Page 106 of Ashen Wings

Before either of the men can scold my decision, my chair scrapes against the floor and I bolt for the door.

45

The midnight breeze barely cools the flush from my cheeks when I step into the back streets. My dagger clanks at my side with each step, a reminder that even in the peaceful quiet moonlight, I’m still taking a risk. I should be back in the tavern rather than exposing myself to any wandering eye or Smoke soldier, but right now, the anger nipping at my heels is too much. I need space from Jace and his gorgeous fucking face.

My mind knows he’s right. I’m safer the further apart we stay, but every other organ threatens to fail with the thought of running from him. Never in my life have I felt this sort of longing, this agonizing gravity toward another person. I draw in a breath, soothing the frantic pump in my chest. This fear doesn’t terrify me like it should. I’ve met death square in the face, and my instincts don’t tell me to run.

Gods, what is wrong with me?

I turn the corner and pass shopfronts and little homes. Sea glass chimes rustle in the coastal breeze, pricking the hair on my arms to high alert. My eyes sweep the street. I should go back inside, trudge up the stairs and lock the doors until morning, but the thought of another sleepless night—interrupted by the incessant creaks from Jace’s adjoining room—keeps me moving.

Past the next block, the crowded buildings diminish, leaving an open view to the horizon. Deep navy, washed in silver, laps against the line connecting the heavens to the earth. What vast nothing waits beyond our sight? Perhaps, Storm isn’t far enough from this life for me. When we’ve secured the rider, and the guardian rises again, maybe I’ll use my payout to purchase a ship and sail into the hazy darkness until I’m well beyond reach. Would that be far enough for King Ashborne?

I take in the fresh salty air and turn on my heels, boots clicking on the cobblestone reluctantly. My heart tremors in my throat when the inn comes back into sight. Back to battle, I don my armor and follow the curve of the street.

“A pretty little bitch shouldn’t stray too far into the night, Miss Lindwen.”

It takes less than a heartbeat to draw my blade and whirl around.

Blonde locks glint in the moonlight, paling them almost to my own color. A crimson cloak, marked with the Smoke insignia flashes in the shadow.

Samkiel.

“Don’t come any closer,” I growl, palming the dagger with a cold blooded grip. “I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Such a vicious bark without your midnight heir to protect you.” His lips spread into a vile grin.

“I don’t need protection. Did you forget how many of your men I slaughtered back in Storm?” Flashes of the carnage dance through me, staining my vision red. Standing before me is the man who killed Yaris. I take a breath, fighting the roar of wicked violence tainting my tongue.

He will die. Tonight.

“That’s why I brought reinforcements.” He snaps his fingers and a gathering crowd of Smoke soldiers appear, all donned in royal colors, all readying themselves for battle.

“Try me, fucker,” I hiss.

“Have you worked through the truth in that little brain of yours? I know, it’s hard to comprehend, but I hoped my note might clear things up.” He taps his temple, a mocking tone pitched in his words.

“And what truth is that?” My gaze jumps from soldier to soldier. There are ten, maybe twenty of these assholes? Not too bad, but with only a dagger I’m not sure I can hack my way through them all.

The inn is three blocks away, if I screamed would Jace and Isra hear me? Fuck, that back room is padded by storage spaces and kitchens. Besides, it’s on the opposite side. My scream would sound like a mere whistle in the breeze.

“So, you haven’t figured it out yet. Silver hair, purple eyes…” His knife points to each one of my features before homing in on my chest. “Are you truly just an animal in need of a cage, or is it denial, guardian rider?”

“I’m not the survivor you’re after, and even if I was, I’d never agree to whatever piss poor plan you’ve managed to wrung up. Trying to impress daddy dearest after he tossed you away like trash?”

Samkiel’s eyes flicker. Perfect, I found his pinch point.

“Yeah, I’ve learned some things about you, too, Samkiel Ashar. I know your histories. Quite the big boots to fill for a bastard son.”

His knuckles whiten around his blade. “You’re dead, stupid slut. Maybe I’ll take a taste of what’s between your thighs before I kill you. Is your cunt truly that perfect enough to tame Ashborne?”

“Oh, did I hit a nerve? Good. Next, I’m coming for your throat,” I spit.

Fortunately for me, these men are from Smoke. Even after weeks away from the faction, their combat tactics are second nature, but Samkiel’s stance suggests his training is out of military regulations. Regardless, I dig my heels into the cobblestone and raise my blade.

“Deal with her,” Samkiel commands. He sheathes his sword and sinks into the group of soldiers, now rushing toward me.

I don’t have time to track his position. A blade glints in my periphery, and I dodge before it can strike. Another comes from the opposite flank, jutting toward my rib. Then another at my knee.