Kingdom of Shadows and Wings (Dragons of Tirene, #1)

by Nina Frost

Breakfast’s only saving grace comes when Theo plops down beside me and whispers in my ear. “Tonight after dinner work for operation fuck with my roommate?” “Sounds perfect.” I glance at the door Thorne and Dawson disappeared through and frown. ‘Do you think Instructor Dawson is pretty?” Theo’s eyebrows shoot up to meet his hairline. “Pretty? No, I wouldn’t say she’s pretty.” His follow-up statement squashes my relief like a beetle beneath a boot. “Dawson is flat-out hot.” On second thought, I change my mind. Theo needs to go.

I tug on Olive’s sleeve. “Let’s hurry and get out of here.” Too slow. On the next step, water blasts me in the face, squirting into my eyes and temporarily blinding me. Olive’s squeal tells me someone hit her too. A gust of wind slams into our backs, and we both stumble. Our plates fly off our trays and shatter on the floor. A second, stronger gust hits Olive, pushing her to her knees. I crouch beside her and grab her hand. Blood drips from where a glass shard pierced her palm. “Are you okay?” She yanks her hand away. “I’m fine.” Her wobbling chin belies her words, and my hands curl into fists. Bastards. I straighten and whirl. “Who did this?” Plenty of people snicker and elbow each other, but no one claims responsibility. “Pretty cowardly, attacking from behind.”

When Helene walks in, I sit down on the bed. Within seconds, I’m up pacing again. As she gathers her shower supplies, she studies my erratic behavior through narrowed eyes. “What’s going on? Why are you doing that?” Suspicion thickens the air like fog. “Nothing. Just thinking about something. I think better when I’m moving.” Silence. On my next lap, I peek at her face. An unreadable visage clouds her eyes. “Leesa used to do that too. Not a lot at the beginning, but it seemed like she was pacing off and on all day that last week. She even woke me up at night a couple of times.”

Shifting the socks reveals a hair tie. My heart leaps into my throat. Wheezing, I work to suck air into my lungs. It’s not just any hair tie, but a braided purple and black one. Not having conducted a thorough examination of the most popular colors of hair ties, I can’t speak with certainty, but I’d bet a set of dragon-scale armor that the exact purple and black combination in my hand isn’t particularly common. I do know one person who wore them, though. Leesa. And the two hairs trapped within the braid match her dark blond tresses.

With a shaky breath, I return to the notebook. Elijah’s printing litters the second to the last page, and the content pulls a gasp from my lips. The top line reads, Where did L.A. go? The remaining lines serves as a written summary of every theory regarding Leesa’s disappearance to ever reach my ears. At the bottom, the line Hire an investigator is underlined. I gawk at the page, struggling to keep my mind from exploding over the evidence in front of my face. Elijah isn’t responsible for my sister’s disappearance. If he were, he wouldn’t need a list to figure out her current location.

The door Theo’s blocking rattles, and someone bangs against the wood on the opposite side. “Let me in or I swear, I’m going to pound your face into a pulp!” For a second, I freeze. Where do I go? Theo stabs his finger toward the opposite end of the hall. Stairs, he mouths.

Two ever-lights provide dim illumination, splashing an anemic glow over wood battered from the countless boots pounding it day in and day out. I don’t realize I’m studying each step until one near the top catches my eye. A sliver of darkness appears between the top and the body of the step, where the wood has warped and separated. What really makes my breathing quicken, however, is the tiny A carved into the corner near the wall. So faint and innocuous that no one would notice unless they knew what to look for. I do, though.

I crouch and wedge my fingers in to pry the gap open. With a little force, the wood creaks and gives, creating a wide enough space for me to reach inside. My hunting fingers find a folded piece of paper and a chain. I pull both out. I frown at the necklace. The delicate gold chain holds a tiny dragon pendant, neither of which I recognize. I unfold the paper, and my muscles seize. Leesa’s handwriting stares back at me.

Only a handful of Leesa’s words peppers the page, scrawled in an even messier script than usual. The words themselves send my pulse climbing. The first line reads, What’s wrong with the dragons? The following one says, Sickness? Sabotage? Eyril overdose? Below that, she wrote my name and underlined it twice, followed by File? Fire? My heart stutters as I read the next line. The date our father died precedes the words, Research Tirenese account of attack. Down the page, she writes, Prophecy? After that, only a single line remains. One that cramps my stomach. Keep Lark away from Flighthaven.

