Page 29

Chapter

Eighteen

TATE

I face Jared in weaponless combat, anticipating his next move. He’s damn fast, and since we know each other’s movements like our own, it’s always challenging. One moment of inattention can make all the difference.

We alternate in our attacks, the movements fluid like a dance. Punches meet blocks or air most of the time, so Jared’s grunt when I sneak past his defense is satisfying.

“Your first year needs help again,” Daeva chimes in, making me stop mid-swing.

“Summer?” I ask, while I keep my attention on the fist going for my chin, dodging it.

“She has guts.” Daeva sounds approving, and that has never happened before.

Commotion spreads from the doorway, and someone calls my name. I catch Jared’s arm before I search for the source.

It’s one of our first years calling me over—Calix Ilario. He’s hard to overlook and draws murmurs in his wake, with what Daeva just told me… I turn in his direction, releasing Jared.

“What the fuck did she do?” I ask Daeva the moment Ilario steps through the crowd surrounding us, carrying someone. I don’t need to signal for a break because Jared is already with me. We both reach him in a few quick steps.

I curse under my breath when my eyes land on Summer.

“Damn. Someone got you real good.” Jared whistles through his teeth.

“She jumped off a flying Strix,” Daeva says.

“You jumped off a Strix?” I step closer, taking in the mess that is Summer’s face, fighting the urge to check her over right here and now.

“Yeah and still fought me like a demon until I agreed to bring him to you instead of the healers,” Ilario says, gazing down at his friend like he still doubts that decision.

“I’m fine. Let me down, Calix.” Summer winces. The right side of her face is a swollen purple mess, her skin torn in places like she slid over something rough, and the split on her lip opens back up while she speaks.

He growls down at her. “I’m not setting you down, Gray. You weigh nothing, and you’ll only fall over again.” He sounds exasperated. “You didn’t even know who I was in the beginning. Called me a collection of names that weren’t mine and apologized for not having wings.”

Shit, that doesn’t sound good. I look her over, but her loose clothes hide everything but her face.

“I’ll take over from here.” I hold out my arms to take Summer. Ilario looks at me warily, hesitating before handing her over. Once again, I’m wondering how close they are.

“Get back to classes and just…keep it quiet, okay?” I order Ilario.

He nods. “Not sure there is a way to keep that quiet, but I’ll do my best.” His gaze wanders to Summer, who is now nestled in my arms and sends her a crooked smile. “No more jumping off flying Strixes, alright?” he admonishes and gives me another nod before he leaves.

“I can walk by myself.” Summer glares up at me, daring me to disagree, but the effect is spoiled by her battered face and the one eye that is nearly swollen shut by now.

She definitely took a hit against the head, and if Ilario is right and she’s disoriented and can’t stay upright, I better get to work.

“I’m sure you can. But I haven’t got all day,” I say and ignore her grumbling while I stride out of the room.

She jumped off a flying Strix? What the fuck?

Calix is right to admonish her, but he’s also right about something else: she’s ridiculously lightweight.

“What was that about jumping off Strixes?” I ask.

“He wouldn’t have been able to pull up otherwise.” She winces. Speaking clearly pains her, so I’ll hold off on the questions for now.

“ Can you get me the whole story?” I ask Daeva instead. If birds were involved, she could get me answers quicker than anyone else.

“Sure,” Daeva caws. “This is how it ended.” She sends me a memory. Summer on the back of a Strix, his movements labored, his feathers streaked with blood, going straight for the cliff right behind Telos. My breath catches in my throat. They are never going to pull up in time.

He wouldn’t have been able to pull up otherwise. That had been her words. I watch helplessly as she throws herself off the Strix, tumbles through the air, slams into the top of the city wall, and doesn’t move again. The memory stops. I pull in a stuttering breath.

Holy mists.

I look down at the woman in my arms to assure myself that she still lives.

The hallways to the living quarters are empty at this time of the day, and my feet carry me to my room without thinking. I open the door with my gift, and Summer stiffens in my arms.

