.

“We aren’t really training to break Collin’s arm, right?” I ask. After the last twenty four hours, I no longer have any sense of what is and is not on the table. “We are training to fight Flurry’s fae.”

Logan stops and gives Kyrian a pleading look, as if it pains him to conjure an answer to such an obviously absurd question.

Kyrian puts one hand in his pocket. “If ye want to be precise about it, they are training to fight Flurry’s fae,” he drawls, waving his hands over a group of the cadets who’ve already started combat drills. “Kai, Logan and I are not, by account of being bloody good at killing things already. And you are about as likely to kill a fae in hand to hand combat as Logan here is to dance ballet. So, technically, breaking Collin’s arm is a fair goal to set.”

In other words, the insanity marches on.

“I mean if you’d rather join the rest of the squad…” Kyrian points to where our teammates are already hauling sandbags over an obstacle course that makes me cringe just by looking at it, “I think I could talk Logan into doing that instead.”

"Right.” I give Logan the brightest smile I can summon. “Lead on. To anywhere but there."

He gives me a wolfish snort and turns to continue our march to the training ring. He vaults over the fence surrounding a sand-covered arena.

"Full disclosure,” I say into his back, as I climb in through the bars instead. “I am kind of a disaster at this.”

"Disaster is what happened out there.” Logan cocks his head in the direction of the courtyard, where the flare up between Collin and me unfurled for everyone to see. He points down to the sand. “In here, we call it training."

Before I can say anything more, Logan's foot shoots out and hooks around my an kle, pulling it out from under me. My back slams against the sand, knocking the breath out of me. I brace myself for the familiar bruising pain, but it doesn't hurt. It's just frightening as all shit.

Logan looks down at me for a moment before offering a hand to help me up. Suspiciously, I take it and stand on shaky legs—only for him to knock me down again with a different sweep. When his hand reaches out a second time, I glower. "I think I'll just stay down here and spare us both the trouble."

A corner of his mouth lifts. "And how do you imagine down there will work out for you?”

Before I can answer, Logan follows me to the ground, flattening me to my back and straddling my chest in an easy motion. His thighs clamp on either side of my ribs, trapping me beneath him with a firm hold that sends a shiver down my spine. Grabbing my arms, he pins them above my head, then shifts for a moment as he transfers both my wrists into one of his large palms.

I can’t move. I know it because I try to buck and squirm and wriggle out, only to fail again and again. Logan isn’t hurting me—I’m pretty sure he isn’t even settling his full weight atop my chest like he could—but he’s restrained me completely. Which would be bad enough on its own, but what’s worse is that instead of the logical panic I should feel, my breath is suddenly catching with a different sensation entirely.

Inexplicably, I’m now hyper aware of every detail of Logan’s face, every movement of his body. Of the way his muscles flex beneath his loose training shirt, of the scent of his exertion mixing with the crispness of the cool air. Of the loose strand of his black hair falling over his right eyebrow. The one marked by a faint scar.

Something hot and inappropriate pools in my belly.

Logan’s eyes lock with mine, his irises a mosaic of golden honey and a lupine like challenge, all mingled together. He leans closer, his breath brushes against my ear as that loose strand of hair now brushes the scars on my own cheek.

“Still opting for staying on the ground, rabbit?” He asks. His free hand brushes along my ribs, the pads of his fingers pressing into the tender spot between the bones.

Goosebumps rush across my skin and my mouth feels too dry to speak.

“Great place to slide a dagger here,” Logan says, pressing in again, just to the verge of pain but not past it. “And here too.”

I dutifully try to be worried about the imaginary dagger, but all I can concentrate on is the feel of Logan’s thighs.

“I—” the tip of my tongue darts out to lick my lips and Logan’s attention snaps to it. “I…”

Logan’s hand tightens around my wrists, holding me in place with a commanding strength that sends another unbidden thrill through me. His eyes slide over my body. My face. My scars.

Suddenly he is up on his feet quicker than he’d gotten to the ground. Not just up, but backing away from me. It’s only a few paces, but it feels farther.

“Next skill,” Logan announces, his arms crossing over his chest as he looks anywhere but at my face. “Breakfalls. Let’s see where you are on that. Start backwards. Chin down, slap the sand to dissipate the force. Go.”

