Page 59 of Black Wing and Shadows
“Nice, your mother would be proud,” he said with a smile, before calling the next names up to the mat.
I guessed he knew my mom. I didn’t remember him, but it was natural that I wouldn’t recognize everyone my parents knew, especially since my mom, as a Healer, had helped many people over the years. Healers were usually well-liked. I looked down at the dagger in my thigh—here goes nothing. I took a deep breath, pulled it out on the exhale. It began bleeding again, so I tossed the dagger towards Nellie. I pressed my hand over the wound to stop the bleeding. Lili started walking toward me and grabbed a cloth from the shelf.
“Here, use this. You can go back to your chambers to clean up if you need.”
“I am fine.”
“You’re always fine.” She narrowed her eyes at me.
I just gave her a half smile. “I’ll stay with our platoon, as a Flight Guide should.” Then I gave her a genuine smile.
“Congratulations, by the way, you’ve earned it.” She patted my back and moved to another mat to watch one of our third-years start to spar.
I moved back to the other first-years, and being a Flight Guide meant I helped direct them and kept them on track. Our Squad Leader was skilled at keeping everyone focused, but sometimes the lectures involved only the first-years. It was essentially a prestigious title for someone excelling in courses and sparring. Usually, I ignored it and disliked being in the spotlight. I preferred to stay in the shadows, watching everyone. However, becoming a Flight Guide felt like a selfish choice. I wanted space of my own. As an only child, I had never shared a place. I also hoped to get closer to Zane. Gods, I was already acting like a clingy, needy person. It irritated Alex when I was clingy. He used his need for space as an excuse to hook up elsewhere. I wasn’t any better, often sleeping with newly graduated officers.
“Alexander Beverli calls Zane Braegon,” Professor Gile said.
My eyes shot to him and around the sparring gym. Damn. Alex called Zane out. Fuck.
They stepped into the circle, both of them unsheathed their daggers, throwing them to the side. Something cadets did when they agreed to a weaponless spar. The air between them felt heavier than the humid heat. Alex struck first—a fast jab, then a hook. Zane blocked, the thud of bone on bone echoing. They clashed hard, fists and elbows snapping, boots grinding against the packed floor.
But Alex’s eyes flicked toward me at the edge of the ring. His lip curled, and fire licked across his knuckles. Not a spark—flame. The gym gasped. Magic wasn’t supposed to touch these fights, though sometimes magic did flare under tempers.
“Keep it clean,” Gile said.
Zane didn’t back off. He lunged in close, ducking under Alex’s burning swing. His hand snapped to Alex’s wrist. The fire stuttered. The bright flare guttered like a torch in the rain, drawn into Zane’s grip. For a breath,orange light seared along Zane’s forearm, veins lit like molten lines beneath his skin. Then it vanished, leaving only Alex’s stunned face.
Alex staggered back, fists curling, breath rough. “What the fuck was that?”
“Control yourself,” Gile snapped, but his eyes narrowed on Zane. “Both of you.”
Alex came at him harder, fury twisting his face. He tackled Zane low, and both of them slammed onto the mat. They grappled, bodies twisting, grunts tearing from their throats as they fought for leverage. Alex tried to pin Zane’s shoulders, but Zane rolled, using his weight to reverse. Alex’s elbow caught his jaw—sharp crack, head snapping sideways. Zane spat blood, eyes flashing, but he didn’t break.
They writhed across the mat, fists half-landing, boots digging for purchase. Zane shoved free, grabbed Alex’s leg, and twisted. Alex snarled, lashing at him, but Zane coiled lower, locking Alex’s ankle under his arm and falling back. His hips jerked, wrenching the joint.
Alex’s cry split the room, raw and guttural. He clawed at the mat, face twisted in pain.
“Tap,” Zane growled, voice low but steady.
Alex spat a curse, refused. Zane twisted harder, the hold cinched tight. Alex tapped the mat three times. For one more breath, Zane held the lock, eyes boring into Alex’s—calm, unflinching. Then he released, shoving Alex’s leg aside. Alex curled in, clutching his ankle, breath coming ragged. The gym stayed silent, the only sound was their harsh breathing.
Zane stood slowly, jaw tight, blood at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t look at anyone. Not even me. For the Drusearons in the room, he was their Executive Officer, the second in command of their wing. Alex was in charge of his platoon that was in the room. The gym was still buzzing, but all I heard was the echo of Alex’s cry. My stomach twisted. Zane hadn’t just beaten him—he’d held him there, calm as stone, until Alex nearly broke.
Part of me wanted to flinch away from that steadiness, from the way his control looked colder than fire. Another part of me wanted to trust it, to lean into the one person who didn’t seem shaken by anything. And yet… both of them had been fighting over me. Just as Nellie had fought me over him. It seemed both of them were pulled into some jealous rage.
I pulled my eyes from Zane before he could look back. If I let myself get caught in that stare, I wasn’t sure if I’d find safety there—or lose another piece of myself.
“Harlyn Cowens calls Sadie Devins,” Professor Gile called out.
I jerked my head at Sadie. Maybe Zane and I weren’t the only ones making enemies out here.
“You still aren’t over this? I moved on a year ago,” Sadie told Harlyn. Clearly, there was much more to this story. Harlyn was an Infantry cadet, distinguished by her navy-blue uniform. They both stepped onto the mat and started feinting at each other, throwing fake punches. Harlyn took a step forward and threw a hard right at the same time, connecting with Sadie. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. I thought that rocked her brain a little bit. Sadie unsheathed a dagger and flicked it at Harlyn, hitting her on the right side of her chest, right below her collarbone. I knew that had to hurt. She winced, jerked the dagger out and threw it back. Sadie ducked and missed. As she popped back up, Harlyn had already drawn a dagger and flicked it across, hitting the left side of Sadie’s chest. Sadie gasped hard, reached for the dagger, with terror in her eyes. She dropped to her knees.
“Fight is done,” Gile shouted as he ran onto the mat. I was right behind him, heading to Sadie. I hoped it had missed her heart. Lili and Persephone rushed to the mat too, and all four of us gathered around her.
“That’s what you get, messing with other people’s partners,” Harlyn yelled.
“Get the fuck out,” Gile yelled at her. He usually didn’t look fazed when one of us went down.