Is she uncomfortable being alone with Jared and me? I chose privacy because of her lie about her identity, but maybe she isn’t okay with that? That reminds me that Jared isn’t in on her secret.

“How bad is it?” I look down at her and try to convey my other question with a look. Is it okay if Jared knows? She shakes her head. So I will have to find something for him to do. But if this is going to be something regular, I’ll fill him in, with or without her permission.

“My head hurts, I can’t move my right arm, and every time I try, it feels like someone is burying a knife in it. My ribs hurt when I breathe. My leg hurts too…”

“Can you get us a healing kit and something to clean Summer up a little? I can’t see shit like that,” I ask Jared. It isn’t the best excuse, but I can’t think of anything else at the moment. Jared simply nods and leaves.

I put her down on my bed and lock the door. “We don’t have much time, so strip, Summer.”

“I would be happy to oblige, considering I’m sitting on your bed and all, but I think I need a hand.” I fight a smirk at her sass, relief coursing through me. Her attitude must mean she already feels better. The other part—well, it’s hard not to let that affect me.

Maneuvering her shirt, I help Summer get out of it, freeing her bad arm last.

There is purple discoloration and swelling all over the right side of her body.

Her right shoulder looks asymmetric compared to the other side and is probably dislocated. I go over her collarbones to rule out any breaks and encounter a bump on the left side, but she doesn’t flinch or make a sound. “Does that hurt?” I ask.

“No, that’s old.” Her voice sounds raspy. The implication hits me a second later, and I still. This broken bone healed on its own. She must have been in pain for weeks. Who lets anyone go through that when healers are so easy to come by?

The urge to deal out pain to anyone who let her suffer like that rushes through me.

She avoids my gaze, and I swallow the questions lying on my tongue since I have the feeling she would rather walk out than answer them. But I will get to the bottom of this once she’s no longer in pain.

I assess her ribs and am relieved to find them intact. Her skin is so soft I could skim over it for hours, but I resist the temptation and try even harder to ignore the goose bumps popping up all over her skin. She’s so damn responsive to my touch.

There are no signs of damage to her spine either, and I’m relieved. I can handle bruises, cuts, and even tears and simple breaks. But for more complicated things, I would have to get her to a healer. Given Ilario’s words and her reaction, I’m not sure that would go over well.

Seeing the extent of her bruising makes me grit my teeth. My emotional response to seeing her hurt unnerves me.

I notice scars, too many of them. Some even show signs of stitching.

I swallow. No wonder she’s wary of letting anyone look at her wounds. Who would do something so savage?

I’m careful while assessing her shoulder, but she inhales sharply as soon as I touch it, and I find my suspicion confirmed.

“I have to pop your shoulder back in,” I say, resenting that I have to hurt her again.

“Just do it.” She sounds resigned.

“Can you lie down on your belly, the right arm over the edge of the bed?” I help her out of her boots and position her, using one of my shirts to cushion her shoulder.

“Now relax.” She seems a lot more at ease around me than last time.

Maybe she’s starting to trust me. “Just like that.” Slowly, I pull her arm down.

My gaze catches on a dark line in the crook of her arm. That wasn’t there last time, was it?

Her shoulder pops back in as soon as I move the arm slightly forward. Her breath hitches, and she sighs in relief.

“Better now?” I ask.

She nods.

“Let’s get you on your back.” I guide her arm while she turns, draping it across her belly. My gaze is drawn to the dark marking again because that is what it is. She sees me noticing but evades my gaze. “There are a few things we have to talk about,” I say. My eyes lock on her.

“No, we don’t,” she answers, her jaw set.

“Yes, we do,” I disagree. When she doesn’t react, I let it slide—for now. “Let me see your face so we can start with the healing.”

She closes her eyes, nodding to let me know she’s ready. Her lashes are dark against her pale skin, and she looks softer and vulnerable. I skim my thumb over her cheek and brush some loose strands out of her face.

