Page 9 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Lies. If theywereconnected, they wouldn’t be working in a prison. They should’ve known better than to divulge personal details in front of those who would use every scrap of information to their advantage.
Power coursed through the veins of most fae, but not all magic was created equal. Descendants of the original fae who bonded with Celestial Familiars wielded strength and power that could reshape entire kingdoms. Bonded fae were known as fliers, mastering the skies on their winged creatures. They established the royal court of each Elithian territory. Most revered the royal households and viewed them as directly connected to the gods. Many coveted a bond to the Celestial Familiars—and the status and power that came with it.
While the guards weren’t as aggressive as their captain, it didn’t stop them from exerting their power over inmates, making their displeasure toward humans obvious.
“Filthy animals,” the guards would snarl. “Scum.”
Even in Grimstone, humans were prey.
But even caged animals could learn to pick locks.
Grimstone housed the worst of Cielore, or so the Consortium claimed. Most of the human prisoners were guilty of the same crime: wanting more than scraps. She’d heard whispers before her arrest, in darkened alleys. Humans demanding change. Equality. The radical notion that they deserved the same rights as their pointed-eared overlords.
The fae had given them no opportunities, so they had no choice but to create their own.
Typically, the guards grew sloppy near the end of their shift, tired from the monotony of their mundane duties. It could prove to be an opportunity. How or when, she didn’t know.
She focused on finding a way out of this place.
Alaire imagined the captain’s face, the dawning realization of his oversight when, one day, he would come across an empty cell.
The thought brought a wicked smile to her face.
Night fell like a shroud over Grimstone. Between rotations, snores echoed down the halls.
“When you go, promise to take me with you.” Elodie’s whisper drifted through the bars.
She was more observant than Alaire gave her credit for. Elodie was nothing if not relentless.
“I don’t?—”
The words tasted bitter on her tongue for the lie they were. Getting out of Grimstone would be dangerous. But so was staying.
“You will,” she interrupted. “And when you do, I’m coming with you.”
Alaire huffed out a breath. She didn’t do this. Complications. Baggage. Alaire had learned to trust no one. Survival demanded it.
But Elodie… Elodie was different. Months of conversations in the dark had worn down her defenses.
If I leave her, she’ll die here.
Alaire knew Elodie’s kindness was as rare as a null. Somehow, since her arrival at Grimstone, what started as an ally had become a friendship cultivated through a wall of stone.
Hope sprouted even in the darkness.
Despite Alaire’s best efforts to keep her friendship with Elodie from him, Captain Verran had discovered their tie and scheduled them on alternating yard shifts, never allowing them the chance to meet.
Another one of his games.
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep. If you can’t keep up?—”
“Deal,” Elodie answered with certainty.
Alaire chewed her bottom lip. “Don’t mistake practicality for kindness.”
“Sure, Alaire. Whatever you say.” She chuckled under her breath.
Like Alaire thought—relentless.
