Page 46 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Andhim.
Kaia had described the moment back to her in excruciating detail.
“You should’ve seen his face, Alaire,” she’d said, her voice a mix of teasing and awe. “When you hit the ground, his eyes—gods, his eyes. Like a storm broke inside him. He didn’t think, just… moved.”
Alaire clenched her jaw, fingers twitching at her sides. It didn’t matter how he’d looked at her. It didn’t matter how steady his arms had felt, like they could bear the weight of her fury and still hold her upright.
Her fingers dug into her arms, grounding herself. None of it erased the fact that by stepping in like she needed saving, he’d made her look weak.
Kaia had been wrong. The storm in his eyes was selfishness dressed as altruism—a trap she wasn’t about to fall into, no matter how her body reacted to him.
She shook her head, forcing the memory of his fingertips pressed into her skin to scatter, and focused on where she was.
Arms extended for balance, Alaire’s body became a finely tuned instrument of concentration. Heart vaulting into her throat, she coiled her muscles and sprang from the beam. For a breathless moment she was nothing but air, her world reduced to the freedom of weightlessness. She kept her body tucked, and when her feet touched the ground, a triumphant grin split her face.
She felt unbound and utterly unstoppable.
Alaire had taken a breath from her breathbind reliquary before class and now carried it everywhere, just in case.
“How can you do that without throwing up?” Kaia swung in lazy arcs on the rings.
“The same way you can swing your body like the arm of a clock on those things.”
Alaire took a long gulp of water before lying down, sweat cementing her to the mat.
Kaia’s feet landed with athud. Her auburn curls, tied into a bun, had loose tendrils plastered to her forehead.
“Now who’s the show-off?” Alaire crooned.
“The vaults are easy. I’m demonstrating skill, not showing off.”
“Sure, and the fact that you were staring at Archer the entire time had nothing to do with it?” Alaire so enjoyed taunting her.
Kaia’s cheeks went pink. “Nope,” she said, popping thepat the end.
“I’m sure Caius will be thrilled to hear your smoochy noises when Archer walks you to class.”
“Archer is in our class.”
“Even worse.”
“I hate you.” Kaia sighed and lay down next to her.
“The line between love and hate is easily blurred,” Alaire replied, grinning.
“You’re making that up.”
Alaire rolled over and gave Kaia a playful shove. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Why must we have two insufferable brutes as partners?”
“Because the gods like to look at us and laugh,” Alaire muttered.
“Those self-righteous bastards.” Kaia barked a laugh that echoed around the Crux.
Alaire checked to see how far Archer was before lowering her voice. “Do you not think it’s ironic that Archer hates archery?”
Kaia snorted so loudly she rolled over and hid her face in the mat, her entire body vibrating.
