Page 221 of Wings of Ash & Flame
“I’ve made peace with it.” She shrugged. “I won’t go silently. If they want me, they’ll have one hell of a fight.”
Her fingers traced the velvet petal of a dahlia. Fragile, yet enduring. Strength wasn’t always something you could see.
They would need allies. Ways around the Consortium’s watchful eyes.
“If Caius is right, and Dexter’s working with the enemy, we can use it against him. But it also means anyone could be compromised. We can’t trust those outside our circle.”
Dawson nodded, jaw tightening. Worry passed over his face.
“Which means we need a plan. A meticulous one.”
“Meticulous?” His brow arched. “Since when have you done anything carefully, Alaire? Your style leans more toward act now, think later.”
“Icanbe logical when necessary.”
“Can’t wait to see this,” he shot back.
She rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, back to the brilliance of my plan.” She lifted her chin. “It doesn’t just help us—it helps people who’ve been overlooked for too long. This isn’t just about reclaiming Aurelia’s throne. It’s about setting things right. Ensuring no one else has to suffer.”
Dawson was quiet, then placed a hand on her shoulder, the touch lingering.
“We’re in this together. Whatever you need.” His gaze locked with hers, something breaking behind his eyes, hands flexing at his sides. “The burden isn’t yours alone anymore. You have me. For as long as it takes.” The promise hung between them.
Thatlook.
Gods, she loved that look. Like she could shatter mountains and remake the world if she wanted to.
All Dawson wanted was her happiness, and he would slice through shadows and flames to give it to her. He already had.
He was rare. And she coveted him more than anything else.
“I know,” she said, slipping a hand into the hidden pocket of her gown and pulling out the coin she’d kept since the night of the ball. She held it out. When Dawson’s fingertips brushed hers to take it, a spark jolted through her.
“What is this?” he asked, turning it slowly between his fingers before handing it back.
“That was given to me by the humans I protected from Umbra’s wraiths at the Celestial Cascade Ball. A token of gratitude.” She flipped the coin in her palm, the anchor catching the light. “But it was what they said that’s been bothering me.”
“What did they say?”
“Memory is our anchor.” Her thumb traced the coin’s edge. “It’s not a phrase I heard often in the human districts. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it’s a code.”
Dawson’s brows furrowed. “A code for what?”
“A resistance. Think about it—humans are forced to serve on the front lines, used as shields. They’d have some of the best intelligence about the vampires. And their numbers are vast. An asset we’ll need when the time comes.”
“You’re talking about reaching out to them.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m talking about offering them what they’ve always wanted—freedom. When I reclaim Aurelia’s throne, they’ll have a sanctuary. A place where they’re equals.”
Dawson gritted his teeth, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “That’s a dangerous risk. If anyone found out?—”
“They won’t.” Her voice was firm. “And even if they did, I have a plan.”
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” His rueful smile softened the words.
“I’ve been told once or twice,” she replied.
