Page 47 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Alaire rested her chin on her palm, legs crossed. “So, when are you going to make your move?”
After several deep breaths to control her laughter, Kaia said, “I’m not.”
“What do you mean? Isn’t that why he’s been hanging around with us? He’s grown on me—except when he comments on my posture.”
“No clue.” Kaia shrugged. “I asked him if he wanted to head to class that day, and he’s hung around ever since. Not that I’m complaining, but I’m not looking for anything serious. A tangle in the sheets or two, nothing more.”
“Not with two trials coming up.” Without magic, distractions were something Alaire couldn’t afford.
“Precisely. But gods, he’s something shiny and fun to look at in the meantime. Plus, having a buffer against the doom-and-gloom duo doesn’t hurt,” Kaia said.
“Hells bells, yes.” Alaire looked over her shoulder. A flash of white hair caught her attention. Caius leaned casually in the corner, the scar across his throat making him look even more menacing. His nostrils flared as their eyes met, and she answered his disdain with a sweet, unbothered smile. Apparently, breathing the same air as him was a sacred offense. “Speaking of which, your ball and chain appears to be scoping us out…”
What was he even doing here?
“So how are things going being paired with Umbra incarnate number two?”
Kaia dragged a palm down her face. “Don’t start.”
Alaire’s grin widened. “He’s justsodreamy.” She clasped her hands under her chin and made smooching noises.
Kaia gagged.
“Not so easy being on the other side, is it? All is fair in hatred and partners.”
Kaia rolled her eyes. “Ignore him.”
Alaire gathered her hair and began redoing her braid, focusing her attention back on her friend. “What was your life like in Lyra? Do you miss it?”
Since that first day they’d met in the dormitories, Kaia had been by Alaire’s side—patient, loyal, everything Alaire had learned not to expect from anyone.
Alaire didn’t trust easily; years on the streets had taught her better than that. Especially with the fae. But Kaia had proven, over and over, that she was different. Every survival instinct told her to keep her distance, but Elodie and Blake had shown her some things were worth the risk—and some people were worthfighting for. So Alaire made the conscious decision not to push her away.
“I miss my sister,” Kaia replied, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Things with the rest of my family are complicated.” She twisted her fingers together, knuckles white.
Kaia didn’t elaborate, and Alaire didn’t push. She could tell there was more to it, but she wouldn’t force her to relive whatever pain lived beneath those words. When Kaia was ready, Alaire would hold space for whatever she needed.
“Can you write to her? Surely that must be allowed.”
“It is,” Kaia answered, her lip quivering ever so slightly, “but that wouldn’t change anything. She passed.”
The words splintered the tender scab she kept over her own pain. Alaire reached across the space between them and squeezed her hand. “There are no words to ease that grief,” she said softly. “But I am so deeply sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Kaia blinked away tears pooling at the corners of her lashes. She swallowed. “You’re right. There are no words. Only guilt and pain—and I had no problem drowning myself in mine.”
Alaire’s shoulders stiffened as she listened, the weight of Kaia’s words pressing heavily against her chest.
“But at some point, enough was enough,” Kaia continued, her voice steady despite the sorrow lingering in her gaze. “I wasn’t honoring myself or my sister’s memory. She wouldn’t want that for me. But all I wanted was blissful oblivion. When I clawed my way out, I vowed never to sink into that darkness again, no matter who or what tried to drag me there. I’d go kicking and screaming back into the light. It’s still there, always lingering, but every day I choose light and joy because that’s what she would’ve done.”
Guilt coiled around Alaire’s heart like the barbed wire in Grimstone. She hadn’t chosen love or joy—she’d burrowed intoher anger instead. It was the most tolerable of her demons, the one thing she could cling to when the world felt like too much. But the self-loathing that followed was a familiar foe, a dark shadow whispering poisonous nothings:You’re worthless.
Clenching her hands, she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, breath uneven. Was she not forged of the same mettle? However, the shadows in her heart were old friends.
“What about you?” Kaia’s question pulled her out of her haze.
Alaire shook her head as she sat up. “Just me,” she admitted, her voice hollow. “My parents died when I was young—in a fire that destroyed my childhood home. I’m all that’s left of them.”
She toyed with the edge of her sleeve, nails scraping the threads. “Good thing they aren’t here to see what I’ve done with my life. They’d only be disappointed. Violence is ingrained in my bones. I’m no better than a caged animal desperately seeking escape.”
