Page 108 of Black Wing and Shadows
The courtyard shifted again. Fear. Awe. Curiosity. And I knew this would change everything. I could feel her magic pulling me, begging me to touch her and use it.
The courtyard was a storm. The cadet writhed on the stone, his screams twisting through the air, blood smearing under his boots as he tried to drag himself upright. Auri stood above him, her dagger still gleaming, her shimmer still hard and clinging to her skin like armor forged from shadows themselves.
Some of the Riders around us leaned forward, eyes wide, hungry for the fight to continue. Others shifted uneasily, clearly calculating what it meant that the General’s daughter bled shadows and that I, a Drusearon, had just unleashed my wings during their celebration, on their domain.
The silence was razor-sharp. I stepped forward, wings flaring wider, letting the tips drag sparks against the stone walls.
“Enough!” I yelled again, even louder.
The word echoed, carried not just by sound but by weight. Authority I hadn’t yet been granted—but claimed at that moment. My gaze swept across the Riders, meeting eyes that dropped almost instantly.
“This ends here,” I said, low but steady, a command rather than a request. I planted myself between Auri and the rest of them, every feather humming with tension, daring anyone to move. “There will be no more blades, no more challenges, no more blood spilled in this courtyard tonight.”
The cadet on the ground coughed a laugh, bitter and cracked. “You think you can command us, Drusearon?” he spat.
I bent low, wings curving over Auri like a shield, my stare locking him in place. “No,” I said, voice sharp as steel. “But I can end you before you crawl another inch. And so can she.”
The courtyard went deathly still again, all eyes watching. Testing. Waiting. And I knew in that silence—I had to seize it. I had to make thembelieve.
Straightening, I folded my wings in, not all the way, but enough to signal I wasn’t about to strike. My tone shifted, steadier, carrying the cadence of command I’d heard from generals and even my father my entire life.
“You all saw it,” I said, sweeping my gaze across the Riders. “Strength was demonstrated, lines were drawn, and whether you liked it or not—respect was earned.”
No one argued. Not out loud.
The cadet on the ground groaned and tried to crawl away, while a few others finally rushed to help him. I stayed still and silent until he was out of sight. Then, slowly, the murmurs and music began to return, and the chaos eased into a tense quiet. But everything felt different now. Not after this moment, not after Auri’s shimmer revealed itself to me. Not after the courtyard went silent beneath my voice.
Her shimmer was fading, but the memory of how it had hardened against her will still haunted me. It had protected her—shielded her—but also unsettled her. I saw it in how her fingers trembled slightly around her dagger, even as she sheathed it, and in the stiffness of her shoulders as she forced herself to stand tall.
She wouldn’t let anyone else see it. But I did.
I stepped closer, folding my wings tight until they walled her off from the last curious stares. “Come on, we should go.” My voice left no room for debate. She glanced up, ready to argue, but the exhaustion in her eyes gave her away. She only nodded once.
I took her hand—not for show, not for defiance, but because she needed grounding. Together, we pushed through the shifting crowd. A few Riders stepped back when my wings brushed too close, but no one stopped us. Not now.
The academy's corridors felt empty and chilly after the courtyard, with our footsteps reverberating loudly in the silence. She walked beside me, chin raised, acting unfazed. I let her maintain the facade around others, but between us, the truth was clear—her heart pounded, her mind a jumble of emotions: fear, anger, disbelief, all colliding.
When we reached her chambers, I pushed the door open for her. She stepped inside, and I followed, closing it firmly behind us. The silence pressed down, thick and suffocating.
She turned, finally letting her shoulders slump, her guard fall. I caught her before she could even speak, hands framing her face.
“Rest, you’re safe now,” I whispered, even though both of us knew safety was a lie here. Still, I needed her to hear it.
Her eyes softened, the hardness in her shimmer dissolving completely. “For now,” she murmured.
In her chambers, I knew she was safe. I placed the ward myself, and I was damn good at boundary warding.
I stood outside her chambers long after the door clicked shut, palms still burning from her touch. I’d told her to rest, to take all the time she needed, but honestly, it was me who needed space. Space to breathe. Space to regain my control. Because every fiber of me wanted stay inside.
I wanted to pull her against me, press her into the bed, and bury the world outside. I wanted her warmth, her lips, her breath on my neck, her legs tangled with mine until neither of us knew where one ended and the other began.
But it wasn’t just the hunger for touch. Gods, if it were only that, I could manage it. It was the hunger born from seeing her fight. From watching her shimmer harden around her like armor, from the flash of her dagger, from the way she didn’t hesitate to bleed for her survival. She looked untouchable and wild, and it stirred something profound within me—something darker and more desperate. And that was what frightened me.
Because if I gave in to that craving now, staying in that room might make it hard to stop. I might not be gentle, and she was injured. Part of being branded meant, unless it was life or death, Riders shouldn’t get mended until forty-eight hours after, to ensure the scar remains on their chest.
So, I remained in the hallway, jaw clenched, struggling with myself just as she had struggled with that cadet. I reminded myself she needed rest. That she was still reeling from the fight, from the brand, from the weightof her father’s words. But the truth was—my restraint wasn’t for her. It was for me. Because loving Auri wasn’t just about wanting her, it was about craving her fire… and knowing one day, if I wasn’t careful, it might burn me alive.
I forced myself to walk away from her door before I gave in and took her in every way I wanted, knowing she wouldn’t stop me. Her restraint was worse than mine. My boots echoed down the stone corridor, each step dragging the ache in my chest along with me. If I wasn't able to hold her in my arms that night, then I needed another way to burn the fire out before it consumed me. I knew exactly where to go.
