Page 9 of Black Wing and Shadows
ZANE
She was exactly as my aunt had drawn her—absolutely perfect. She stood there, staring at me, her hair a captivating blend of blonde and light brown, braided into two strands that fell down her back, stopping right above the small of her back. Her long hair, when loose, probably reached beyond her butt. Tiny points at the tips of her ears hinted at her Fae heritage, though they weren’t as sharply pointed as some others. Her vibrant, emerald-green eyes sparkled with life and curiosity. Her skin appeared fairer than mine, dotted with the perfect number of freckles on her face and arms. Her dark brown eyelashes were full, long, and striking. She looked just as I remembered from six years ago, only slightly taller.
Thank gods for my sharp Fae sight and keen hearing. I absorbed every single detail, as I had six years earlier. My Fae senses caught more than they should sometimes, taking more than it should sometimes.
My aunt and uncle met when they were twenty-five, and their love was both magical and lasting. They shared a connection that no one else understood. Sometimes I would visit their home and stay with them, and she would tell me that someday I would find my Anam Cara. She had drawn her for me once. My aunt was special, with a gift of precognition, but it only worked on our family line, and it came and went. Her gift wasn’t strong enough to be used for anything significant, but to me, she was extraordinary.
She was killed during an attack when I was thirteen. She had been like a mother to me, and I felt like a part of me broke that day. She and my uncle had tried to have children for years, but they never succeeded.
Fae children were special, and occasionally, families had only one child. My parents had seven children, which I believed must involve some kind of magic. Still, I thought they would have shared that magic with my Aunt Nemina—she truly deserved at least one child. She would have made a fantastic mother.
She left behind a journal I received after her passing, which described my Anam Cara and included her drawings. She told me that when I found her, I would feel an electric shock in my body. She urged me not to run from it but to accept it. I should treat her with respect, avoid being cruel, and love her unconditionally.
“She won’t be who you think she should be. You won’t find her in our villages. Love her anyway, let your dam break, and let her in. My dearest boy, she will be the greatest gift you will receive in life. Treat it as such. My vision shows that the two of you will be one of the most powerful couples to exist in the last century. You can’t fuck this up. Our world needs you two.”
She thought her ability was weak, and Gods, I envied her. The moment my ability manifested, I knew her simple ability was better than what I manifested. Every day I mourn her, wishing she could be here to guide me through all of this. Guide me with my ability. Guide me with my Anam Cara. Part of me broke the day I lost her. She told me to love her unconditionally, but it didn’t tell me how to handle any of this. Would she predict all of this?
CHAPTER 5
I showered fast that night—twenty of us had beaten the rest back to the barracks. Inside, the room pressed tight, cadets huddled shoulder to shoulder. A few slipped out, probably chasing the same water. I claimed a seat, the chatter swelling like we were all supposed to start bonding. Fantastic. I had no plans to get close. Basic ended with graduation, and after that we’d scatter into different branches. Why bother tying myself down?
“Going around clockwise, what’s everyone’s name and intended branch? I am Callum and… a Shapeshifter.”
“Beau, Infantry.” I chuckled, figures.
“Vivian, Sorcerer.” Fifth squad.
“William, shape shifter.” Fifth squad.
“Blaze.” He motioned his head to his back, where his wings popped out. “Drusearon.” Fifth squad.
“Ophelia, Healer.” Second squad.
“Asher, Infantry.” Second squad.
“Auriella, Rider,” I said.
“Selene, Historian.” Second squad.
“Finn, Healer.” Fifth squad.
“Thora, Rider.” Fifth Squad. I looked at her, locking eyes with her, and we smiled at each other.
They continued around the room, I heard a few more Infantry, another Drusearon and a couple of the others. Thora and I remained the only Riders in this small group. I often drifted into my thoughts, lost in memories. I recalled the earlier encounter when I saw that intense,attractive male, who left me eager to see him again. Who was he? He wore plain black attire with no visible rank insignia, suggesting he might be a cadet, possibly one of the few who didn’t leave for the summer.
Wearing all black didn’t give me any solid clues, as Riders, Shapeshifters, and Drusearons all wore black. Professors wore khaki pants with their branch color as their top, Infantry wore navy blue, Healers wore baby blue, Historians wore sage green, and Sorcerers wore dark purple. The real question was, why did he cause such a physical response when our eyes locked?
Ow.
I felt an elbow nudge my side by Selene, bringing me back to the conversation.
“Sorry, what?” I asked. Callum chuckled as he looked at me.
“I was asking what type of Rider you and Thora are planning to be. Thora said a griffin.”
“Oh, yes, um, a dragon. I hope to be a fourth-generation dragon Rider.”
“That makes sense, as you were unfazed by the dragons when they flew overhead and during the courses.”
