Page 84 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Alaire stiffened, her gaze snapping toward the source. Caius leaned against the weapons rack, arms folded, a smirk on his lips. He cracked his knuckles—he looked riled up.
The nearby students fell silent, sensing the tension hanging in the air like a guillotine about to drop.
Of course, after their fight, she’d be the target of his ire.
“What’s your problem, Caius?” Alaire shot back. “Bored of picking on someone your own size? Or do you have nothing better to do than watch us novices train?”
“My problem?” His lips curled into a cold smile. “My problem is that you’re here at all. It’s ludicrous.”
“It’s ludicrous that I bonded a phoenix?” She shook her head. Kaia shifted uneasily beside her, but Alaire ignored her, stepping forward. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. So, what is it you want?” She tilted her head. “To keep glaring at me from the corner?”
“Let’s see if you can back up that mouth of yours,” Caius said, pushing off the wall. His challenge hung in the air. “Show me—and everyone else—you’re worthy of that phoenix.”
Alaire’s molars ground together. She could feel the curiosity and doubt of the other students pressing in. She wouldn’t give them—or Caius—the satisfaction of hesitation. Since arriving at Aeris Academy, her strength had returned with regular meals and consistent training. Even without magic, she stood a chance.
Caius was one of the academy’s top fighters, and everyone knew it. Alaire was underestimated.
Time to prove them wrong.
“If you’re so eager to lose, I’m happy to oblige,” she quipped, turning toward Professor Hawthorne with a nod. She was more than ready to wipe that smug smirk off his face.
“Alaire, Caius—to the mats.” He gestured toward the far corner. “Pick a weapon from the wall. First to get the other to yield or draw blood is the victor,” he instructed. “Bows and arrows aren’t permitted in hand-to-hand combat, Vale.”
While everyone was distracted by Caius’s choice of weapon, Alaire took a measured inhalation from her breathbindreliquary. Nothing was going to stop her from giving this fight everything she had.
“She shouldn’t have to fight a vet,” Kaia started. “It’s not?—”
“This is my class, Ms. Moore. It will be good for Ms. Vallorian to see some moves from a more seasoned student.”
The type of weapon someone wielded, Blake always said, often revealed how they fought. Caius chose a greatsword with a green stone set in its hilt—flashy, but offering no room for finesse, only pure wrath.
Alaire selected twin blades: sharp, lethal, cunning.
She swaggered to the mats. Caius was already there, pinning her with his glare. Around them, the other novices formed a tight ring. Like sharks, they smelled blood in the water. It was only a matter of whose it would be.
Caius, towering and broad, flashed a feral grin.
Alaire couldn’t help but picture the way he’d looked outside the dining hall.
Was this his way of getting back at Kaia?
She offered him a mocking curtsy.
“Begin,” Hawthorne announced.
“Shall we?” She figured he would take the first swipe, but maybe he needed some prodding.
Caius’s only response was a sneer as he lunged forward, greatsword swinging in a wide arc.
Or not.
Alaire sidestepped easily, her small frame spinning nimbly out of the sword’s path. The crowd murmured.
“You’ll have to be faster than that,” she taunted, flashing Caius a wicked smile.
He growled, his face flushing deep red, and attacked again—more measured this time as he anticipated her dodges. But something was off.
His swings were sloppy, lacking finesse. These weren’t the calculated strikes of a veteran; this was an aggressive male lashing out.
