Page 90 of Black Wing and Shadows
Finally, Beau hooked Zane’s ankle, and they both went down hard, rolling. Zane came up faster, blade pressed to Beau’s throat. Beau’s palm hovered over the mat, his grin faint even as his chest heaved.
“Tap,” Zane said, voice low.
For a breath Beau hesitated, eyes meeting his evenly. Then, with a firm slap, he yielded.
The roar from the Drusearons was deafening. They clearly admired and respected him.
Zane stood, offered Beau a hand up. Beau took it without hesitation, their grips firm.
“You’re as good as they say,” he muttered.
“And you’re better than most,” Zane replied, almost grudgingly.
For once, there was no smirk, no gloating. Just respect between two fighters who knew the other wouldn’t break easy.
The cheers still rattled in my chest long after the matches ended. Sweat clung to my skin, the sting of Asmoth’s blade still sharp along my arm. I’d won, but the victory tasted strange—half bitter, half sweet.
Maybe I’d proved myself. Perhaps I’d only made the target on my back brighter.
The nightmare clung to me even now, whispering under the noise.His blood built this. Hers will finish it. My father’s voice, the professors’ warnings, Asmoth’s sneer—they all twisted together until I couldn’t tell which was worse. The enemies outside our gates, or the ones sitting beside me in class.
I looked at Zane, his hand still locked with Beau’s, respect sparking between them. It should have been reassuring, seeing strength recognize strength. Instead, unease coiled low in my stomach.
We were all training, fighting, bleeding for a war that felt closer every day. But deep down I couldn’t shake the thought that something elsewas coming. Something bigger than humans with fire-oil, bigger than our rivalries and grudges.
Stronger. Faster. Hungrier.
The words echoed in my bones. And I wasn’t sure if I was preparing for the war ahead—or being shaped into it.We spilled into the courtyard after sparring, sore and buzzing from the fights. There was a downtime before our next lectures started. Laughter bounced off the stone walls, the air thick with sweat, and the tang of bruised pride.
Micah started it, as always. “Alright, ability bets. Bonding’s coming. No one’s escaping this without a guess.”
Groans and protests rippled, but he grinned, leaning forward. “I’m calling wind manipulation, blowing everybody away.”
“Then we might all smell you.” Lorenzo wrinkled his nose. “Gods help us if that’s your gift.”
Laughter broke.
“Ice,” Lili cut in, flicking a shard across the ground that hissed and melted. “Already sorted.”
“Show-off,” Micah muttered.
“Fire,” Alex added, flames sparking along his knuckles before he clenched them out. “Runs in the family.”
Sadie clapped, smirking. “Finally admits it instead of pretending he’s humble.”
Jeremy leaned in, his grin quick and sly. “Speaking of family, Sadie, you should know—I’ve got strong lines. Shifter blood, oldest son, destined for something powerful. Better odds than Beverli at least.”
Sadie raised an eyebrow. “Is this supposed to impress me?”
Jeremy’s grin widened. “Worked on half the girls in Charlie Wing.”
“Too bad I’m not half the girls,” Sadie shot back, making the group howl.
Asmoth shoved Jeremy’s shoulder, laughing. “Gods, you’re pathetic.” His eyes cut to me, narrowing. “Guess your luck ran out, anyway. Braegon took the one you were eyeing.”
The group stilled for a beat. My pulse thumped hard against my ribs, heat rushing to my face before I could stop it.
Zane’s gaze flicked to him, sharp as a blade. “Watch your mouth.”
