Page 77 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

Exhaling, I settle on telling him a partial truth. “We were playing a drinking game, and I was dared to come in here. That’s all.” When he says nothing, I ramble on. “I never would have come in here otherwise. I swear.”

“I see.”

Having no idea what else to say, I start to head for the door. Two steps away from freedom, I spin to face him. “Do you think the king would send his men to assassinate someone for defecting?”

His forehead creases in surprise but really, he can’t be more surprised than me. I have no idea where that came from.

Thorne doesn’t speak for several moments, his expression unreadable. “You would be shocked at the awful things a king orders his people to do.”

“Why, though? Why would he do anything like that?” I shake my head. “He’s always been good to my family.”

Thorne’s face darkens with anger, and he narrows his eyes. “Thank you for that reminder.”

“Wait, what?”

Grabbing my arm, he half drags me toward the door. “And should you get the notion to hook up with someone, I suggest you go find a fellow recruit.” He opens the door. “Because I’m not on the menu.”

Fury burns inside me. I want to punch the condescending look off of his beautiful face. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re the last person I want to hook up with.”

“Could’ve fooled me five minutes ago.” Lip curling into a sneer, he gives me a shove and closes the door.

Seething, I take off for the dorm without glancing back. Good riddance. No one in their right mind would want to kiss such an obnoxious, egotistical bonehead.

My stinging eyes, though, tell a different story.

Chapter Twenty-Six

While I kick off the next morning with a mild headache, Olive’s pained moan when Helene draws the curtains open to let sunlight stream in suggests she’s suffering through a much worse hangover. She stumbles out of bed for the bathroom, still reeking of whiskey. I’m about to offer her some sympathy when realization dawns on me.

Both my roommates are up. Along with the sun.

I’ve overslept and missed my private flight training session.

Thorne’s going to strangle me.

I whip off the covers to hop out of bed but sag back into the mattress. Even if I hurry, there’s no time to train. Not if I want breakfast. And after last night, I don’t know if I’m up to facing him this morning, anyway.

The memory of him glaring and telling me to find someone else to hook up with because he’s not on the menu makes me want to crawl into my armoire and never come out. Since that’s not an option, I follow Olive into the showers and get dressed for class.

During weapons training, one of Mark and Elijah’s croniesaccidentallystabs Olive’s hand with the business end of a dagger. When I lose my temper and yell that I’d like to accidentally separate his head from his neck, our instructor orders me to walk it off by escorting Olive to the infirmary. Funny. With all the anxiety I harbored about Flighthaven prior to my arrival, I never once worried about intentional attacks by classmates. At the moment, that seems to be the biggest threat.

Thanks to my decision that morning to reduce my usual amount of remedy, my performance in magic improves. My fireballs expand in size and power, and I even produce a mini fire tornado in the palm of my hand.

Resnick offers me an encouraging nod.

Torno, who’s observing today, frowns. “Are you sure you’re taking the correct dosage of eyril, Lark? Your power level is still pretty weak.”

I grit my teeth at the nearby snickers.Please, say it louder so the assholes in the back can hear.

“Yes.” Since eyril doesn’t work on me and also causes me nausea, is my answer really a lie? Either way, I avoid eye contact.

As if that’s not bad enough, a familiar figure enters the arena and stalks toward me. “Fledgling Axton!”

Oh, boy. Angry doesn’t even begin to describe Instructor Thorne’s expression right now.

He’s livid.

A muscle ticks in his jaw. His mouth sets in a hard line. His dark hair, free of its usual leather cord, blows around his face in the light breeze. Something about his fierceness reminds me of the painting of Zeru, God of the Heavens, that hangs on the wall in the library of my mother’s castle.

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