Page 57 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Wind kicked up the earth beneath her feet. “Magic is something else entirely.”
A vein bulged in his neck. “When he had his hands on you…” he growled, eyes wild. “I was going to fucking rip him apart.”
He leaned in until they were nose to nose. Fury swam in his gaze. He looked seconds away from ripping every blade of grass from its roots.
Dawson was all she could see. Her eyes flicked to his lips before snapping back up.
“Don’t presume to tell me what I’m capable of.” Anger simmered like hot coal beneath her skin. “I’ve survived more than you could imagine, seated on your high horse of nobility.”
“You take risks that aren’t bold—they’re reckless,” Dawson shot back.
“Reckless?” Alaire spat. “That’s rich coming from someone with access comfort and security most would trade their souls for.”
“Try thinking before you act. I assure you, it’s not a novel concept,” he said, eyes narrowing. “For better or worse, we’re stuck together. Partners are supposed to help each other.”
“And you’re going to help me? Yeah, right…” She scoffed. “You made it painfully clear from the moment I arrived that you despise the very air I breathe.”
“How many times will you carelessly charge into danger before it finally consumes you?” Dawson dragged a hand through his hair. She tried not to note how it had come loose, framing his face in a dark curtain. “Get your shit together, Alaire. If you don’t want my interference, stop putting yourself in positions that require it.”
“I don’t see why you even care. All I am to you is a disposable human,” Alaire retorted. “Sometimes you have to act first and think later. Trust your instincts—even if it means burning toashes to become something better, stronger, faster. Of all people, I mistakenly thought you’d understand that.”
Alaire’s words hung heavy between them. She drew in a shaky breath, chest heaving as a storm of anger and defiance built within her. Tingling spread through her fingers, palms itching with a sensation she’d never experienced—like a million tiny fireflies waking from slumber beneath her skin.
Energy stirred in her core and spread outward. It felt as if a crack had splintered open in some deep part of her, and what poured through was only a wisp of what lay within.
Without warning, the energy surged—fierce, wild, demanding release. Her fingers stretched before her, and a flicker of white-hot fire danced on her palm.
She stood frozen, shock giving way to fear. Since the night of the fire, she’d avoided open flames—they triggered her nightmares. But this felt different. A strange calm settled over her as she studied the swaying flame.
It was both searing and sublime. The spark sizzled on her skin without burning, leaving a trail of heat that sank deep into her muscles.
Her heart skipped. She hadmagic.
How was that even possible? She was human. Humans didn’t have magic.
The flame flickered and died like a star winking out in the night. A hollow ache bloomed in its place.
Her senses slowly returned, drawn back by the sharp inhale behind her. Alaire turned to find Dawson standing rigid, bearing witness to what they both knew was impossible.
His usual stoic mask had slipped, revealing unguarded astonishment. “You have magic,” he said, his voice laced with wonder—something she’d never heard from him before.
Dawson’s eyes, wide and searching, stayed fixed on her. And the way he looked at her in that moment somehow felt likemore.
Silence stretched between them.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away, and that’s what scared her most. What they’d uncovered tonight was bigger than either of them.
“Did you know?” Those aquamarine depths searched hers with startling earnestness.
“No.” She shook her head. It was the truth.
A small kernel of hope flickered to life. She had magic—she could survive, learn, participate in class, fulfill her bargain. Live on her own terms, never beholden to anyone again.
A screech pierced the sky. Gargantuan wings beat overhead. Soaring above the water that surrounded the southern edge of Eclat Castle was a griffin—the Celestial Familiar of House Aetheris.
Alaire’s eyes widened in awe as the creature descended with immeasurable grace. Its robust body was cloaked in black feathers that gleamed beneath the night sky, its curved beak almost smirking at her.
She’d heard about the celestials for years, worshipped as direct descendants of the gods.