Instead of our usual routine, Thorne was waiting outside the stable with Zephyr when I arrived and all but flung me into the saddle before I could even greet him. He shakes his head. “The expedited trial date means you need to progress faster. You’ll fail if you can’t even get off the ground. Worse, you’re a danger to yourself and your flight unit.”

“Great pep talk. I feel so much better now.” “I’m not here to make you feel better. My job is to make you a competent flyer, and since I don’t like failing, I expect you to work your ass off until you reach that goal.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to quell both my fear and rising irritation. “Why are your eyes closed, Duchess?” I suck in a breath and open them. “Why not?” He presses his lips together in a thin line. “Just keep them open.” “Yes, sir!”

Using a sweet tone, Thorne issues a command to Zephyr. “Hover.” The alicorn flaps his wings and lifts into the air, floating several feet above the ground. My stomach plunges to my toes, and only pure stubbornness keeps me from diving off the alicorn’s back. As much as Thorne’s tactless feedback rubs me the wrong way, I don’t want to let him down. He takes note of my white-knuckled death grip on the reins. “So how is it that a noble-born woman doesn’t have much experience riding a horse? Are you scared of horses too?”

“No, not scared of horses. But my mother was overprotective. She didn’t like the idea of me riding away from the castle. I think the attack messed with her head, and I was a sickly child. She worried something would happen to me if I ventured out into the big wide world, so she kept me close.” “Even once you got older?” I sigh. “Even then. I still struggle with dizzy and weak spells.”

Though I look straight ahead, my cheek burns from the weight of his stare. “That sounds lonely.”

“It’s okay, you know. To love someone and still hate their choices and how they treat you. Family is complicated.”

Then Zephyr surges into the air, and my focus returns to the alicorn. At the end of our session, exhilarated laughter escapes me. I reach down and stroke Zephyr’s neck. “That was both terrifying and amazing.” Thorne’s gaze grows distant. “Wait until you fly.” Nervous energy zips down my spine, but I force myself to keep breathing. One step at a time.

“Instructor?” I tug on my braid, annoyed with myself for being anxious about thanking him. “Thank you for all your help. With training, I mean.” He studies me with an unreadable expression, and after a bit, I don’t think he’s going to answer me. “That’s my job, Duchess. Don’t make more of it than that.”

“A simple ‘you’re welcome’ would have worked.”

“Do you think you could give me a tour of the dragon aerie sometime soon?” He stiffens, emotions flitting across his face too quickly for me to comprehend them. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Whatever. I’ll ask Vice Commander Torno.” My conversation with her that first day leads me to believe she might be accommodating. “Have a nice day, sir.” I turn on my heel and trip over my feet. Before I hit the ground, he pulls me up. There’s an unspoken apology in his eyes, and a flicker of something else. Longing? Desire? Or am I imagining things that aren’t there? The air stills, and my stupid heart beats double-time. He swallows. His gaze dips to my mouth before his jaw hardens. “Lark⁠—” The sound of my given name on his tongue does funny things to my heart. Things I definitely should not be feeling. Embracing my inner coward, I turn and bolt.

As much as I hate to admit, maybe Thorne has a point. Maybe suppressing my magic is the wrong choice. I’m afraid of what could happen if my fire burns out of control, but if I learned to tame my elemental ability, I could better defend myself and those I care about. Mother was always adamant that I take the remedy, but she’s not here, and I can’t let her dictate every decision in my life.

You’re at a school where they teach you how to work with your magic!! Girl!

There’s more to the letter, so I continue reading. Also, I received a new book that I think might interest you. It’s from the library where Peaches was staying before she went on her extended vacation. You can pick it up when you next visit. Baffled, I scan the line again. Royce and I never exchange books. And who in the three hells is Peaches? A couple beats later, the name clicks. My hands tremble. Royce jokingly referred to Leesa as Peaches.

Thorne calls the class together to make an announcement. “I have to step away from training this afternoon, so Mortimer will be in charge. Mortimer, please run them through the drills we practiced last week.” When a visibly pleased Helene nods, Thorne shifts his attention to me. “Fledgling Axton. You’re to come with me.”

