Moving each wing took enormous power. My back always killed after these sessions. Not just the muscles, but the bones too. It was like the ache went that deep, and my nerves were always fluttering around after so that the feathers twitched. It was like when your eye twitched of its own accord and wouldn’t stop—that level of irritation but it lasted a whole night.
The second I was skyborne, I had to admit, it felt good even if I was waiting on her to call me down to the ground. Six minutes felt like a lifetime of interval training with Satan as a personal trainer.
How can it be this hard? I thought on an internal groan.
Was it just me? Was I such a crappy hybrid that I’d failed before I even had a chance to begin?
Grunting, I forced myself to stop wallowing and urged myself higher where the flurries in the air were. They let you glide and meant you didn’t have to rely on sheer strength and power to get you going. It had taken Queen Bitch Jeanien a while to show me that. The tiny eddies were difficult to pick up on when you weren’t used to looking for them. So, when I finally caught something I could use for my own good, I released a heavy sigh and shifted my butt so that I was doing a figure eight around the training field.
In the distance, there was another training field where I saw Fae flying in a regular lesson. They did formations that I couldn’t imagine myself partaking in, got used to moving in units as one whole rather than single entities, and wielded swords against one another in the sky.
How did I know this?
Because it was more interesting watching them when I had to go around and around this field like I was on training wheels.
The clashes of the swords could be heard from this distance, and each and every time, they made me cringe. Not only because I knew, at some point, I’d have to wield one myself, but also because it was like being taken back to the Civil War or something. It was a reminder of just how archaic the race could be, and it was a race I was now a part of. One that, if I wasn’t careful, I’d be a part of forever.
Flunking had never been so important, and the irony was, my body was geared toward that feat. I could hardly fly, when Jeanien had handed me a sword that first time, my arm had buckled because the damn things were heavy. Plus, they never took into account that human borns didn’t have magic to use. It was a weird quirk of the anomalies. They got the wings but none of the abilities with magic.
Of course, I was a witch. I had magic, even if I was shit at casting, so I had to hide my abilities (or lack of) from everyone around me. They didn’t take that into consideration though. Didn’t give me any extra help.
If I’d needed further evidence that the Fae hated these anomalies in the human race, I was walking proof of it.
They sucked.
My background was fashion, and even I was taken aback by their harsh dealings with me. Like this shit with my private tutor sessions being over—what the Sol was that about? I could barely get into the sky and they wanted to put me into battle conditions with the Red Coats over on the other field?
Did the dicks actively want me to die?
“Time to land,” Jeanien bellowed.
I cringed at the summons. Sure, I wanted to land. I wanted it badly, but I hated it too. What went up must come down, and I’d yet to perfect the art of landing.
I sucked in a breath and instantly started coughing. The hard, round little body that went down into my airwaves had me cringing again. I didn’t even want to know what insect that had been.
Trying to think it was just extra protein and spluttering all the way, I glided down, trying to decelerate by splaying my wings instead of flapping them to create some drag.
Keeping an eye on Jeanien because I knew she’d want me to land close to her, I started to ruffle my wings, letting them slow me down even as I descended.
I wasn’t sure what went wrong, and I only realized I’d gotten it wrong when it was too late.
One second, I was twenty feet above the lawn and I was in control, the next I was four feet away and I’d shot past Jeanien—not my feet though. Just my body. My leather boots collided with her shoulder. They’d have hit her head if she hadn’t ducked out of the way.
Did that make the move a win or a loss?
Before I crash landed, I hitched my shoulders to protect my head, retracted my wings, and somersaulted to the ground.
The move had more grace than anything I’d just done, and when I rolled into a seated position, the first thing I saw was Daniel lin der Ruid standing in the hallway, watching me through the large, arched windows.
I had to admit, he gave a valiant effort in not laughing his ass off. His lips twitched a little, but as our eyes connected, they firmed. Instantly.
He tilted his head to the side and mouthed, “You okay?”
The question surprised me, because most of the students ignored me. I mostly felt invisible and wasn’t too upset about that as I wasn’t here to make friends. Still, Daniel’s overture had me blinking back tears.
Stupid, I knew. It was only a small gesture, but it felt oddly massive.
I’d been here three weeks and he was probably the first person to ask me that. My mom was still ignoring my calls, and because she reigned over the household, I knew there was no point in calling my brothers until she’d forgiven me my deceit.
Biting my bottom lip, I shot him a shaky smile and nodded.
His chin dropped in understanding, then his eyes drifted behind me. When they did, I winced and prepared myself for the consequences of my bad landing.
The term ‘hands-on’ had definitely been made for instructors like Jeanien. She ducked down, grabbed my arm and hauled me onto my feet. Last time, she’d done this by grabbing my wing—that had stung like a mutha.
“What the Sol were you thinking?” she raged at me, her perfect hair a little mussed now that she’d had to duck out of the way to avoid my boots.
With her ire focused at me, I forgot I had a tasty audience. “The same could be said for you if you think I’m ready for group classes,” I snapped back at her, starting to brush myself down. I had grass stains marring the black leather pants. They weren’t really visible, more like wet patches with a few streaks of dirt. Either way, they made the bad look a thousand times worse than it already was—if Jessica and co. could see me now, they’d have a real hoot.
