Page 176 of Wings of Ash & Flame
The arrow, now inches away, hissed with heat. Solflara didn’t hesitate. She snatched it from the air with her talons, dissolving it to ash.
“Thank the gods,” Alaire muttered—just as a second arrow spiraled toward them.
Instinct took over. She yanked Solflara hard to the left, forgetting the tether. It snapped like a rubber band, force rippling through the formation like a shockwave. The bindings jerked violently, throwing everyone off balance.
Beck let out a pained screech. His mighty wings faltered mid-flight.
“Something’s wrong. We need to land,” Dawson ordered, not meeting her eyes.
Twin waves of guilt and shame washed over her. This was her fault—her moment of weakness had left them vulnerable.
They descended to a cracked patch of dry earth nestled against the cavern wall.
A deep gash marred Beck’s paw, blood dripping steadily. Concern tightened Dawson’s jaw as he knelt beside the griffin. “Easy, boy.”
Alaire dismounted, her chest heavy. The memories of Starfall that had paralyzed her felt insignificant now compared to the danger she’d put her friends in. Her instinct for self-preservation had harmed Beck, the guilt burning into her conscience like a brand—another reminder of failure she couldn’t escape.
Magma slithered across the floor. They couldn’t stay here long.
Before she could apologize, Caius erupted. “Are you insane?” he roared, eyes blazing. “Was it not crystal clear that we’re tethered and need to react accordingly?”
Alaire crossed her arms, nails biting into her sleeves to steady her shaking hands. “I had to dodge the arrow. Solflara destroyed the first, but I didn’t see the second coming. I should’ve called out the change in direction.”
Dawson knelt by Beck, jaw worked as he flexed Beck’s paw. The griffin screeched again, and Dawson soothed him with comforting strokes.
“I’m sorry.” The words fell flat. Inadequate. Beck’s pain cut deeper than Caius’s barbs ever could.
Dawson said nothing. Didn’t even acknowledge her.
“You’ve been leading us,” Caius spat. “Look what happened to Beck. You did that. Dawson should’ve taken the lead. If he had, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Alaire gripped her elbows. Beck’s pained whimper made her stomach twist with guilt.
“Cut it out.” Kaia gestured sharply. “We don’t have time for this. Beck’s the priority right now.”
Caius pressed on despite Kaia’s warning. “And what about what happened before the arrow?” His tone was full of disgust. “It was like you were in a trance—you froze. Dawson told me all about your past, Alaire. Everything you touch turns to ash. Well, I’m not going to let it be Dawson next.”
The words landed like blows. Maybe Caius was right—everything she touched turned to ruin.
Solflara surged protectively through the bond.
“I’d be doing us a favor if you let me melt the skin clean off his bones,” the phoenix growled. “The dirt beneath my claws is worth more than this male.”
“I can’t.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
Alaire fought to control her anger, but Caius had cut deep—exactly as he meant to.
“Spare me,” she snapped. “You think your little dossier gives you the right to judge me? Let me make something very clear, Caius Vale—you do not want me as an enemy.”
She stepped closer, gaze searing into him. She’d tried to take the high road, but enough was enough. “I would never let anything harm Dawson. Unlike you, sneaking off on your midnight errands like they won’t blow up in your face.”
Caius’s face contorted, fury rippling through the corded muscles of his neck.
She leaned forward, voice a snarl. “Mention my parents again, and I’ll make sure you understand what real suffering feels like.” They weren’t empty threats.
Kaia shoved between them. “Enough. Beck needs help—not this.”
