Page 59 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Magic. Her pulse hammered against her throat as she tried to ignore the hollow ache in her chest, the absence of something she hadn’t known she was missing. Humans didn’t—couldn’t—have magic. But the phantom heat still tingled across her fingertips, a reminder that everything she thought she knew about herself might be a lie.
Refusing to give Dawson another reason to see her as fragile, Alaire pushed the thought aside. Thinking about it wouldn’t help. Better to pretend her world hadn’t just fallen off its axis.
“So why is Beck here? And why are you in your leathers?” Alaire finally noticed, now that some of her rage had dissipated.
“Getting in some extra training.”
Alaire narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t buying that for one second.
“Or on official House Aetheris business. With Caius.” She crossed her arms. Caius had been in his leathers at the party too.
Dawson narrowed his eyes.
“Next time you guys want to be stealthy, I’d suggest one of you change out of your gear before showing up to a party—if you don’t want people putting things together.”
He exhaled heavily.
“So, are the rest of us allowed to go traversing off campus?” Alaire cast him a sidelong glance, already knowing the answer but savoring the chance to make him say it aloud.
“No,” he said curtly, his reply clipped and wrapped in that unwavering authority he wore like armor.
She arched a brow, lips curving into a smirk. “Let me guess—you need special prince powers for that.”
“Possibly. Being a prince does have its perks,” he drawled, flashing her a half-grin.
Was that a teasing tone? From Mr. Stoic himself? No way.
Ugh.Why did that somehow make him more handsome?
Her smirk wavered as her pulse ratcheted up. She leaned against Beck, curling her fingers into his feathers to anchor herself to something solid—something safe.
“Creatures are much better company than fae,” Alaire muttered. “Even if they can eat you whole.”
“Especially then,” Dawson said, a hint of warmth in his voice.
Briefly, their eyes locked. She told herself it was Beck’s steady breath beneath her hand keeping her rooted, not the way Dawson was looking at her.
“What does it feel like to fly?” The question had hovered at the tip of her tongue since she’d first seen Beck. Alaire hadn’t meant to ask it aloud, hadn’t meant to sound so curious. So… open.
“It’s everything,” Dawson replied, his voice alive with longing. “The world stretches out before you, endless andunbroken. The sky becomes a vast sea of blue. Wind rushing through your hair. Up there, you’re free. There’s nothing else like it. It’s the ultimate high.”
She stared at him, breath catching. In that moment, he wasn’t the rigid, insufferable prince she so easily despised. No, he was someone else entirely.
“It sounds wonderful,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from his face.
There was so much she didn’t know about the celestials, and it fascinated her. She’d peppered Kaia with questions before, but for some reason, she couldn’t shut herself up now.
Dawson rubbed a hand over his scruff, watching her as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.
“How does it work?”
“How does what work?” he asked, blinking slowly, brow furrowed.
“Your bond with a Celestial Familiar. I don’t know much about it,” she admitted. Kaia had told her about Hadrian, but never the specifics of the bond.
Dawson blew out a breath. “Are you familiar with the fableThe Legend of the Celestial Familiars?”
She shook her head.