“What was that all about?” I whisper-yell as my shorter legs work to keep up with his long strides. Ignoring my question, he tugs on my arm. “Come on.” “But what about⁠—” “Just this once, could you follow orders without arguing or pestering me with questions?”

“Could you at least slow down a little?” I swear, the bastard speeds up. I open my mouth to verbally prod him yet again, snapping my lips shut when I catch a glimpse of his profile. A vein in his temple bulges, and for once, I have the good sense to bite my tongue and not piss him off more. Finally, he stops outside an enormous stone building that reaches high into the sky. My jaw falls open. The dragon aerie. He led us to the dragon aerie.

I take a deep breath. “What are we doing here?” Thorne regards me with an impenetrable expression. “You said you wanted to visit the dragons. We’re visiting the dragons.”

“Wow. Just like that, huh? So, if I said I wanted a bed made of gold and a handsome prince to whisk me away on a snowy white steed to a glittering palace, would you make that happen too?” His eyes narrow. “What use is a bed that’s too hard to sleep on? And you’d annoy the handsome prince so much, he’d dump your ass off his horse long before you ever made it to any palace.” “I’m guessing that’s a no.”

“Sorry, sheesh. Thank you for agreeing to show me the aerie, even if it’s making you even testier than usual. Can we go inside now?” “I’m not just showing you the aerie. You’re going to help me feed the dragons.”

I shiver. “What is this place?” “Cold storage. It’s where we keep animal carcasses for the dragons to eat.” For some reason, I had assumed that the dragons ate oats and hay like the alicorns. Not a high point for me, intelligence-wise. “How do you keep the temperature so low?” His lips curve up. “How do you think?” Magic. Of course. Probably his, given his ability to wield ice.

“Right. You brought me a blanket because the dragons don’t want me to be cold. You know, it’s okay if people discover that you can be nice sometimes.” He throws me a dark look. “Or not.”

“Poor things. You shouldn’t be here, should you? All caged up like prisoners in a dungeon. You’re meant to be out there, flying free.” As I murmur, Thorne observes me with an intensity that rivals the dragons’. “I take it you disagree with how the dragons are kept at Flighthaven.” “Yes. Vehemently. This can’t be healthy for them.” I can’t pull my gaze off the one closest to us. Those golden eyes trap me, hold me still.

“Do you agree with this?” Somehow, I know the answer before he even offers his curt reply. “No.” “Do…are all dragons kept like this?” He shakes his head. “When dragons bond with their riders, there’s no need for jailing them.” “So the rumors are true then. The dragons in Aclaris are no longer bonding.”

“What about in other kingdoms?” Thorne tenses before exhaling a forceful breath. “Not sure.” I tilt my head as he averts his gaze. “Why do you think⁠—” “Stop. We’re not here to discuss my theories on why the dragons are or aren’t bonding. We’re here to feed them, so let’s get started.”

“Do you need any help?” “No, stay back. I need to remove the restraints on her mouth so she can eat, and it’ll look bad on my record if I get a fledgling fried in the process.” “As always, your concern for my well-being warms my heart.” I frown. “What about you? How do you know she won’t fry you?” “I’m much too pretty and charming to fry. Isn’t that right, Farrow?” I snort. “Definitely not too humble, though.” “False modesty is a waste of time.”

“Dragons are smart, and there’s a reason for that saying, ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you.’”

“Did you know my sister Leesa?” Something flickers across Thorne’s face. “Of course. I was her instructor.” His gaze travels over my features. “You don’t resemble her. A stranger would never guess you’re related, much less siblings.” I shrug. “My mother said Leesa takes after her, while I look like my paternal grandmother.” His eyebrows inch up, but he says nothing. “Have you heard anything about Leesa and where she might have disappeared to?” “Guessing I’ve heard the same rumors that you have. It’s all speculation, unfortunately.” A knot forms in my throat. “What if she’s dead?”

“Look at me. There’s no reason to believe the worst.” I do as he asks, searching his face for reassurance. “How can you be so sure?” “She was well liked here for the most part. People respected her. And there were no signs of foul play.” To my utter shock, he pauses outside the cold room to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Embers spark to life at the innocent touch, the sight of his fingers on my skin zapping all my nerve endings awake. As if he experienced the same spark, Thorne jolts, dropping my hand like it stung him.