“It is time,” she intoned stonily.
“Time for what? Me to hurt more people en masse?”
“You did it on purpose.”
“What? Almost collided with you?” I snorted. “Yeah, I really have the ability to aim as I fly.”
Her cheeks blanched. “I’ll speak with the Faculty Head about this.”
“Do.” I’d never met the Headmaster before but apparently Jeanien was keeping him well-informed of all my failings. “Maybe he’ll realize that it’s crazy to shove me in a group with people who actually know what they’re doing.”
Nostrils flaring as she fisted her hands at her sides, she gritted out, “Get out of my sight.”
Huffing, and ponytail whipping to the side as I stalked off the field, I headed for one of the two places I didn’t hate on the campus.
My rooms were small. A tiny bathroom, minute bedroom, and an even more minuscule Juliet balcony that I adored. On an evening, I liked to open the patio doors to it, sit on the floor and lean back, ankles crossed, as I stared out onto the sunset. The balcony was too small for a chair, but it didn’t matter at that moment. It was so pretty and I could actually be happy while I was seated there. I even got a kick out of seeing the fairies take off from their own balconies, heading off to parties and shit I wasn’t invited to.
The second place I didn’t hate was Gaia’s Temple. Its spire was the tallest of all the towers at the Academy as was usually the way in Fae and witch towns or holdings. Sol’s Temples tended to be underground, Gaia’s above.
It was a twist of fate that Sol, meaning sun, and Gaia, meaning Earth, had temples that ran the opposite to their name, but the religions, though
shared between the witch and Fae community, were under contention most of the time.
The Fae believed Sol and Gaia were night and day. Literally. They never came together, were separate entities. Neither representing good or bad, simply representing the endlessness of the universe. One powering the Earth, the other powering life itself. The two running in harmony as, without one, the other couldn’t exist, while never having the power to actually meet.
I knew from my classes that was a source of sorrow to a lot of Fae novelists who used the metaphor to craft tragic love stories.
For the witches, on the other hand, there was no tragedy. Sol and Gaia were a couple. They ruled together, lived together, created harmony together. The principles were the same, but it was just another display of the discord between our two races—we couldn’t even agree on our Gods even though most of the tenets were the same.
I didn’t think it was unusual that I aligned myself better with Gaia. Most women did. It was why I sought calm in her temple, and as I scurried in that direction, I was relieved to note that the hall where Daniel lin der Ruid had watched my fall from grace—literally—was empty now.
When I made my way into the chapel, I cast a glance around. Spying no one in there, I felt relief wash through me at being alone.
Living a lie, hiding as much as I was, and being without contact from my family was wearing on me. Never mind all the shit I was having to learn—even with my outright refusal to take an active part in most classes, there were some things I did just to stave off boredom—and the fact that I was working out more than ever before thanks to their torturous curriculum, had it so that I was constantly tired. Peopling, even on a minute level, was more than I was capable of at that moment.
Shoving my toe into my heel so I could wedge off first one boot then the other, I removed them both, dumped them on one of the stands by the door, then headed over to the atrium. The feel of the grass beneath my toes grounded me as I walked to my favorite spot.
With a deep inhalation, I seated myself on the ground beneath the cupula and flowed down so I was lying flat on my back.
Staring up at the domed ceiling that was painted with depictions of Gaia and Sol, I sought calm.
Shit, more than that, I sought the resolve not to scream.
My temper was starting to get the better of me, and no matter what I did, it was getting worse. I figured it was down to how exhausted I was, but having to hide was exacerbating things too.
Deciding to shut my brain down, I stared ahead of me. The painted dome was a delight to behold, and thanks to how the temples worked, it was something everyone enjoyed.
Our places of worship weren’t stilted and formal. There were no pews, no altars. Nothing like that. The floor was grass, and we lay or seated ourselves there come time for a rite. Temples weren’t a place to dread visiting. We only came when we needed to or at an equinox—that was how it rolled for witches, anyway. Even those who weren’t a part of the Conclave knew that.
Thus far, we hadn’t been made to attend any events at a temple. Or, at least, I hadn’t. Maybe that was something else a ‘human born’ Fae was denied access to.
Grunting at the thought as I stared at the yin and yang figure overhead, where Sol was tilted one way and Gaia the other, running in conjunction yet destined to never meet according to the Fae ideology, I eyed the pretty, starry background behind Gaia, ignoring the dazzling gold of Sol’s countenance.
Sol, to me, was brash and arrogant. In Gaia’s temple, he was always represented because she was fair. In his? Nope. There was never any sign of her.
Typical male.
Grunting, I closed my eyes and tried to seek calm again. It was harder than it ought to have been, but such was life. Eventually, of course, it worked. I found some peace and even started to drift off, but that was when I felt it.
It.
Or, to be more precise, him.
I twisted my head to the side and saw, a few feet away, somebody had joined me.
Though I recognized him from class, I didn’t greet him just as he hadn’t greeted me. I knew who he was, also knew the way the instructors fawned over him indicated that he was hot shit—either his family was famous, or they were just plain powerful.
