Page 10 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

I flinch.

With its gaze locked on me, the animal—far larger than any ordinary horse—shakes its massive head. Then its enormous wings begin to unfurl, and I can’t decide what I find more horrifying, the wings or the lethal horn narrowed to a sharp point on top of the alicorn’s head.

My heart leaps…both at the animal’s magnificence and the danger it represents.

Taking a step back, I fight down rising alarm at the thought of having to ride one of these creatures.

I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, but the panic doesn’t subside. As my anxiety builds, my palms start to sweat.

Shit.

I’m about to have a full-blown panic attack in front of Quinnelle, the alicorn, and the handful of students milling about.

The thrumming whoosh of my heartbeat fills my ears, and my brain empties of everything except the urge to flee. I spin and bolt, desperate to put distance between myself and the terrifying creature.

I can’t do this. I can’t stay here and?—

A hard, muscled body smacks into me, or maybe I smack into…him.

The impact knocks me off balance. My bag slips from my shoulder and goes flying. Strong hands grip my waist, and out of reflex, I grab onto a pair of muscled biceps to steady myself. My palms buzz from the skin-on-skin contact.

When I look up, my lungs seize.

The man holding me is incredibly attractive. No, attractive is too tepid a word, as well as a massive understatement.

Stunning. Breathtaking. Beautiful.

Can a man be beautiful?

I decide right here and now that yes, this man is downright gorgeous…and utterly dangerous.

Chapter Five

My mouth goes dry as I peer into a pair of expressive brown eyes flecked with gold. His skin is a bronze hue, and shoulder-length black hair frames the bone structure of a face that could have been chiseled by an artist. High, proud cheekbones. Full, kissable lips. A strong, square jaw, featuring a thin scar along the jawline that enhances rather than detracts from the overall aesthetic.

When the sinfully attractive man clears his throat, I realize with a start that I’ve been staring. I release his arms as if his warm skin burned. Good gods, how long did I stand there gazing at him like some lovesick fool?

“Watch where you’re going.” He steps back in a fluid motion and studies me, his full lips thinning into a harsh line. “I didn’t realize Flighthaven was adding a fashion class to the schedule.”

His deep and throaty purr slides over me like velvet before his words sink in.

Warmth creeps up my neck. “Excuse me?”

In contrast to the alluring quality of his voice, his expression could cut glass. He folds muscled arms over a broad chest. “Do you need to work on your listening skills as well as your walking?”

A small throng of students gathers around us, whispering and snickering. Embarrassed heat spreads to my cheeks and chest. Once again, I fight the urge to once. I’m not used to being the center of attention—I’m barely used to leaving my castle—and can’t say I’m enjoying the experience. At all. Apparently, everything about this man is perfect…except his attitude.

Since running isn’t an option, I firm my shoulders, telling myself not to judge. I bet he didn’t mean to be so sharp. I’m on edge, too, which probably makes me more sensitive to discord than usual. Summoning a tentative smile, I attempt to smooth things over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I don’t know what else I may have done to offend you, but I’m sure it was an accident.”

His icy gaze turns predatory as he crowds my personal space. “What offends me, Duchess, is the fact that you’ve just arrived and yet are already wasting my time.” He jerks his chin at my dress. “This is the royal flight academy, not a place for you to flounce around in your finery or nightwear in search of suitors.”

“I…what?”

I track his attention to an ivory silk nightgown that’s peeking out of my satchel and pray for the ground to swallow me up as I hastily stuff the garment back inside.

His gaze travels my body in a slow, insolent sweep, as if recording every single weakness and flaw. When he finishes, the slight curl of his upper lip confirms I’ve been judged and found wanting. “The next time I see you, you’d better be dressed appropriately. We don’t have time for tea parties here.”

Nearby, someone laughs out loud, covering their outburst with a cough only when Mr. Hard-ass shoots a glacial glare in their direction.

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