Despite his command, it takes me a few heartbeats to shrug myself back into reality. Logan waits me out at a distance, awkwardness pursuing me each step of the way. I want to ask what it is about my scars that Logan finds so repulsive, but doing so might also imply that I fancy myself desirable to him otherwise. I’m not touching that fiction.

It’s not as if I don’t have a mirror. I know I don’t look like Alyssa.

Three days later, Ellie grabs my shirt and pulls me to the back row corner of the lecture hall as soon as I enter Strategy and Tactics. “Get your mysterious little butt over here,” she hisses, keeping half an eye on the front of the room where Colonel Thomeo is setting up a slate for a draken lecture. Probably because someone confused draken and dragons the other day, which is like equating a regular wolf to a fae wolf shifter. Ellie pokes my chest with her finger. “You’ve been impossible to get alone since, you know, Collin showed his true colors. ”

She sounds angry about Collin, but unsurprised—but at least she only rubs it in with her tone.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I usher us into seats. “Kyrian won’t let me three paces from his sight unless it’s with Logan.”

“So where are they?”

“Kyrian’s finally surrendering to a nap, and Logan is allergic to academics.”

“And Grayson?”

“Doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me.” Except for the part when he saved me from the commandant’s wrath. “So he at least is a non-issue just now.”

“Except he’s been watching your every move since you stepped in here.” Ellie motions subtly to the other side of the room, where Kai stands with his back to the wall and a dagger twirling in his hands. Sure enough, his ice blue gaze is right on me.

“Fuck.” I quickly face the front of the room, where Thomeo is starting his lecture. Sure enough, it’s dragon versus draken, with a focus on the draken anatomy. With the draken’s armor-like scales, only arrows shot into the vulnerable creases behind their legs, ears, and a few other places will penetrate deep enough for the auric alloy I make to take effect—so anatomy is important. Which is why I already know all this, and so does Ellie.

“How is your squad?” I ask her.

A combat cadet in front of us turns to give me a dirty look. “Would you shut up, already? Those of us who aren’t fucking our commanding officers actually need to know this to stay alive.”

“If you don’t know it by now, Eryndor may be safer with you dead,” Ellie replies with a saccharine smile. “So I like to think of us as performing community service.”

The cadet gives Ellie a death glare then turns away with a huff. Ellie squeezes my arm. “Don’t listen to them.”

Them. So there are more gems out there. And without any of the triad near me, they are all too happy to share the barbs. “Collin is the one who cheated on me. How am I the whore?”

Ellie sighs. “Because asshats are asshats and Chambers is the biggest shit spinning ass of them all.” She slumps in her chair. “Oh, and you are looking at the asshat’s new archer.”

“What?”

“He dragged me into his squad.” She shakes her head, both of us knowing there is nothing to be done about it.

“- which does what, Lexington?”

I jerk at Thomeo’s question, clearing my throat while I try to piece together what he might have been droning about. Draken… dragons… anatomy… weapons…

Thomeo gives me a disapproving look. “What does auric steel do?”

Right. My contribution to humankind.

"Auric steel is steel coated with auric alloy,” I answer by rote. “It makes the steel stronger and resistant to damage and corrosion. When used against fae, it disrupts their immortality and healing, making them as vulnerable as humans and preventing shifters from changing forms. Against draken, it temporarily paralyzes the wings and other major muscles, effectively grounding them."

“For how long?” A familiar dark voice demands from the back of the room. Kai. I turn in my seat to where he is gripping his dagger by the blade. “How long does this temporary paralysis last?”

“A few hours.” I fight the urge to shrink under his scrutiny, especially as shadows spread from him to the floor. I straighten my spine, feeling the need to defend my craft. “Increasing the concentration for longer paralysis would reduce our overall alloy production. Since dropping draken from the sky usually ends the threat, stronger paralysis isn’t necessary."

“Quite right,” Thomeo interjects, reclaiming control of the class. My attention, however, stays on Kai Grayson.

Kai’s face is dark, but the grip he has on his blade blanches his knuckles and the shadows around him thicken and writhe. Before his shadows envelop his hands, I see a trickle of blood slip from his clenched fist.

Abruptly, Kai stalks out of the lecture hall, his black cloak billowing behind him.