Joseph vil der Luir was memorable for more than just the reverence cast on him, however. His eyes were like nothing I’d ever seen before.
Back in the day, I’d had a thing about Harlequin romances. The older the better. Even if the guys were jerks, I’d adored them. But one commonality had been a prevalence of heroines who’d had violet eyes.
I’d never seen violet eyes in my life before, but Joseph? He had them. They were like bright purple lights peering out into the world from a face that would sink a thousand ships.
He was the third guy I thought was hot on campus. The rest were pretty, but have you ever met guys who knew they were pretty? Yeah, that covered most of the male students here. They were sexy and they knew it. Dicks.
Joseph, Matthew, and Daniel were the only three who didn’t seem to buy into their press. That wasn’t to say I liked them, because I didn’t. I didn’t know them enough to like them or loathe them, but I was pretty good at reading people and what I read, I appreciated.
Daniel was trying. A little too hard. That, along with the ‘lir’ in his name, told me he had ambitions. He didn’t want to be in the administrative caste. He aspired to be more, and was working hard to attain that.
Matthew was difficult to read. He looked like he believed his shit didn’t stink, but just like Daniel, he was trying too. Whenever I came across him outside of class, he was studying, working out, striving for more, to be better. I knew he was from a warrior line so I figured he was trying to make sure he didn’t crash out and ruin the family’s reputation—just as an admin-caste Fae could be promoted to warrior caste, a warrior could be demoted to admin.
Joseph’s face was like stone. Beautiful stone, but he revealed very little in the grand scheme of things. With a jaw like granite, a wide brow that never scowled, and those violet eyes, it was like nothing touched him. Either he had terrible apathy, or he had the world’s greatest poker face.
What I liked about him was the fact he didn’t appreciate the ass-licking he got from the faculty. There was an inherent dislike that marred his calm expression, the slightest of twists to his lips, whenever an instructor was particularly effusive with him.
With my head turned away from the dome, I unashamedly studied him. His eyelids were down so I knew I was safe, and even if he saw me watching him, I didn’t particularly care. What was he going to do? Ignore me harder?
“Why are you in here?”
His silken voice jolted me because I hadn’t expected him to speak.
For a second, my lips moved up and down speechlessly as I tried to figure out how to answer. Then he rolled his head to the side, opened his eyes and pinned me with a stare.
The violet was cold. It wasn’t warm, didn’t have golden overtones. It was all silver. There was ice there, but even as I looked into those beautiful orbs, I sensed that wasn’t the real man.
A stupid, intuitive thought to be sure, but no one could be that cold and not be a sociopath… Although, maybe he was that too. How the Sol would I know?
“Because I was angry,” I eventually settled on.
“About?”
My nails dug into my palms as frustration seeped into me once more. I blew out a breath before explaining, “I have private tutor sessions.”
He nodded. “I’ve seen you. For flying. You fly badly.”
I blinked, taken aback by his honesty. “Ouch.”
He shrugged. “You think you fly well?”
“No. But you didn’t have to be so blunt,” I grumbled, rolling back to stare up at the dome. “Anyway, my instructor wants me to join group classes.”
“Even though you fly badly?” he replied.
“Yes,” I said with a hiss, moving my head back so I could glower at him. “Yes, even though I fly badly, she
wants me to join group classes.”
His eyes were narrowed now. “Why?”
“Apparently it’s standard here.”
“That’s a stupid standard.”
“Hence my irritation.” I blew out a breath. “Gaia was helping until you asked.”
“I was curious.”
“Why?”
“I’d have thought you were aligned with Sol.”
My brow furrowed at that. “Why would you think that?”
“You’re fiery.”
My brow furrowed harder at that. “So? I can be fiery and still seek peace.”
“Most people with a temper don’t want to. They say it’s Sol’s presence in their soul. They’re proud of it—”
“Well, I’m not. I’m latina. I was born in a household of fiery female tempers, and trust me, I don’t want to emulate my mother.” I grunted, and though I kind of wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, I didn’t. Instead, because I was a nosy witch, I asked, “Why are you here?”
“Because I have an infuriating father who is Sol-aligned and I needed to be away from everything that he represents.”
Surprised by that candid response, I could only blink again and say, “Oh.”
His eyelids drifted down as he turned his head back to a resting position. “Yes. Oh.”
And with that, he fell silent and we didn’t speak again. Not when he got to his feet and drifted outside, and not when I saw him a few hours later in the dining hall.
Those were the first and last words I spoke to Joseph vil der Luir for quite a while, and though I hadn’t particularly appreciated what he’d had to say, the oddest thing of all was that I’d have liked to talk to him again.
Stupid, right?
❖
As I stared at the field ahead of me, my wings fluttered in distress.
Thus far, Instructor Jeanien had been teaching me on my own, trying to get me up to scratch with the rest of my year. Of course, that was impossible but no one really seemed to get that. Her threat to send me to group lessons hadn’t borne fruit, but why should I, with twenty private tutor sessions under my belt, be able to fly as well as these students who’d been flying since they were fledglings?
The Ascended: The Eight Wings Collection Page 3