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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Nina Frost
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April 12 - April 15, 2025
My mother’s friends must wonder how two sisters could be so different. Leesa is strong, healthy, and plans to use her affinity for fire to defend Aclaris and become a dragonrider. Basically, she’s a badass. Meanwhile, I’m the weakling sister who suffers from frequent dizzy spells and possesses the magical ability of a potato. At least, that’s what everyone believes. Only Mother and I know about the daily remedy I take to suppress my magic. The concoction worked like a charm too…up until last week, when the king’s representative arrived at our gate to administer an unscheduled retest. The
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I never want to hurt anyone again.
After finger-combing my dark brown waves in front of the mirror, I weave the locks into a braid. My reflection shows a heart-shaped face. Big hazel eyes. A slightly upturned nose.
My mother requests massive amounts of food for her soirees, over half of which always remains untouched. After the initial grazing period, the guests ignore the delicacies in favor of mead and ale. The waste always bothered me, so I started telling the staff to remove most of the uneaten dishes early. They pack the food into a wagon and cart it just outside the castle grounds. Two guards help me slip out undetected. I pretend to turn in for the night, drive the food out to a man in the village who ensures it reaches the neediest, and return home without my mother ever suspecting. Simple as
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Mother stores our valuables in a locked room near her bedchamber that I periodically break into to liberate coins and help struggling families. The villagers need food. I need a hobby. It’s a win-win if you ask me.
“Hey. What’s going on?” She lifts her tear-streamed face. While her throat bobs, speech seems beyond her. I gesture toward the letter. “What does it say that’s got you so upset?” Mother swallows again and parts her trembling lips. As soon as she speaks, I want to shove the words back inside her mouth. “It’s a m…missive from Flighthaven. Your sister’s gone missing, and they expect you to take her place.”
Mother snaps out of the strange spell holding her captive. “Well, they can’t have you. There’s a chance they don’t know…a good chance…” “A chance they don’t know what?” She blinks. “What? Oh! Uh…I meant, know about your fire magic.” She lunges to her feet. “I’m going to write to the king at once, explaining our situation and begging for an exemption on the grounds that we already have one child missing in action. As long as Leesa is gone, you’re my sole heir. That alone should grant us leniency.” “Yes! That’s a great…wait, no. You can’t do that.”
“I know it’s not an ideal environment for me,”—understatement of the century—“but I have to go. If Leesa disappeared from Flighthaven, then I don’t care what that missive says. Someone must know something, and the only way I can find out is if I’m on the campus.” Mother presses her fingers to her lips. “But you can’t stay there. It’s dangerous. For you and for the other students if your magic suppressant fails.”
I wonder if King Xenon understands how much these changes in crop production impact Aclaris’s less fortunate citizens or if his luxurious palace in the capital city insulates him from such pedestrian concerns. A moment later, I chide myself. Our king must juggle so many responsibilities and urgent needs, a difficult task made even more challenging by the unrest between Aclaris, Tirene, and Kamor. Ridiculous of me to assume he doesn’t care about the hungry simply because assistance hasn’t reached our village yet.
During these last two days, the same questions have played over and over in my mind. What in the hells happened to my sister? Where is she? Did she run away? If so, why? Or did someone kidnap her? What if she’s…dead?
I can’t do this. I can’t stay here and— A hard, muscled body smacks into me, or maybe I smack into…him.
When I look up, my lungs seize. The man holding me is incredibly attractive. No, attractive is too tepid a word, as well as a massive understatement. Stunning. Breathtaking. Beautiful. Can a man be beautiful? I decide right here and now that yes, this man is downright gorgeous…and utterly dangerous.
His skin is a bronze hue, and shoulder-length black hair frames the bone structure of a face that could have been chiseled by an artist. High, proud cheekbones. Full, kissable lips. A strong, square jaw, featuring a thin scar along the jawline that enhances rather than detracts from the overall aesthetic.
“Watch where you’re going.” He steps back in a fluid motion and studies me, his full lips thinning into a harsh line. “I didn’t realize Flighthaven was adding a fashion class to the schedule.”
