Page 20 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

My pulse kicks up, and I try not to think about the powerful, dangerous creature I saw yesterday. Because I’m about to get up close and personal with one.

“We saddle them.” She glances at me from over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s really not hard. I’ll show you which one was Leesa’s and what you need to do.”

She disappears into the ominous building, but I’m rooted to the ground. Snared by my own fear, my feet remain planted in the same spot when Nick emerges, leading a prancing alicorn.

My heart beats double time. I forget to breathe. Tiny beads of sweat form on the back of my neck, trickling down in icy rivulets.

Stay calm. Just. Stay. Calm.

Nick passes with the alicorn, and the monstrous dark bay creature looks—actually looks—me in the eyes.

I rub the scar on my forearm, squeezing my eyes shut as flashes of memory assault me.

Wind whips through my hair, caressing my face like a frosty kiss. I giggle, and warm laughter rings out from behind me. A strong arm tightens around my waist.

Then shouts erupt. An animal shrieks. Something hard and unyielding crashes into my side.

Fiery pain explodes in my body as my stomach dips, then plummets. Someone screams, and my vision fades.

“Are you finished daydreaming?”

Daydreaming? I wish. More like waking nightmaring. Swaying on my feet, I open my eyes, taking in quick, shallow breaths. “Yes. Sorry.”

Thorne stands mere feet away, holding the reins of a massive silvery gray alicorn. The animal stands several hands taller than the average saddle horse, dwarfing the brooding instructor. In front of a pair of beautiful, feathered wings, a leather saddle is strapped to its muscular back, and a matching bridle with reins attached clings to its thick muzzle. The regal creature tosses its head, its dark mane rippling in the light breeze. Glinting in the sunlight, a black horn almost the length of my entire arm juts out from the middle of its forehead.

A weapon in and of itself.

I inch backwards, because no thank you. My racing heartbeat throbs in my throat. Thorne starts barking orders, but a terrible screech drowns him out. Shouting follows.

Between us and the stable, two alicorns face off in an obvious challenge. A black one dappled with white spots rears up on his hind legs while his tan-colored opponent lowers his head and hooves the dirt.

The riders atop their backs yell and yank on the reins, but their mounts must be too enraged to care. The spotted one paddles his front hooves and lashes out, missing the tan alicorn by a hair as she dances away.

Thorne curses. “Davon! Oversaw! What the fuck are you doing? Get your mounts under control!”

The petite woman on the dappled alicorn talks to her mount and rubs his neck. The man on the tan alicorn viciously wrenches the reins to one side and jams his heels into the animal’s ribs. The beast squeals.

Our flight instructor growls. “Hurt that alicorn and see what happens. I dare you.” If I thought his tone was frigid when dealing with me, it’s pure ice now. “Axton. You’ll need to take Zephyr’s reins while I?—”

A bloodcurdling scream cuts him off. When I see the reason, bile barrels up my throat.

The spotted alicorn’s horn protrudes from the opposing rider’s thigh like a godsdamned spear. With a furious shake of his head, he plucks the rider from the saddle and chucks him to the ground.

“Never mind,” Thorne continues calmly, as if he’s chatting about the weather, “looks like they resolved it amongst themselves.”

The injured rider sobs, rolling in the dirt while clutching both hands to his wound. Crimson paints his skin, matching the blood dripping from the spotted alicorn’s horn.

Meanwhile, both animals are now calm as can be, grazing on grass side-by-side.

Bile scorches my throat. “Ziva save us. This can’t be happening.”

Thorne further stuns me by remaining in his current spot, watching the fledgling bleed like it’s an everyday occurrence. Hells, for all I know, maybe it is. “Someone help Davon walk to the infirmary. I doubt he nicked the main artery, but it’s always a possibility.” His voice sounds bored, like he couldn’t care less if Davondidget gored through a major artery. “Mortimer, grab Surge and give him a thorough inspection before returning him to his stall.”

Helene races over to the spotted alicorn and snags the reins.

What type of insanity is this? “That’s it?” I whisper. “That’s all you’re going to do?”

He ignores me. “Oh, and Davon,” he calls after the limping man, “you’d better hope there are no cuts on the inside of your alicorn’s mouth, or else that leg wound will be the least of your worries. Everyone else, get to work!”

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