Page 7 of Wings of Ash & Flame
“Scour it,” he ordered. “Our friend here has a rebellious streak that needs… addressing.”
The guards upended everything: flipped the thin mattress, emptied the water bucket, and kicked over the waste pail.
Alaire remained perfectly still, fists clenched at her sides.
“Nothing, sir,” one reported after they’d torn the place apart.
The guard—an asshole through and through—drilled his gaze into Alaire. She stared back, unflinching, refusing to give him an inch.
“Check her,” he ordered.
One of the guards who’d ransacked her room approached, roughly grabbing her arms while another patted her down with clinical efficiency.
“Clean,” one announced to the guard still at the threshold.
His brows drew together briefly before smoothing out again.
Alaire canted her head slightly.
“Enjoying the view?” he mocked, stepping into her cell. His weapon caught her attention. Now that he was closer, it seemed to come alive—wisps of wind wrapped around the baton like tiny funnel clouds.
She poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue. Alaire knew she shouldn’t antagonize him. But all she could think of was Elodie’s silence to her question.
“Not particularly,” Alaire said evenly. Her gaze swept over his immaculate uniform. An insignia stitched into both lapels set him apart. “Is that what you tell yourself every morning when you look in the mirror?”
The guard’s smirk faltered. Alaire wondered if he’d expected fear. Or submission. Maybe both.
“There are other ways to deal with troublemakers who can’t learn their place.”
Common sense should’ve made her bite her tongue, but restraint had never been her strong suit.
“And where would that be? Since standing by while children are beaten apparently isn’t it.”
The guards around them tensed, waiting.
Alaire had pushed him too far.
Then he laughed—a sound devoid of humor, far more terrifying than any of his threats.
“You’ll learn your place eventually. They all do.” He stepped back, gesturing for the guards to exit. “Put her in solitary. Three days should give her time to reconsider her attitude.”
“Yes, Captain Verran,” one of the guards replied.
Captain?Fuck.
As he sauntered away from her cell, he threw her one last glance. His eyes were mere slits as he said, “It’s always the humans who have the sassiest of mouths. I enjoy breaking them best. We’re far from done here.”
Alaire smiled saccharinely. Her pulse kicked up, fear climbing up her spine. But she didn’t let her mask crack. “I’m anxiously counting down the seconds.”
After they’d gone, silence stretched through the corridor.
“Are you alright?” Elodie asked.
“Fine,” Alaire responded automatically. Her lungs felt tight again. “Nothing I haven’t handled before.”
“Well, that’s one way to stay under the radar.” Elodie let out a whoosh of breath.
Alaire shook her head. “I’ve never been much good at doing what I’m told, especially by morons.”