His gaze travels my body in a slow, insolent sweep, as if recording every single weakness and flaw. When he finishes, the slight curl of his upper lip confirms I’ve been judged and found wanting. “The next time I see you, you’d better be dressed appropriately. We don’t have time for tea parties here.”
Fire sparks in my veins, heating my blood and temporarily overriding my common sense. “It’s too bad about the tea parties,” I snap. “You could use a little sugar to sweeten your foul disposition.”
The slow grin spreading across those delectable lips holds all the warmth of a glacier. “Who am I? I’m your worst nightmare, Duchess. My job is to judge you, and I’ll do so whenever and however I see fit. You’d best pray my mood sweetens before I see you in training, because your. Ass. Is. Mine.”
“That’s Sterling Thorne. Your flight trainer.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Of course it is.” Sterling Thorne. Expert flyer. Refugee from a war-torn kingdom, though people debate which one. Worked his way up to join King Xenon’s guard and then saved the king from a rogue dragon attack. One of the best dragonriders around.
His glare tells me that’s a stupid question. “Do you have any previous experience on alicorns?” Sure do, if falling off one and almost dying at the age of four counts. “No.” My pulse finally starts to level out. “How much experience do you have riding horses?” I shuffle my feet. “A bit, but not much.”
Thorne glowers at me as if my mere existence offends him. “What the fuck kind of noble doesn’t have much experience riding a horse? You’d better hope you’re a fast learner.” With a heated glare, he rakes his fingers through his black hair, cursing when they snag on the leather cord tying it back. His other hand thrusts the reins at me. “This is Zephyr. Go ahead and mount him.”
“Today, Duchess.” Or maybe that’s my own irritation I’m sensing. My skin prickles, and I draw in a shaky breath, steeling my resolve. I take a tentative step forward. And then another. Strong arms snake around my waist and hoist me into the saddle. “My grandmother is faster than that.”
Olive clucks her tongue. “Thorne’s shitty moods aren’t Lark’s fault. He’s always griping about something we’ve done.” She taps the table close to me. “Just try to stay on his good side, and you’ll be fine.”
“And for the love of the gods, please don’t be one of those fledglings who bats her eyelashes and makes a fool of herself trying to lure him to her bed. I get secondhand embarrassment every damn time.” Theo winces. “I’ll never get over the expression of utter boredom on his face the last time someone tried.” Even the typically more stoic Nick flinches in agreement. “Yeah, that was painful to watch. I don’t know how she didn’t find a giant hole to crawl in after.”
Our teacher, Instructor Celeste Dawson, is a far cry from what I pictured. The weapons instruction in my head was a brawny man with bulging biceps and battle scars crisscrossing his face and body. Instructor Dawson is a beautiful woman. Tall, willowy, and blond, with nary a scar in sight.
A chill snakes into my lungs. I wrap my arms around my waist, fighting off the flame-fueled memories licking at the edges of my mind. Up until now, the alchemist’s medicine has worked. There’s no reason to think that will stop. I need to remain calm, though. Out-of-control emotions can trigger unpredictable effects on magic, and I’d rather not put the suppressant to the test.
Theo winks as he passes. “Glad you’re breaking up our sausage party, Axton. This is my chance to see how hot I can get you.” I groan. “If terrible puns like that are what I can look forward to, I may defect to join the earth elementals.” He gasps and clutches his chest. “You wound me.”
I get Theo’s comment about a boys’ club now. Apart from me, all the fire wielders appear to be men.
Resnick approaches. “The material’s treated with melted dragon fat to help fireproof it.” He just had to go and ruin the moment. I try my best not to form a visual. “That’s…kind of gross.” His mouth tips into a faint smile. “Perhaps, but necessary. Sometimes things can get a little wild during training.” Cocking his head, he taps a finger against his chin. “To clarify, you’re Fledgling Lark Axton, correct?” “Yes, sir.” “Good, good. I assumed as much, but once I took a good gander at you, I thought it best to confirm. You and your sister don’t resemble each other much.” His shoulders droop.
