Page 75 of Black Wing and Shadows
He smiled in that maddeningly calm way. “Maybe I don’t feel like saying goodnight yet.”
“Curfew is in two minutes.”
“Then we’d better take the fast way.” His eyes glinted, and before I could ask, the brush of his mind against mine sent a clear image—his hand on my arm, the air folding around us.
“You’re not serious—”
Too late. The world shimmered, and the crisp night air quickly shifted to the warm stillness of my room in the span of a heartbeat. The sudden quiet made it feel almost as if we had stolen it.
“One day you’re gonna get caught…”
“Doubt it… what can they actually do about it? Most of the professors know who I really am.”
Before I could come up with an argument, he took my hand and guided me toward the bed, sitting down and gently pulling me beside him. “I’m not here for anything else tonight,” he murmured, the seriousness in his voice making my chest ache. “Just want to hold you.”
Something in me melted at that—no teasing, no games—simply truth in his voice. I shifted until my body curled against him, his arm sliding around my waist, the steady thump of his heartbeat under my cheek.
“You make it very hard to forget you’re here,” I whispered.
“That’s the idea,” he said, and I felt the faintest smile against my hair.
Somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, sleep gave way to awareness.
The room was dim, with only the faintest hint of pre-dawn light spilling across the floorboards. My head was still on Zane’s chest, his breathing deep and steady, one arm wrapped around me as if he had no intention of letting go.
For a moment, I didn’t move. I simply listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, the soft rustle of the wind against the window. I wanted to stay right there, in that warmth, until the world forgot we existed. But a distant bell tolled once, low and hollow, reminding me that soon the college would be waking up.
“Zane,” I whispered, brushing my fingers lightly against his side. “You need to go.”
His arm tightened briefly, as if he could will me into silence. “Five more minutes,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“You said that five minutes ago,” I said, but the smile tugging at my lips probably ruined any sternness I was going for.
He cracked one eye open, gaze locking on mine. “Then I lied.”
Still, he moved—reluctantly—sitting up and running a hand through his hair. The air between us felt charged, full of things neither of us had the nerve to say out loud.
At the door, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Tonight?” he asked.
I swallowed, nodding once. “Tonight.”
He disappeared, the faint shimmer of his rove leaving the room colder and quieter. I counted the hours until curfew.
CHAPTER 28
Although it was Autumn break, all first-year students had to complete the Flier’s Rite of Passage on October First, and the day had finally come. The mountain cut before us was twenty feet wide, fifty feet tall, and layered with eight weeks of blood, sweat, and bruises. Instructor Quillet stood at the bottom, his voice echoing through the cold morning air, with a stopwatch in hand.
“Feather Wing, Electric Platoon, First Squad—Sadie, Akira, Micah, Lorenzo, Jackson, Auriella. You know the rules. Each of you goes when the cadet ahead hits the third level. Don’t waste my time.”
Sadie stepped forward first.
She hit the rope climb hard, body flowing smooth with each pull. By the time she reached the plank and its angled ropes, her long arms carried her through the gaps with ease. She launched over the first gap, stone grips catching fast, hardly slowing her momentum. The swinging logs shifted under her weight, but she moved quick, braid snapping as she drove through the final ramp. Her boots struck the bridge, and the stopwatch clicked.
Akira lunged forward with sharp precision. She didn’t waste motion—every climb and swing was intentional and measured. She wasn’t the fastest, but she made no mistakes. The logs just grazed her shoulder before she ducked through and made the final jump without hesitation.
Micah was motivated by grace, pulling himself up the rope as if it owed him coins. He faltered on the inclined ropes, losing some seconds, but compensated with a nearly flawless ladder climb. His landing on the rampcaused the plank to shake, yet he pushed through the last ropes to reach the bridge.
Lorenzo had speed but lacked balance—his first plank crossing swayed dangerously. By the stone grips, he gasped but pushed through. A swinging log slammed into his ribs and almost knocked him down, but his stubbornness carried him onto the bridge.
