Page 46 of Black Wing and Shadows
“Don’t make me choose Alex.”
“You can’t be my best friend and my—”
“Please, Alex. I want to remain your best friend.”
“Choose. Fucking choose.”
“Then it’s her…”
“Wow… I… Just… Wow… I can’t believe you would choose some bitch—”
My fist connected with his eye socket. I didn’t realize I did it until it was over. My hand throbbed with pain. He had a cut on his eyebrow that bled profusely. He staggered backward, his other eye wide and fixed on me.
“We are done.”
“When you realize what a fucking idiot you are being and you are throwing a tantrum, let me know. You have been one of my greatest friends.”
I left him standing there without saying another word. At this point, it was useless. He was lashing out and acting like a child.
There wasn't time for games. Things were happening behind closed doors that I truly wanted to start understanding this year. Having Auri here made it more complicated. I didn’t want her to be caught in the middle, and it was a distraction I didn’t need this year. I wasn’t sure which professors were involved, but while I was at the infirmary and they held their secret meetings, I took note of who was present.
Thankfully, Professor Pascal was not part of those, which was another reason I believed they had something to do with whatever was happening. Auri’s mom’s letters mentioned some kind of experimentation and advised against trusting the General. Some of the professors in the group knew I was the duke’s son, which made it difficult to find out information.
CHAPTER 18
The rest of the weekend went smoothly. Thankfully, our Wing Commander didn’t decide to start early like the Drusearons did. They spent most of the day on the flight field, performing flight maneuvers and engaging in sparring. We all received our schedules for the week, which showed our mealtimes, lectures, and the period. We ate together as a wing. There were a total of seventy-nine in the Feather Wing. Twenty-six were first-years, twenty were second-years, sixteen were third-years, and seventeen were fourth-years.
Before leaving my chambers, I sheathed my favorite six daggers—one on each leg, one on each upper arm, and two at my sides under my arms, concealed by my tee. Our platoon sat together but remained near the other platoon to maintain wing cohesion. Naturally, all the first-years gathered in a tight group. The officers clustered nearby as well. Alpha Wing was assigned to Dining Facility Two, which was conveniently located next to our chambers, making it easy for the Riders to access.
We shared the dining facility with other wings as well. I passed someone with two silver dragon symbols, representing Dragon Wing, a second-year. Everyone seemed to be eating peacefully, and there didn’t appear to be anyone trying to attack others, as I had expected. Maybe everyone was feeling things out, and chaos would come later. There was a reason my dad told me the Rider’s branch was cutthroat, and Zane warned me to stay safe.
After breakfast, we headed to the outdoor stadium where cadets had already taken their seats. Our Squad Leader led us to a large section and explained that Riders sat there. Around seven sections were visible, based on how the seated cadets clustered. To our right, the Infantry groupoccupied a sizable section, which I believed was the largest. On the left, the Healers stood out with their bright, vividly colored baby blue uniforms. Beside them, the Drusearons wore sleek black attire. More than half of them had their wings tightly tucked in. Sitting on these chairs couldn’t be comfortable, but they offered ample space for all of us. My gaze lifted toward the top, where leadership usually sat, and I immediately recognized the familiar light eyes that made my heart flutter.
“Hey there, beautiful. I see I finally got your gaze.”
“Finally? And hey sexy.”I gave him a wink.
“From the moment you walked in, my eyes have been locked on to you.”
“That’s stalkerish don’t you think?”
“I guess when you put it that way.”
“If you keep staring, people are going to think you’re in love with me or plotting my death.”I looked away, not to draw attention to our stare.
“I really could not give a fuck about what anyone thinks. I will eye-fuck you every chance I can.”
I could feel the heat in my cheeks, realizing I was probably blushing a little. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and took a deep breath, trying to hide it so no one else would notice. The room kept filling up, and within the next thirty minutes, there were no more available seats. Some cadets were standing at the back and sitting on the stairs. Professor Melamora walked through the lower-level door and onto the stage in the middle.
“Attention, cadets,” she said, her voice projecting all throughout the classroom. All eyes fixed on her, the room went silent.
“Welcome, first-year cadets, and welcome back to all the others.” She told us.
“Hopefully, everyone has become familiar with each other over the past few days. You should all be familiar with our Military Manual and Code of Ethics, often referred to as the MCOE, as well as the Code of Ethics specific to your branch. I would like to reiterate a few key points that apply to all cadets. MCOE 3-14-1 states that there shall be no relationships between professors and cadets unless the relationship was previously establishedand confirmed. MCOE 2-12-1 states that no cadet may kill another cadet other than in sparring or in self-defense. Violating this is punishable by death. MCOE 1-13-2 states that all cadets, except those in leadership, must be in their personal chambers by twenty-two hundred hours. Any questions on those?”
“To clarify, if someone is in my squad and I want to call them for a challenge, can it be a fatal match?” a male sitting in the first-year area of the Shapeshifters asked.
“Yes.”