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“Why are you doing this? Aren’t we all supposed to be on the same side?” “We’re on the same side,” Milton gestures between him and Elijah, “but you’re probably a Tirenese lover like your traitor of a sister. She could have had a real man. Elijah tried, but she sneered at him like he was beneath her. Probably horny for a pair of wing—” Face blotching, Elijah punches Milton in the shoulder and hisses. “Shut up!” As the pieces start to click, the materializing picture confounds me. “Are you saying…is that the reason you have it in for me? Because you’re embarrassed my sister turned you down for
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“You called Leesa a Tirenese lover. Why? Did you see her with someone? Or did you just make it up to soothe your fragile ego? And none of this should matter, anyway. We’re all here for Aclaris. We should put aside our differences and work together.” Wrong thing to say, going off Elijah’s snarl. “I’ll never work with you, weakling.”
Milton swipes at the sparkles with no success. “Stop! It’s so cold, it’s burning my skin.” Instructor Thorne coated their hands with ice. Unperturbed by Milton’s reaction, Thorne tilts his head. His lazy smile brims with malice, revealing sharp teeth behind a thin veneer. “What, isn’t burning each other the point of this exercise?” “No, we’re still doing warm-ups! Not mock battles!” “Then why were you lobbing fireballs at Fledgling Axton when I walked up?” Neither Milton nor Elijah fall for Thorne’s silky-toned ruse. They both take a nervous step back.
His nostrils flare, and he grips my upper arms. “What are you trying to prove?” My smile falters. “What do you mean? I was trying to warm up like Resnick said, and then those two came and—” His grip tightens. “Not that. Why are you holding back your magic and wasting time trying to make them like you?” I gawk. He couldn’t possibly know about my magic, could he? To be on the safe side, I skirt the first question and focus on the second. “I wasn’t trying to make them like me. I was just…” His eyes narrow. “Just what?”
Even angry, he’s beautiful, and my body can’t decide if I’m scared, mad, turned on…or a weird combo of all three.
“I was just appealing to their common sense, since we’re on the same side. And besides, so what if I want them to like me. What’s so wrong about that?” He growls in response. I huff. “Now who needs to use their words?” “Not everyone is worth your time.” His pointed look indicates he’s including me in this category. “And if you don’t want people attacking you, quit proving them right and do something to stop them.” Of all the… “Thanks for pointing out the obvious. Don’t you think I’m trying?” “No.”
“I take back what I said about you earlier. I didn’t misjudge you at all. You’re every bit as terrible as I believed. Worse, even.” “You never said anything about misjudging me.” I pause. He might be right. “Well, I did in my head. But the point is, I was wrong. You really are a miserable fu…jerk.”
I brace for a tongue lashing. Instead, he nods. “Better.” I stare like he sprouted a second head. “Better? I just insulted you.” “Yes. And if you’re insulting someone, you’re not debasing yourself trying to gain approval.”
A commotion from the central arena spares me from another infuriating comment. In the midst of people shouting, someone yells for an instructor. With a reluctant glance in that direction, Thorne releases me. I tag along behind him as he stalks toward the disturbance.
Heart hammering, I find Olive in the crowd. “What in the hells was that?” Olive’s lips dip at the corners. “That’s what happens when you overdose on eyril.”
Elijah. Yesterday, he all but admitted he asked Leesa out and she turned him down. Based on the anger he displayed, it doesn’t seem farfetched to believe Leesa’s rejection spurred him to either hurt or, gods forbid, kill her. It’s the closest I have to a working theory so far, but tracking down proof seems impossible.
Logically, I know my fear is ridiculous. It’s not as if an alicorn ever attacked me. One just dropped me mid-flight. No big deal. Okay, so maybe it is a big deal. Especially since my father died. In a weird way, it tracks that my brain is wired to equate alicorns with danger.
