Page 53 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

Keep it up, and I’ll need to classify ogling as my new hobby.

With more effort than I’d care to admit, I wrestle my attention off my instructor’s backside and focus on the metal tool in his hand. It has a dull hook on one side and small brush on the other, and Thorne uses the hooked end to pick at a foreign object lodged in the hoof.

The alicorn jerks her head, tensing as the metal hits a sensitive spot.

“Easy, Solara. You’ll feel better once the rock is out.”

As if soothed by his throaty rumble, Solara stills, allowing Thorne to gently pry out the stone. He frees the offending rock and tucks it into his pocket before easing the alicorn’s hoof to the ground and straightening to rub her neck.

The alicorn nickers, nudging his shoulder with her muzzle.

I’m rooted to the spot, transfixed by this peek at my crabby instructor’s tender side. A side that, until this moment, I didn’t realize existed. My heart softens, and I chastise it for acting like such a wimp. So what if Thorne treats animals with kindness and care? One admirable trait doesn’t excuse all those times he behaved like an utter jackhole.

I swallow, struck by the odd sense that I’m intruding on something personal. “Good morning.”

Thorne takes his sweet time turning around. When he does, my breath catches. The back view in the white shirt was nice, but the front view steals the show. The garment hugs his chest like it was specially tailored for him, highlighting every dip and ridge.

My gaze slides to the upper part of his stomach. Coasts a little lower. Just as it reaches the waistband of his trousers, Thorne clears his throat. My head snaps up, and warmth blooms in my cheeks.

Kill me now. Flighthaven’s grumpiest instructor caught me checking out his package.

A hint of amusement crooks up his lips, but that hint of mirth vanishes in the blink of an eye. Wearing an unreadable expression, he watches me without speaking. His intense eyes never leave my face. The scrutiny makes me squirm, and my blush grows, traveling to my neck.

As the moments stretch on without him uttering a word, my embarrassment morphs into irritation.

“What, are you giving me the silent treatment now? Very mature. Use your words, please.”

“I’ll give you three.” He raises his right fist and extends a single finger. “Pitchfork.” Another finger joins the first. “Stalls.” A third finger goes up. “Now.”

He growls the last word, and I wonder what in the hells I’ve done to piss him off this time.

Honestly, I should find this return to his usual asshole self a relief. Witnessing his softer side is too confusing by far…and tempting enough to be dangerous. Especially after last night.

The reminder of the dying dragon kills the snarky reply on the tip of my tongue. I’m too tired and sad to argue, and I bet he is too. No sense in aggravating him further. Instead, I answer with a nod.

I set to work, starting with Solara’s empty stall. The pitchfork rubs against my skin, irritating the blisters that already dot my fingers and palms. I do my best to ignore the pain that grows with each stall. I’m on the fourth stall when a splinter in the wooden handle snags and tears a blister. The burst of red-hot pain makes me suck in a sharp breath and drop the offending tool.

“Let me see it.”

I flinch, glancing up to find myself face-to-face with my instructor. “See what?”

“Your hand.” He grasps my right wrist and inspects my palm with the same gentleness he used on Solara. “Why didn’t you tell me your hands look like they got in a fight with a meat grinder?”

I shrug, my temper flaring. “I don’t know what a fight with a meat grinder looks like. Besides, isn’t this part of why you have me working here? To teach me a lesson? To make a high-and-mighty noble suffer through hard labor? I figured any wounds I incurred would make you happy.”

His breath hisses between his teeth. “No, Duchess. The sight of your bleeding hands doesn’t make me happy at all. And I already told you that mucking out the stable isn’t a punishment.”

“Why have me do it then?”

“Because I’m hoping that repeated exposure to alicorns in a safe setting will help you get over your fear faster!” He pinches the bridge of his nose and tips his head back as if struggling to regain control. “I know someone who used to be terrified of horses. One reared up and kicked him in the chest as a child, and after that, he refused to go near them. When he decided he needed to get over his fear, we started him out by watching horses from a distance. Once he was comfortable with that, we shrank the distance until he was able to touch them without panicking. Eventually, he was able to ride.”

Chagrined, I rub the back of my neck. “Oh.”

“Yes.Oh.”

My conscience stings. “Now I feel like an ass.” He lifts his eyebrows as if in agreement but says nothing. “Do you really think it will work?”

He shrugs. “Won’t know until we try.”

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