Page 134 of Black Wing and Shadows
“Either way,” Lorenzo wheezed, clutching his chest, “at least we’ll die laughing.”
And for the first time in days, we all forgot about what was surrounding us, and were present in the moment. The bottle had just made another shaky lap around the circle when the gym door creaked open. We all froze, like kids caught with our hands in the grain barrel.
Second Lieutenant Renwick leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, expression somewhere between bored and predatory. His eyes swept over the bottle, over Lorenzo’s flushed face, over Micah lying starfish on the mat.
“Well,” he drawled. “If this isn’t the picture of discipline.”
My stomach plummeted. Oh shit. I wasn’t even sure if he could discipline us, since we weren’t technically under his chain of command. He could run and tell any of the professors or the generals, but instead of ratting us out, Renwick walked in, boots clicking against the floor.
He reached into his coat, pulled out a battered silver flask, and held it up with two fingers. “Trade?”
The silence broke all at once. Micah shot up like he’d been struck by lightning. “Gods bless the campus, you’re our favorite officer.”
Renwick smirked, kneeling and plucking our half-empty bottle from Lorenzo’s limp hand. He took a swig without flinching, then grimaced. “Gods, that tastes like varnish. Where’d you even find it?”
“Don’t ask,” Sadie said flatly, though her lips twitched.
Renwick poured a generous splash of his flask into the bottle. “Now this is fine whiskey. If you’re going to break the rules, at least don’t poison yourselves in the process.”
The smell hit immediately—warm, smoky, worlds better than the sharp burn from before. Lorenzo lifted it reverently. “Sir… you’re a saint.”
“Saints don’t drink with cadets,” Renwick replied dryly. “Luckily, I’m no saint.”
We laughed, too loud, too long, the kind of laughter that only came when fear had been riding you for too many days straight. Even Thora cracked a grin, and that alone felt like a minor miracle.
When the flask finally reached me, I took a cautious sip. The burn was still there, but it was smoother this time, heat rolling down my throat instead of clawing. “Better, but not great,” I admitted.
Renwick joined in like he was part of the group, lounging against the wall with his flask in hand, tossing out sharp quips that had us laughing louder than we should’ve. I took everything in around me, from Lorenzo trying to juggle the bottle. Alex pretended to duel a training dummy with a broom handle. Renwick’s gaze lingered on Thora, and she smirked back at him. I could see where that was going. I was that drunk female before.
By the time the bottle was empty, the two of them were sitting next to each other, making inappropriate jokes that made her cheeks pink and had him grinning like a wolf.
“Are we watching Thora flirt?” Sadie muttered under her breath.
“I didn’t think she knew how,” Akira whispered back.
The next thing I knew, we all staggered out into the hallway because, well, we were drunk. Whose idea was this anyway? Renwick was walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Thora, the two of them laughing undertheir breath like conspirators. Micah tripped over his own boots twice, Lorenzo sang something horribly off-key, and even Sadie was biting her knuckles to keep from cackling. Alex and Lili were walking arm and arm, balancing each other, something I had seen them drunkenly do more times than I can count. Zane was walking poised, like he was completely unfazed.
We must have looked like utter chaos tumbling through the stone corridors. Which is exactly when Corson stepped out from a stairwell, arms folded, his face like thunder.
“What in the hells is this?” His voice cracked like a whip.
We all froze. Even Renwick, who blinked once before straightening his coat. Like his rank didn’t supersede a Wing Commander.
Corson’s eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking from the empty bottle dangling from Lorenzo’s hand to Thora’s pink cheeks to Renwick himself. “Lieutenant. Cadets. Rooms. Now.”
No shouting. No punishments. Just that voice, sharp enough to slice us in half.
“Yes, sir,” Renwick said smoothly, tucking the flask back into his pocket, winking at Thora as Corson turned away.
She rolled her eyes—but the faint smile tugging at her lips gave her away. The moment Corson’s boots clicked out of earshot, the dam broke. We collapsed into each other, choking on giggles, trying to muffle them as we stumbled our separate ways down the hall.
“Best night,” Micah wheezed, clinging to Lorenzo’s shoulder for balance.
“Worst hangover incoming,” Sadie muttered, grinning, nonetheless.
“I am sure our fliers will make us all regret this while flying tomorrow,” Akira chimed in.
Thora grabbed Renwick and tugged him along, whispering something in his ear. Something told me they were about to enjoy themselves a little too much. I shook my head, my stomach aching from laughing too much. For a little while, at least, the worries of what was happening didn't bother me. It just felt like home. Zane grabbed my hand,and—