Another gust of wind rustles my hair and gown, carrying a faint hint of animal fur, leather, and spice. My head spins, in what must be the world’s worst timing for a dizzy spell. A flapping noise breaks my misery. “What in the three hells do you think you’re doing?”
I don’t need to look to know who I’ll find hovering nearby. Instructor Thorne. Of course. Out of all the possible rescuers, why did it have to be him? “Don’t sneak up on me like that! Are you trying to kill me?” Several beats pass. “It doesn’t look like you need my assistance in that department. We’re directly below you now. Let go, and I’ll grab you and fly you down.” Despite my precarious situation, a storm brews behind my ribs. He sounds put out, the big jerk. Like this is all just a giant inconvenience for him.
“No, thank you. Sir.” “What do you mean, ‘no, thank you?’” I can almost hear him gritting his teeth. “I mean, no. Thank you. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather climb down.” “‘If it’s all the same to me,’ she says.” The bemused note in his voice has me wondering what kind of expression he’s wearing. His growl a moment later kills my curiosity. “Duchess, I don’t give a single fuck about what you’d rather do. As your instructor, I am ordering you to let go of the wall and get your ass on this alicorn. Now.”
“But how can you catch me? The alicorn’s wings—” “I’ll catch you.” His firm reply allows for no argument. Maybe I’m a fool, but something in me trusts his confidence. “Okay. I’m letting go.” My fingers revolt by tightening their grip. “I’m…not sure if I can.” He mutters under his breath. “You can. If you don’t, I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
The alicorn moves, and I flinch, lashing out with my hands to grasp the closest source of stability. Thorne grunts. “Here, hold onto the reins instead.” I shake my head. “I would, but I can’t see them.” “Why can’t you see them?” The alicorn swoops, the motion plucking a frightened yip from my throat. “Because my eyes are shut.” “Why are…never mind. Here, I’ll hand them to you. As much as I enjoy a woman squeezing my thighs, now isn’t the appropriate place or time.” Oh, gods. I manage to peel my eyes open for a quick peek and…yup. I’m clutching Instructor Thorne’s thighs like a starving
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Unconsciously, I lean back into Thorne’s warmth. My breaths begin to cycle at an alarming rate, so I try to focus on anything other than my current situation. With my eyes squeezed shut, I notice how snugly Thorne and I fit together. The hard strength of his chest pressing into my back. The firm grip of his thighs around mine. The delicious way he smells, of leather and soap and spice.
Thorne dismounts first. Once he’s off, he grabs me around the waist to help me dismount as well. I release a shuddering breath, relieved to be back on solid footing. The damp grass feels amazing under my bare feet. Safe. I’m tempted to drop to my knees and kiss the ground, but Thorne has enough reasons to sneer at me without adding another to the list. “What in the gods’ names are you wearing?” The strangled quality to his voice prompts me to open my eyes, where I find his gaze focused on my gown. My damp gown. Glancing down, I see the material clings to my breasts in a way that leaves little
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Our eyes meet, and my previous thoughts scatter like dust. The heat in his stare is unmistakable, making me wonder if he shares in my inconvenient lust. If he, too, noticed how good his body felt pressed up against mine. The air between us thickens, and his gaze dips to my mouth. Warmth unfurls in my belly. Tempting me. I wonder what would happen, if I leaned in and planted my lips— A dragon roars in the distance, jerking me back into reality. A world where we don’t kiss because Thorne is both my instructor and an enormous dick.
“You’re lucky I was out and saw Zephyr flying down from the tower. Otherwise, you might have been stuck up there all night. I’d ask why in the blistering hells you came here, but I know you didn’t have a choice.” He shakes his head. “A Flighthaven fledgling, afraid of alicorns.”
“What can I say? I like to be original.” For a heartbeat, the lip twitch approaches a smile. “Too bad your exemption wasn’t approved.” I wrinkle my brow. “What exemption? I didn’t request an exemption.” Not yet. My mumbled statement makes him still. “Could you repeat that?” “I said, I didn’t request an exemption.” He drags a hand down his jaw. “That’s what I thought you said, but I was sure I heard wrong.”