“Do you trust me?” The words are out before I even realize I’m going to ask that. Her eyes fly open, the wariness loud and clear. She doesn’t, and it irks me. I want her trust.

I shove down my ridiculous feelings. She’s not mine. I have to remember that.

When I stay quiet, her eyes flutter closed again.

She doesn’t make a sound when I use my magic to straighten out a fracture in her cheekbone, but twin tears streak down her battered face, vanishing in her hair, slaying me.

I avert my gaze before I give in and wipe them away.

What is it with this girl?

I place my hands gently on the bare skin of her shoulders and let my magic flow.

Just like last time, she stiffens. But she doesn’t jerk away this time, so I count that as progress.

I pour in even more magic, unbearably aware of my fingers on her bare skin.

My eyes roam over her face, looking for change.

Her breathing becomes easier, her body relaxes, and the bruises fade. The cut on her lip closes, and the swelling goes down until only the dried blood remains. Summer exhales slowly, her eyes fluttering open when I lift my hands.

Sweat beads her brow, and she fights a yawn. The hand resting over her chest trembles, but she hides it when she sees me noticing.

Our eyes lock. Little flecks of gold hide amid the blue and green, like sunlight playing on the ocean’s depths. I could drown in those eyes. Her pupils widen. Awareness gathers between us like a bowstring snapping taut.

The jiggling of the door handle, followed by a knock, snaps me out of my trance. Jared is back.

“Just a minute.” My voice sounds husky, and Ara shoots off the bed like we have been caught red-handed. I grab the shirt next to me and pull it over her head.

Only realizing it’s mine when it falls to her thighs. It’s the one I used to cushion her shoulder.She winces while shoving her arms in the sleeves, seemingly not caring that it’s the wrong shirt. She avoids my gaze, and there is an awkwardness between us I don’t like.

“You may be sore for a few days,” I say in an effort to dispel the tension, gesturing to her arm.

Ara rolls her shoulders, wincing a little, drawing my gaze to her mouth.

“That’s what a girl wants to hear coming out of a man’s bed,” Summer says. Her eyes widen, and her hand flies to her mouth, covering it.

She looks up at me, heat sparking between us.

The knock sounds again.

Impatient jerk.

I go over to the door, still trying to get rid of the images Summer just planted in my mind. Her voice husky with want, her skin slick with sweat against mine...

I take a deep breath, but her scent, invading my senses like she has wrapped herself around me, does not help.

A knock sounds again, jarring me out of my fantasies and stopping me from doing something stupid like exploring that statement with her.

I unlock the door and curse under my breath, tempted to slam it shut again. Jared is not alone. Cassius is with him.

“What are you doing here, Cassius?” I snap.

“Don’t be an ass.” Summer steps next to me.

“Did you just call me an ass?” I glower down at her.

“No, I told you not to be one.” She grins up at me. She’s enjoying this.

Cassius does a double take when he notices my shirt on Summer, and I smirk.

“What were you thinking?” he hisses, pulling Summer into his arms, and she lets him.

Not your girl . I take a deep breath, try to relax my hands that have curled into fists, and stop grinding my teeth.

I can’t knock out a squadron leader for hugging a runner, can I?

Summer frees herself and takes the water from Jared, thanking him and striding back into my room while Cassius glowers at her back.

“You drown in that shirt. What is wrong with yours?” he asks.

Summer snatches her shirt off my bed and holds Cassius’s gaze while dipping a clean part into the bowl, then cleaning her face.

“It’s wet and bloody,” she answers.

Jared snickers.

Damn. She sure loves ruffling some feathers. I feel a little sorry for that brother of hers they mentioned, and maybe even for Cassius…okay, I don’t.

Life can’t be easy with a girl like that—but not dull either.

“You missed a few spots.” Cassius beckons her over and takes the shirt from her, cradling the base of her head with one hand while he cleans the blood off her face.

I take a deep breath since beating the shit out of him isn’t an option. Holy mists…I need to harden myself against this…attraction. Against her. Reestablish the distance between us.