Page 123 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

I curl my fingers into tight fists and try to relax my jaw before I crack a tooth or two while I watch Ara spar with Ilario. Keeping my distance is not easy, and standing over here watching her laugh triumphantly because she just managed to pin him to the mat is fucking torture.

Her eyes fly over to me, and our gazes lock. I have no idea how she does it, but she always senses me, no matter how sneaky I am. I give her a small smile and a nod before leaving the room.

We just got back from our last weeklong patrol flight along the coast. The same one Ara accompanied us last time, and I’m exhausted. But I had to see her before I could even think of rest.

Ever since she told me just how much she’s risking here, I’m worried when I’m gone for long stretches of time. As far as I know, Foley hasn’t made a move, but I don’t doubt he will. From what I heard, he holds a grudge, and I’ve caught him glaring at Ara more than once.

Three days until Picking starts, and then she will be up on that mountain for five days. I try very hard to ignore what could go wrong in those five days and instead concentrate on the fact that in little over a week, Ara will be a rider, and nothing is keeping me from her then.

So I have to ensure no one notices anything between us—not that there is anything to report.

I walk down the corridor toward the sleeping quarters. All I want is a shower and my bed. Since it’s afternoon, the hallways are still empty. All runners have classes, and most riders are either on patrol or training.

I hear hurried steps behind me coming closer, and I glance over my shoulder but turn when I see who is coming after me. Ara.

I nearly topple over when she flings herself into my arms without warning. My arms catch her on instinct, and I let myself enjoy the feeling of having her in my arms for just a second.

“I missed you,” she breathes into my ear, and I groan. Is she trying to kill me here?

Even though it pains me, I put her back down gently and step back.

Just a few more days,I remind myself.

She looks confused, but she has to know this is madness, right?

“Sunshine, I—” I’m interrupted by approaching steps. Two riders from the eastern division round the corner.

Fuck.I take another step back and school my features into my usual mask.

“Thank you.” I nod. “Get back to class, Summer,” I tell her before I continue my way to my room, unbearably turned on and frustrated at the same time.

And the more I think about it, the angrier I get with Ara for doing something so reckless. What if the riders had come just a few seconds earlier? It’s no secret that the eastern division has her on their shit list. What if word had gotten back to Foley?

I’m too agitated to sleep now, so after the shower and a change of clothes, I drag my weary bones to the weight room in hopes of releasing some of my restless energy.

Ara

I’m hurrying backto sparring. Tate’s rejection is still a hollow burn in my chest. What the fuck was that? A marble statue would have shown more enthusiasm at seeing me.Maybe he changed his mind?

I push back into the hall only to find everyone still engaged in what they had been doing before. Calix is sparring with Mariel, and Arkwright is pointing out mistakes in a runner’s defense while the rest of our class is sparring, watching others do so or sitting at one of the benches waiting for their turn.

My eyes meet Livia’s, and she gives me a derisive grin, her eyes traveling from me to the door and back. But there is no way she knows where I have been.

I turn my back on her and make my way over to Mariel and Calix instead.

Geography passes in a blur, and thankfully, we are done with classes after that. I made my decision. I can’t go on like this. I need to know.

“Are you coming with us to the common room?” Mariel asks me, but I shake my head.

“I’ll see you later.” I turn and leave before anyone can ask me where I’m going or my nerves get the better of me.

I march over to the sleeping quarters and up the stairs past our floor until I reach the one our division’s leadership occupies. The corridor is empty. I stop in front of Tate’s door, taking a deep breath. I can still leave.

I need clarity.

I raise my hand and knock.

This is madness.

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