Page 55 of Wings of Ash & Flame
He ignored her, leaning closer, his breath ghosting across her neck. She pushed against his chest again, but he didn’t budge. The lingering effects of Nebula’s Brew still clouded her senses, leaving her sluggish. Everyone was going to stand there and let this happen, because she was just a human, after all.
Ice-cold fear ran through her veins.
His smile became predatory. “You know, Dawson’s little edicts don’t scare me. He told us all to stay away, to stop threatening you.” Kole scoffed, eyes raking over her with open contempt. “What could you possibly offer Aeris Academy? You’re nothing but a warm body taking up space—better served on your knees doing what your kind does best.”
Before she could react, his hand locked around her waist like the manacles at Grimstone, dragging her toward one of the darker corners of the room.No, no, no.She twisted her body and dug her heels in, but her limbs felt like they were moving through molasses. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Kole chuckled, low and manic.
“You’re just a human. What could you possibly do to get away? Go on, fight back. It’s hot.” He caged her against the wall.
Her pulse hammered in her ears. She shoved her forearms against his chest, but it was useless. No one would help her. Alaire was alone, and Kole knew it.
Adrenaline surged, burning away the lingering haze of fae wine. Alaire went pliant in his arms, letting him think she’d given up—just enough to drop his guard while she planned her next move.
He was bigger and stronger—she needed something fast and simple. A kick to the groin, then, with his neck exposed, a hard jab to the larynx. Enough to get away. Enough to reach Kaia and Archer.
She ran through the plan three times in her head. As she swung her leg back, the temperature dropped, an unnatural silence rippling outward. A low current brushed her collarbone, slicing through the staccato of fear.
A torrent of wind slammed into Kole, forcing him to stumble back. Wisps of hair tore loose from her ponytail.
Tall and imposing, Dawson emerged from the shadows, his features carved in cold fury. The mask of indifference he always wore was gone, replaced by something dangerous and deadly. His blazing eyes locked on Kole.
“Let. Her. Go.” Dawson’s roar ripped through the atrium. Winds swirled violently, shaking leaves from pergolas and tearing flowers free in a rainstorm of petals.
Kole dropped her, stepping back with a sneer. “Dawson.” His tone dripped with mockery. “Come to defend the poor, weak human again?”
“Fuck off, Kole.” Dawson stepped between them, shielding her with his body as he gently reached for her.
“Are you hurt?” His voice softened, thumb brushing lightly over the pulse point at her neck. Despite the rage radiating from him, his hand was steady, careful.
Alaire rubbed her arm where Kole’s fingers had dug into her skin. “I’m fine, Dawson.” His eyes lingered on the angry red marks. “I can handle myself.”
“You shouldn’t ever have to handle something like that,” he murmured, even as violence simmered behind his eyes and tension coiled in his shoulders.
His gaze snapped back to Kole. “I have zero tolerance for men who can’t take no for an answer,” he said, voice low andmenacing. “She could’ve handled you herself, but I’m a man of my word.”
Alaire suddenly realized the music had stopped.
The party dissolved, replaced by an unfamiliar castle surrounding her—Kole’s illusion.
“You think because your mother is queen, you get to lord over us? Don’t get me started on who she?—”
Dawson struck before the insult could finish, fists flying like lightning—a swift jab followed by a brutal uppercut to Kole’s jaw.
The illusion shattered, the castle breaking apart like glass.
Kole staggered back, clutching his mouth. Alaire hoped a sizable bruise would soon mar those perfect, plastic features. “She’s nothing.” He spat the word, gesturing dismissively at her.
The tempest in Dawson’s eyes flared. His hand clenched, and Kole’s breath hitched, erupting into a litany of coughs as Dawson’s power pressed, heavy and unrelenting, against his chest. Finally, Dawson released him.
Kole gasped for air.
With a flick of his hand, Dawson sent a powerful gust at Kole. The force rattled nearby tables, glasses clinking as the wind slammed into Kole’s chest, lifting him off his feet and hurling him into the wall with a bone-rattlingthud. The impact reverberated through the room, silencing nearby chatter. Dawson turned slightly, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
“She’s worth ten of you.”
Kole’s only response was a whimper.
