Page 35 of Fae Trials

Mr. Whittaker approached from behind and cleared his throat. “Swimming with wings is a common technique for those who have sustained flying-related injuries, Your Highness.”

Prince Caulden didn’t acknowledge the teacher. He was too busy staring at my hands as I unbuttoned my shirt. His nostrils flared, and his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. I suppressed the urge to smirk. Beneath all that pomp and bluster and frigidness, this asshole was as hot and horny as the next guy.

“I knew it,” he said, still transfixed.

“Is this another half-baked theory, Your Highness?”

His gaze didn’t once rise from my fingers, which unfastened the button that would give him a glimpse of my cleavage. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “You are a creature of loose morals.”

“Why?” I tilted my head to the side. “For listening to your suggestions?”

“Nobody told you to take off your clothes, you lascivious, little minx,” he said in an urgent whisper.

I dropped my hands to my sides. “You’re right.”

“What?” His features fell.

“You didn’t tell me to take off my clothes.” I shook my head.

“But I thought you were going to swim,” he said with a disappointed whine in his voice.

Triumph flared through my chest, making it swell. All that talk about me being too fat was bullshit. Right now, Prince Caulden’s eyes had turned molten silver, and he looked ready to tear off my shirt if I didn’t continue stripping.

“It’s as you say, Your Highness,” I said, making sure to inject as much mockery in my voice. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I had loose morals, so I’ll wait until later to practice the water exercises.”

His features twisted into a rictus of rage. Perhaps it was because my smile became smug, or maybe it was because everyone had seen him disparage my figure one minute and lust for a sight of it the next. I didn’t care. He could take his nasty comments, freeze them into a popsicle and stick them up his tight ass.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, halfling!” he snarled.

Tilting my head to the side, I gave him a few innocent blinks. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I came to warn you about an impending attack but now, I’ll watch you suffer.” He spun around and stormed out of the room with his shoulders around his ears.

Helen sidled up to me and whispered, “You were amazing!”

“Yeah.” All traces of smugness vanished, replaced with the gnawing worry that I’d missed the opportunity to discover another assassination attempt. Perhaps Prince Caulden’s initial insults had been designed to make me leave the Royal Fae Academy in a huff and save me from a painful death.

A sigh heaved out from my lungs. Now, I’d have to leave my chances of survival up to fate.

Chapter 11

After the gymnasium door clicked shut behind Prince Caulden, Mr. Whittaker called the remedial class to attention and reminded us to practice flapping our wings. While I couldn’t get mine to obey my commands, about a quarter of my classmates stood around doing nothing but chatting. I guessed they were like Florensis and hadn’t yet expressed enough magic to summon wings.

Helen stood opposite me, frowning at my pathetic attempts to control my new appendages. “Do you want to try jumping off the diving board? That will force your wings to fly.”

I glanced at the white nets hanging over our heads and grimaced, my stomach still unsettled from that hair-raising fall from the headmistress’s tower. The nets were as thin as spider webs and didn’t look strong enough to trap a fruit fly.

“Maybe I’ll try that after I learn which muscles control the flapping motion,” I said.

She blew out a breath. “Mr. Whittaker means well, but he doesn’t know what it’s like to be born with wings.”

“What do you mean?”

“Flying isn’t something you learn in a classroom. It’s an instinct. Most fae newborns fly before they can walk because wings are part of our magic.” She swept her arm toward the high diving board. “Your wings would take over if you fell from a height.”

My throat dried, and I gulped several times. That might have been true if I had actually been born a half-blood, but considering the faerie who cursed me with these wings had blamed me for his death, I didn’t have much faith that they would flap to my rescue. The wretched things had glowed at the most inopportune moment and now made me the target of four angry princes and their fated mates.

“Flying is the least of my worries right now,” I said.