“Then what could have happened to her?” “A recruit anonymously reported her sneaking out one night to meet someone.” He shrugs. “Most likely, she left of her own accord.” No. Leesa isn’t a deserter. I don’t believe it. But maybe I should pray that I’m wrong. After all, deserting is better than dead. I swipe at the tears in my eyes. “Thanks for telling me what you do know.”

Thorne steps closer. “Are you all right?” Wincing, I continue to massage my temples in slow circles. “My head is killing me.” I sense Thorne studying my profile. “Did you take your eyril today?” The odd question stills my fingers. “Doesn’t everyone at Flighthaven?” The evasion rolls off my tongue. He lifts a shoulder. “At Flighthaven? Maybe. Other kingdoms? Not necessarily.”

Thorne has a gentle way with animals that puts them at ease. Not that it matters. Even if Thorne isn’t quite as horrible as I originally believed, he’s a distraction I can’t afford. Especially since I need to find a way to steal an alicorn right out from under his nose.

Outside, the vice-like grip on my skull weakens, taking most of the dizziness with it. Thorne’s observant eyes continue to bore into me. “Feeling better?” I nod. “Weird, right? Maybe damp air and the smell of dragon bodies just doesn’t agree with me.” “Has that triggered a headache or one of your dizzy spells before? Damp air and certain scents, I mean.” “Not sure. There often doesn’t seem to be much rhyme or reason to them.” Not exactly true. Since starting at Flighthaven, I’ve noticed a link between my weak spells and my attempts to either access or suppress my magic. Not like I can share that information, though. “Now that you mention it, I do seem to get headaches more often around animals. Maybe it’s an allergy or something.”

“Anyway, thank you for bringing me to visit the dragons. I know you didn’t want to, but I really appreciate it. It means a lot to me.” As I beam at him, I can almost see the walls go up. His mouth thins into a line, and his jaw tenses. “Don’t do that.” I frown. “Do what? Thank you?” “Paint me as something I’m not.”

“Like the kind of guy who does things out of the goodness of his heart. You’ll end up disappointed.”

Then why did you do it??

Despite our rocky beginning, I actually like him. At least, I do when he’s not going out of his way to act spiteful. With all the free time he’s devoted to my remedial training, his patience and care with animals, the way he protected me from harm when those two absolute dickbags attacked me during magic class, and the genuine pain in his eyes when he put the dragon out of its misery, how could my heart not soften? It pains me that he might not see what I see.

Once we return to our room, she motions for me to sit on her bed. “How do you feel about breaking the rules?” I settle on her mattress, considering her proposition. “How big of a rule are we talking?” She pulls a small bottle from beneath the mattress and holds it up. “Oh, nothing major.” In the dim light, I can’t tell what she’s holding. “Is that some kind of drug?” “No.” She snickers. For the first time this evening, she appears more upbeat. “It’s just nail polish. Against the rules, sure, since it’s not part of our military uniform. But I thought we could paint our toenails. No one will ever know.”

“Let’s do it.” While we paint our nails scarlet, we giggle and gossip, much like Leesa and I did back in our bedchambers as children. Gods, how I miss my sister. But I’m grateful for this time with Olive. These moments are so…normal, so reminiscent of home.

“No one at Flighthaven knows what I’m about to tell you, so please don’t repeat it.” “Of course not.” She makes a pained sound. “Flighthaven wasn’t a good fit for Gregory, and, well, he defected.” “Pardon my ignorance, but what exactly does that mean?” “He couldn’t stand it here, so he left. He went home.” She lowers her gaze. “Nothing my mother or father said could get him to come back.” “Not even the threat of the king taking away your family’s titles and lands?”

“Where’s your brother now?” “He’s…he’s dead.” Her face crumples. “He ended up in a ditch with his throat slashed. Thieves weren’t responsible. Gregory still had his ring on and a pocket full of coins. My parents are convinced the king sent royal guards to assassinate him.”

“I’m so sorry.” I remove the bottle of nail polish from Olive’s quivering hands and put the contraband away. “I don’t know what to say.” “He…he didn’t deserve that. Greg was…such a kind soul.”

Olive sniffles before swiping her tears away with her sleeve. “You know what this night calls for?” “What’s that?” “Distraction by way of booze. Lots and lots of booze.”