Page 65 of Court of Secrets and Flames

I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder. “Shh, don’t say stuff like that out here. Although, can’t say I’m particularly thrilled about becoming your future sister-in-law either.”

His chest rumbles with the force of his anger. “Are you trying to piss me off? Stop. Talking.”

I ignore his command. “Maybe I need to figure out a way to return to King Xenon.” My skin crawls from even uttering the thought aloud, but what kind of person am I if I allow other people to suffer on my behalf?

“What the fuck?” A snarl hits my left ear as Knox whirls me around and treats me to his dark scowl. “You can’t be serious.Return you to Xenon? You must be out of your mind if you think I’d ever allow you to rush headfirst into danger like that.”

And I guess this fight is on. “Allowme? Since when do I require your permission to do things?”

His nostrils flare, and he exhales a loud sigh as he struggles to control himself. “Poor wording, I’ll admit. But, Lark, you must realize I’d rather die than let Xenon get his claws into you. It’s not safe. Why would you even suggest such a fool-headed thing?”

While I could point out that Tirene hasn’t proven to be all that safe either, I hold my tongue. “Because I don’t want people getting hurt over me. What if me being here gets more people injured, or worse, killed? What if Xenon plans even more raids?”

The hardness to his features instantly softens. “Then we’ll deal with it as it happens. If you do go back, though, I’m going with you.”

I gawk. “You’re being completely unreasonable. That’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard since the king literally saw you sprout wings and steal me out from under his nose.”

“Really? And what do you call handing over the one person who might be the key to Xenon becoming the most powerful ruler in all the kingdoms? If that’s true, you stand to doom a lot more Tirenese than a few raids.”

His valid point only frustrates me more. “Right. I should have known that your real worry was about Tirene. It’s not like you care what happens to me.”

“I never intended to care, but I should have known better. You hit me like an alicorn hoof to the chest from the very first moment I laid eyes on you. And after that run-in, I knew I was in trouble. Why do you think I behaved like such an ass?”

I roll my eyes. “Hmm, let me think…oh, I know! Because you are an ass?”

His mouth twitches. “That too, but mostly, it was my attempt to keep you at arm’s length…even though for the purpose of the mission, buttering you up and trying to get close to you was a much smarter strategy.”

At the mention of his mission, familiar pang stabs my chest, and I start to spin away. He stops me and tugs on my braid to tilt my head back. “Don’t. Please don’t shut me out. Yes, you started as a mission, but the gods must have laughed that day because I wanted you from the very start, in a way that I’ve never wanted any woman before.” He trails his knuckles down my cheek. “I tried to fight it, for all the good it did me. Now, let me escort you back inside.”

His words leave me reeling the entire walk back to my chambers. Does he actually mean those things, or is this merely another game?

Chapter Twenty-Three

The sun beats down with a vengeance, scorching the open training field where I hover a foot above the parched earth. Knox stands before me, his silhouette haloed by the blinding light, a heavy leather ball gripped in his hand. He tosses it—no,hurlsit—with a force that should be reserved for enemies, not reluctant apprentices like myself.

My weight increases when my fingers close around the ball, but I hold steady with gritted teeth. I’m supposed to throw it back without dipping an inch lower, maintaining this cursed distance above ground while we thrust the ball back and forth.

“Keep focused, Lark.” His words strike like barbed stones, cutting as they sink deep into the well of my resentment.

It’s difficult to do with my arms going numb. “I’m trying.”

This is my second day of excruciating training sessions with Knox since I got my wings, and I’m mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. We’ve trained with various weapons and practiced magic. And now this. All with our wings out.

King Jasper decreed it. His brother must train his future bride and bring me up to speed swiftly. The king seems oddly insistent about the matter, and since our interests align in terms of me becoming a proficient flyer, I don’t protest.

I’m still not going to marry him.

Knox’s momentary tenderness, when pain wracked my back and he drew me a bath, is but a distant memory as he presses on with the callousness of the Barda bloodline, intent on shaping me into a tool, a weapon.

He’s in an exceptionally gruff mood today, his jaw tensed like he’s worried about something. He’s been pissy since his brother’s surprise announcement but today is even worse. Every time I try to ask him what’s going on or attempt conversation, though, he mumbles a few words and continues with our torture session.

It takes me back to not so very long ago, during my training at Flighthaven. Then, he had a persona to maintain. A reputation as the academy’s strictest instructor to uphold. Now? The charade is over, and he’s training me—pushing me—like my life might one day depend on it.

“Your form is slipping,” Knox barks at me with his feet planted on the ground and his wings at rest. “Try again.”

I comply, throwing the ball back with a force that mirrors my inner tempest. The weight leaves my hands, but the heaviness, full of distrust and unspoken yearnings, of unanswered questions and fear of the future, remains in my chest.

Without even waiting a breath this time, he throws the ball right back.

---