Tye shifted his feet, just to ensure that the world tipping beneath him still existed. The sand was still there, the smell of sweat and lilac. The bit of chalk powder spilling from his pocket. “You are upset because you didn’t try the split targets?” he clarified.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Lera shot back. “Would you be pleased to stretch and exercise in the bloody corner while everyone else . . . Forget it. If we are done training, I’m going home.”

“We aren’t done.” Tye snatched the lass by her upper arms as she tried to rise. Holding her steady, he bent to bring his face level with hers, meeting those large chocolate eyes unflinchingly. “You have neither the strength nor the flexibility to do what you are asking, Lera.”

“Neither did anyone but Yalis. You let them try. You let Yalis try three times.”

Bloody stars. Tye sighed, his mind starting to hurt as much as Lera’s muscles had earlier. His hands tightened on her arms and he shook her lightly. “Yes, I made them try. And they choked for it. Klarissa was healing horrid burns all morning long. You can’t even shield yet, lass, and you are mortal. What the bloody stars do you imagine you would have done on that course?”

Lera’s eyes glistened, the tears that had not been there for hours now filling her lids. “Discovered why you love it so much, for one.”

Tye started, the words hanging in the air between them. He opened his mouth then closed it without speaking, his chest tightening around his heart. He’d just put the lass through hell. She should be celebrating every bit of pain he’d ever endured, and instead . . . Stars take him. He didn’t deserve her. None of the quint did.

“One of the males said you were almost the Realm champion, but you never even told me what flex was.” Lera wiped her forearm over her face angrily. “And then . . . then you let everyone else peek into your world—everyone except me. I don’t care that it hurt; I care that you didn’t bloody let me in.”

Tye took Lera’s face between his hands, her large eyes so full of hurt that he ached to pull her against his chest and hold her there forever. “Lass . . . I . . .” He had no words. Nothing to say at all.

“You love it, don’t you? Whatever it’s called,” Lera said for him. “I saw it in your eyes when you were flipping. Before we started.”

“Flex. Flex-fire, Flex-air, the divisions are separated by magical affinity. And yes, I loved it—though not the pain part. That’s Coal’s department.” A corner of Tye’s mouth twitched but settled quickly. He didn’t talk about this part of his life, not even with his quint brothers. Not even with Elidyr, who was a bastard but would be most likely to understand. But with Lera . . . It was difficult to deny her that part of himself just now.

Releasing her, Tye crouched back on the sand, his gaze on the horizontal bar still marking the arena’s center. “There was a time when flex was the center of my world, Lilac Girl. But that time is long past. As for today . . .” He sighed. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t mean to make you feel isolated. I’m truly sorry for it.”

Lera’s eyes softened, and to Tye’s surprise, she knelt right beside him on the sand and pulled one of his calloused hands into the softness of hers. The leftover chalk on Tye’s palm dusted her clothes. “Tell me about flex,” she said softly. “What do you like about it? Is there much more to it than the pain?”

Tye chuckled. “It’s intoxicating, lass. The rush of flying through the air, defying death, controlling the world.” Reading the confusion in Lera’s eyes, he grasped for a better explanation. “Most fae feel their magic like a phantom limb and then proceed to wield that limb like a club. Even River, who is powerful enough to make the earth tremble and break, could never slingshot a hundred stones the way top flex-earth athletes can, with each projectile hitting its own perfect target. Of course, River will claim he doesn’t need to, that he can just make it rain boulders and let the damn things land as they wish. It’s true enough, but River has never felt the thrill of riding the edge of muscle and magic, skimming the impossible. No wine compares to that, lass.” But wine is a great deal cheaper.

“Why did you stop training?” Lera asked, and it was all Tye could do not to flinch away. “Because of the quint call?”

“No, it was well before that. I quit when I discovered that all games are rigged—whether you play flex or dice. It’s just that cheating at flex is a wee bit harder.” Tye conjured a cocky smile, a light voice that he knew he’d perfected. “Smart money said I should cheat at dice instead.”

Lera’s eyes narrowed, that intelligent gaze piercing right through him. Making him feel naked. Tye swallowed, seeking a reason to turn away, even as he knew it was too late.

“You can’t really cheat at flex, can you?” she asked. “Not unless you rig the judges or sabotage your opponent.”

“Or both.” Tye shook himself, his hair flopping over one eye. He’d come to peace with his choices. He had. And even if he hadn’t stopped when he did, the quint call would have pulled him from the game just as it had Elidyr. It was stupid to let reality sting him still, after all these centuries. “I’m not the prince of Slait, Lilac Girl. Or even the prince of Blaze. There are some competitions that an athlete of my birth can’t win, no matter their skill.”

Glancing at the horizontal bar, Tye brushed his thumb along Lera’s cheekbone. “You saw the harsh part of flex. Do you think you could hold up a little longer to see its rewards?”

A small, tenuous nod of trust.

Summoning more courage than it should have taken, Tye held his hand out to Lera and walked her to the horizontal bar still standing erect in the middle of the ring. “Grab on,” he said, gripping Lera’s waist to hoist her up before hopping up himself to hang just behind her. “Just a few more seconds, lass.” Releasing one hand, Tye wrapped it around Lera’s waist, his legs ensnaring hers like vines. Intrigued at the setup, Tye’s magic uncoiled with a purr to twine around him and the lass.

Grinning into Lera’s hair, Tye bent at the waist and used their twined legs to start the two of them into an easy swing. Back and forth, back and forth, a pendulum gathering momentum. Waiting until Lera relaxed against him. And once she did, Tye gleefully swung the little minx in a full, gut-clenching circle that made his heart sing as loudly as Lera screamed.

To Tye’s delight, Lera allowed him to carry her back to the suite twenty minutes later, keeping her hands wrapped around his neck the entire time. Granted, she couldn’t exactly use her arms for much else after this morning’s training session. A wicked smile touched Tye’s lips. If he played it right, the lass might let him rub out those sore muscles, maybe even hold her for a while.

Truth be told, Tye needed it more than she did.

Still grinning, he opened the door to their suite—only to wish he’d gone elsewhere as angry voices burst forth from the opening.

“You can’t let that happen, River!” Autumn’s high tone teetered on the edge of desperation, making Tye’s arms tighten around Lera.

Stepping in carefully, he found the other males home as well—and keeping a safe distance from the arguing siblings. Opting for the couch, Tye sat himself in the corner, keeping Lera on his lap.

River faced Autumn, speaking too calmly. “There is nothing I can do to stop it, Autumn. You know the runes and magic better than anyone.”

“You can go after her. Call for the third trial. The council is willing to leave you in the same location as Kora’s quint and then—”

“You talked to the council behind my back?” The ire in River’s voice chilled the air, making Tye’s heart beat faster. Canines bared, River advanced on his sister. “How dare—”

“They are in Karnish, River,” Autumn said, tripping over the words in a desperate rush. “Klarissa put Kora in the center of a war zone at the Blaze border as bloody bait. To get you to move.”