Page 101 of Wings of Destruction

My plans won’t form themselves unless I’m rested and I’ve been outrunning sleep and its demons for too long, trying to stay awake like I’m one step ahead of my feelings.

“I’m done,” I mutter.

A few hours of sleep will do me a world of good. Sniffing, I cross to the door, checking left and right, but the hallway is empty. The smart ones have found their beds already.

There’s only me.

Blood pulses in my ears. I snuff out the candle I’d chanced and head into the hall. Then stop short at the scraping echo of voices from nearby.

No, I’m not alone.

There are others awake and they’re close.

I press my spine against the wall to keep to the shadows.

My heart jackhammers into my throat and my fingers tighten on stone like I’ll somehow melt into it. There are people awake and close to the gym. Have they seen me?

Of all the cursed nights to light a candle⁠—

And for some reason, it pisses me off.

What are they doing out of their beds?

Sneaking around looking for booze, I’m willing to bet. The desire for drunkenness inspires even the smartest person to play the fool. I’d seen it too many times in the village, where the boys made a ruckus in the streets in the middle of the night after getting into Brian’s grain alcohol distillery.

Straining, I wait for the belch of drunken laughter to give them away.

But it never comes.

Only the scrape of a foot against stone and a hissed whisper like a remote drone of a wasp.

Instead of running in the opposite direction the way I should, I creep to the corner and pause. Darting my head out to catch a glimpse of whoever is stupid enough to join me in the wee hours of morning, I see nothing. Then⁠—

A flash of silver. The tail end of a long set of braids. And a familiar dark-haired man.

Kieran and his buddy. What’s her face? Ass-something.

I stop in my tracks and an invisible fist clenches around my neck.

I’ve never spoken to her but she’s always staring, and she carries herself like she’s swallowed a sword and an air of superiority. What in the blazing Ether are they doing out past midnight, sneaking around?

Go back.

My entire body tenses when Astrid and Kieran head to the glass door leading outside. Only an idiot would go into the forest at night with all the hunting predators.

Yet they do, the door swinging shut behind them.

And I deserve the title, too, because I dart after them.

My chest goes tight and my hand freezes on the black iron latch.

Outside, the moon’s crescent isn’t enough of a glow for me to see past the first few feet of the terrace. I push the door open to hear Astrid hiss out, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Kieran’s back is to me and if he responds, I can’t hear it. I duck low on the ground in case they happen to glance in my direction. Then a slight scuffle from the other side of the terrace drags my attention there and two more people sidle into view.

I stare, my hands curling into claws at my side, suspicion overwhelming as everything inside of me goes taut.

There are only two reasons to be out this late, skulking around corners and clinging to dark spaces. Outside of drunken revelry. And those four? They’re as sober as they come.