Page 75 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Alaire focused on the ground. She knew every hole and crevice; she could smell the dank air. Her threadbare, prison-issued uniform did nothing to shield her from Grimstone Penitentiary’s damp chill.
“There’s nowhere for you to go, girl,” Captain Verran crooned. “I’ve been patient enough. I’m ready for some fun.”
She gripped the bars, tears stinging her eyes.
The electric shock of his favored weapon slammed through her, every nerve alight with agony. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain.
“Don’t make it worse for yourself. Just submit. It’ll be easier that way…”
But she would never submit. Never stop fighting.
The weapon’s buzz filled her ears, the pain ratcheting higher as he increased the power.
Alaire’s eyes snapped open. She gasped, hand flying to her chest. Sweat slicked the back of her neck as she scanned the darkness—her desk, the arched window, the canopied bed. Aeris Academy. Not Grimstone.It was just a nightmare.She had made it out.
Bile rose at the thought that Elodie hadn’t.
One day, now that she had power, she would revisit the worthless Captain Verran and return every moment of his cruelty—slowly.
She splashed water on her face before crawling back into bed, but dawn was a long way off, and sleep refused to come.
When she finally dragged herself into the bathroom, black circles smudged the skin beneath her eyes. She lingered in the bath longer than she should have—a luxury she refused to deny herself this morning.
For what she had planned, she needed to look pristine.
Dressed in her best gear, hair twisted into a fishtail braid that draped over one shoulder, her thoughts drifted to the prince.
Dawson Knox was a flurry of contradictions that frustrated her to no end. Hours ago, he’d accused her—twice—of knowing the truth all along, the suspicion needling her more than she’d ever admit.
You deserve to be here.
For a heartbeat, she’d seen past the mask he wore, the effortless detachment, to something conflicted beneath when he’d spoken about his father. Yet those aquamarine eyes, cold enough to burn, reminded her of exactly who she was dealing with. The thought of his insufferable half-smirk made her want to throttle him.
They were partners, nothing more. All Dawson cared about was that she stayed out of trouble and didn’t tarnish his reputation. She was an obligation, a responsibility he’d been forced to shoulder. Which was exactly why she refused to dwell on how his calloused fingers had felt achingly gentle when they steadied her, or how she’d wanted to lean into that touch and see what lay beneath all that careful restraint.
She was reaching for a touch of kohl eyeliner—a gift from Kaia—when a rapid flurry of knocks rattled her door.
“What do you want, Da?—”
Kaia stood outside, curls piled atop her head and tied with a bright gold bow, looking irritatingly well-rested. “Dawson, huh? We’ve been having late-night visitors, have we?” She waggled her brows.
Alaire blinked at her before stepping aside to let the door swing open. “Not exactly.”
“What do you mean? You left the party together and assumed he was the one knocking?”
Alaire glanced into the hallway before shutting the door and gesturing for Kaia to sit on the bed.
“What happened? You’re freaking me out!” Kaia’s hands balled into fists. “Did he hurt you? Because, by the gods, I will pummel him straight to the Black Sea, where all sorts of creatures can nibble slowly at his flesh.”
Alaire held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, Ky. No, he didn’t hurt me or take advantage of me. He helped me—after being a complete ass.”
“So what’s the problem? I don’t get it. You two look at each other like you’d combust with the tiniest spark.”
“First of all, ew.” Alaire had considered keeping the secret of her magic to herself, but since the day she’d met Kaia, she’d been loyal to the bone. It was time to let someone in. “Secondly, I produced a flicker of flame last night.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I have magic.” She shrugged, fighting the grin tugging at her mouth.
