Page 65 of Ignite the Infernos

Silence stretches between us, and I can’t decide if I want to snatch all my words back or leave them dangling in the air like they are now.

“We can do that, lass,” Ogdan assures me after a beat, his eyes glassy when they finally meet mine again.

I blink back the emotion that surges through me and offer him a small smile. “Okay, good. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, who wants to tell me how to build a Wing? Is there a manual I should read? Any birth charts to see if our moons and suns and belly buttons align? Someone give me a cheat sheet, because you’re going to be stuck with them just as much as I am.”

Strong fingers grab my chin and guide it gently to the right. Without a second thought, I give in to the possessive touch and find Aeson’s perfect face entirely too close to mine. His thumb slowly caresses the line of my jaw, and his nostrils flare like he’s scenting me.

“Are you done eating?” he asks.

I nod obediently.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” he presses, the question somewhere between a purr and a growl.

All at once, I picture myself crawling under the table, freeing his cock from his armor and feasting on something significantly larger than lunch. For a second, I’m almost convinced he can read my mind, because the black of his pupils overtakes the blue of his irises, and his thumb skates across the seam of my lips. I open for him, sucking the digit into my mouth. I circle it with my tongue once, and then I bite it . . . hard.

“Fuck!” Aeson yelps as he yanks his thumb from my mouth.

“That’s for accusing me of hacking the infirmary,” I growl. “And yes, thank you for asking, you can get me some workout clothes, and two—no, make it three slices of blueberry cheesecake.”

With that, I turn back to Ogdan. “Now, spill the Wing beans, please. The Flight Leaders will be done eating soon, and I’m sure there’s a lot of ground to cover.”

Chapter 29

Aeson

“I BEG YOUR PARDON?” THE male in front of me asks, his confused gaze locked on the fiery little Syphon who’s once again wrapped in one of my capes.

I could have just as easily brought her a blanket, but something about her nestled in my mantle, safe and warm, speaks to my soul in a way I don’t understand and don’t care to. I lean back against a wall and watch the exchange between my Bonded and the potential Wing member the same way I’ve watched all the others that came before. Like me, my Wing lines the edges of the room, waiting to see if this guy passes or fails Ever’s odd little test.

“Fight him,” Ever repeats to the bewildered male, who continues to stare at her.

Ever sits on the other side of the table with several small projectors scattered across the top. They display statistics, test results, and other background information she might find useful, but aside from an initial perusal, she hasn’t glanced at them since.

“Fight him?” the male queries again, looking from Ever to Sondar and back again.

“Yes,” she answers evenly, giving nothing away.

She looks regal as she waits patiently for the male to do something, and a phantom ache pulses in my thumb from where she bit me earlier. My affinity healed any actual damage right away, but my mind, or maybe the bond, wants me to feel the echo of it. And fuck, do I feel it, in my thumb, in my cock, in my balls.

If we were on better terms, I would have thrown Ever on the table and fucked that flash of defiance right out of her, but we’re not there . . . yet.

“Okay, I think I’ve seen enough,” Ever declares. “Thank you for your time. Ogdan will see you out and let you know if you’ve been selected for the special assignment.”

My second steps forward, and the male whirls around half panicked.

“But I just walked in,” he argues. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Exactly,” Ever counters.

Any further argument is stifled by the look Ogdan gives the drake as he begins to escort him away. He’ll run him through a couple of tests just to make him feel better, but we already know who we want for our other assignment, and he’s not on the list. We’re still waiting to see who Ever will choose for her Wing. Once she does, we’ll fill in any blanks we might have with our backup scroll of candidates.

“Julian Ectorius,” Gatlin announces, and Ever snorts.

A male strides into the room, the overhead lights making his olive-green armor look brighter than normal. I recognize the drake with his messy brown hair and notched nose. He was one of the Flight Leaders brought in to guard Ever on her Naming Day.

“I’m surprised you’re not wearing a toga, with a name like Julian Ectorius,” Ever notes.

“Laundry day,” the male quips dryly. “And I typically save it for my days off.”