Page 2 of Wings of Ash & Flame
For a heartbeat, Alaire saw herself in his place—starving, desperate, broken. No one had stepped in to save a human orphan from punishment.
Alaire surveyed the space as she silently crept along the perimeter, praying the fae guard wouldn’t detect her with his advanced hearing.
“Eating food that isn’t yours is against the law, boy,” he sneered. “It’s stealing.”
Sadistic monster.
She slipped off her coat, swallowing down her dread. Alaire couldn’t turn her back on an injured child, regardless of the consequences.
Show no fear; have no mercy.
Alaire stepped out from the shadows. “Tsk, tsk.” She cocked her head. “I didn’t know defiling the Consortium’s laws was what they taught cadets these days.”
He swung his neck to see who had interrupted his fun, the whip still firmly grasped in his hand.
Alaire’s stomach clenched. She forced herself to maintain a relaxed posture despite her racing heart.
“Who do you think you are to question me,human?” He spat the last word like poison. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Oh, but you see, it does,” Alaire said sweetly. “When a man decides to punish someone for the heinous crime of eating, it becomes everyone’s concern.” She flicked her gaze up and down his pathetic, athletic, but lanky frame. He was obviously overcompensating for something. “Thinking may be a bit of a foreign concept to you. Unless… you’re not important enough to know the rules. Is that it? They don’t bother telling grunt guards about the Night of Remembrance protocol?”
He pivoted completely away from the boy.Good. Alaire needed to hold his attention for as long as it took the boy to recover. To get away.
“Your mistake was even thinking at all,” he said pompously. “Humans only live because the Consortium decrees it. I can do whatever I want to whoever I want, and no one would object otherwise.”
“Is that the lie you tell yourself to feel powerful?” Alaire took a step forward. Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed the boy inching his way to the mouth of the alley—not before snatching the half-eaten apple near his feet. All the while, her eyes never left the guard’s.
Alaire jabbed a finger into his chest. “You thought once you became a guard, all your problems would disappear. Females would flock to you in droves. But they all refuse you, don’t they? I’d bet solid Cielorian gold that it’s because of, um, the small artillery you’re carrying,” she crooned.
“Enough.” His face contorted, composure cracking. “You’ll regret that,” he said, stepping away from her.
I really need to learn when to shut up.
“I doubt it.” She shrugged nonchalantly, despite her heart hammering so hard it might burst from her chest. “I’ve regretted many things in my life, but standing up to assholes isn’t one of them.”
The boy had nearly reached the exit. He hesitated a moment before finally disappearing the way she came.
“I will not be mocked by the likes ofyou,” he spat. The air around him began to swirl.
Years of forced deference, combined with the superiority lacing his tone, cracked something loose within her.
“Yet, here we are.”
Without warning, the fae flicked the whip, and it cut a deadly arc toward her.
Any fear that surfaced was quickly smothered by her refusal to ever go backthere—to have to dothosethings. Never again. She would never be vulnerable and weak again.
Alaire dodged it—barely—feeling the whistle of wind against her skin. The guard was faster than she anticipated, but he lacked precision. He stood firm in the assurance of his power and wore his rage at the world like a badge on his chest, daring anyone to test him. She hoped this would make him clumsy.
Despite the roaring in her ears, she entrenched herself in the endorphins of the fight. Her ceaseless training had prepared her for scenarios just like this. Alaire forced her mind to clear and steadied her breath.
She feinted left, then dove right, closing the distance between them. Surprise flickered across his face. Humans usually fled; they rarely attacked. She seized his momentary confusion.
Alaire grabbed his wrist and twisted violently, forcing his fingers to drop the whip, then kicked him straight in the kneecap.
As he lay on the ground, Alaire reached for the dagger in her waistband and pressed the blade to his throat.
“Stay away from here,” she said, hovering. “And if I ever catch you hurting children again, I’ll gut you like a fish.”
