Powers of the Six Read Online Free

since Nolan had seen him last—a peaceful year that flew by much too quickly. Last year, Master Irving had dealt with Kael while Nolan ducked away.
    Now, Nolan held the position and responsibilities of master scribe. This year he’d have to face his self-absorbed brother, whether he liked it or not. He stepped closer, stretching to hear better.
    “Where is he now?” Kael asked.
    “Safely locked in the tower, General,” Duke Ragnall answered. “You may question him at any time.”
    Kael chuckled. “I’m surprised your men had the capabilities to apprehend him. But I suppose he’s only an Empathy user. I’d be amused to see your pitiful lot try to capture someone with Speed.”
    Nolan huffed. Kael always thought his Speed Shay was better than the rest of the powers. Typical Rol’dan.
    “Yes, General. We were quite fortunate.” The duke cleared his throat. “You should be pleased to know that the last of the summons for the Tournament of Awakening are being delivered as we speak. Everything is ahead of schedule.”
    Nolan peeked around the corner. Daylight filtered through the glass in the high, domed ceiling. Kael strutted under the dim light, adorned in his golden tunic and waist-length cape. A leather jerkin stretched snugly across his broad chest. Duke Ragnall waddled behind him, acting more like a servant than the Lord of Alton.
    The way everyone loved the Rol’dan, doted on them, gave them free goods from their shops frustrated Nolan to no end. Even the duke fed Kael’s massive ego. Nolan was so tense, he almost didn’t hear the delicate padding of feet coming down the corridor. He turned, and his heart stopped. Mikayla stared at him, her slender hand on her hip. He snapped his jaw shut and dropped his eyes, taking in the rest of her.
    Gold bands encircled her upper arms, and a blue-jeweled pendant hung low on her chest, drawing attention to her revealing neckline. He forced his gaze from her chest to her gown; it cascaded down long, olive legs in numerous strips of sheer blue fabric. Several gold rings adorned the toes of her bare feet—a hint of her Talasian culture. She balanced a tray on one hand, gracefully moving closer with cat-like steps.
    Nolan stepped back as she came toward him, but the wall stopped any chance of escape. When he opened his mouth to speak, she placed a finger against his lips. The intoxicating scent of sweet-and-spicy oils permeated her skin.
    They said nothing for several long seconds, only studying each other in the lantern-lit hall while warmth flooded Nolan’s cheeks. She smiled as her hand slid down Nolan’s neck. He needed to stop her, but he couldn’t move. With a quick yank, she undid the tie on his tunic.
    He jolted to reality and grabbed her wrist, but not before her fingertips sent a fire-like jab into his chest. He inhaled sharply and glared at her, shaking his head.
    She paused, reluctantly stepped back, and wrenched her wrist free. With a playful pout, she turned and disappeared into the Great Hall, making her way toward her husband. Nolan remained against the wall, his heart pounding against his ribs.
    “Ah, Mikayla! Thank you, my dear.”
    A moment later, Mikayla reappeared, empty handed.
    Nolan flinched, bracing himself, but she did nothing but glance over her shoulder, teasing him with her eyes as she disappeared down the corridor. He watched her swaying hips as she glided out of sight.
    The voices drifted from the Great Hall, pulling Nolan back to his eavesdropping.
    “How many will attend this year?” Kael asked.
    “I believe there are around eighty from our region,” the duke said. “Nolan could tell you for certain. He has them all recorded in the city’s census reports.”
    “So my brother is still in your service?” He stressed the word brother like he’d just tasted something disgusting.
    “Yes. Of course! He recently assumed the position as my personal scribe. I’ve never seen one with such a natural talent for the job. He surpassed my