Chapter 2
My pulse is racing as I scramble after Gareth, bolting through the hangar door to the tarmac with my wings ruffling behind me.
Although his ever-present stern expression hasn’t changed, I can sense his irritation.
Does he think I don’t value his guidance?
Surely he doesn’t suspect what my true motivation is… ?
Unlike me, Gareth marches into the wind without a single ripple marring the lines of his wings.
His spine is rigidly straight, his posture militarily precise.
The wind twists lovingly through his hair, rifling through the dark strands the way my fingers itch to.
Heads turn to follow him, his dark presence drawing every eye.
I chase after him like an overeager puppy, desperate to please him and wishing for any sign or scrap of genuine affection.
I don’t let him see it, though. When he pauses on the edge of the tarmac and clasps his hands beneath his wings, I pull myself together, lifting my chin and standing at attention.
“What is your objection to being in my squadron, cadet?” he asks, turning and nearly knocking me back with the sheer force of his full attention.
His chiseled face is impossible perfection.
The wind forces me to appreciate that flawlessness by whipping the tips of his hair along those sculpted cheekbones and lips.
It really isn’t fair. How am I expected to get over him when I have to see him every single day? Leaving his class is the only hope I have.
I suck in a deep breath, struggling to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. It’s physically painful to keep the few feet of distance between us. I can’t explain it, have never fully understood it. Something inside me I can’t ignore screams mine, mine, mine. “My request is personal, sir.”
His arms cross, causing his biceps to thicken in a way that makes my mouth water.
The leather straps securing his blade to his back are unadorned by the medals and commendations he’s rightfully earned, symbols of accomplishment that all the other instructors wear with pride.
Gareth doesn’t need the embellishments. He’s stunning enough all on his own.
“It won’t go beyond me,” he says. “Explain.”
My thoughts tumble, searching for an answer that won’t stray too far from the truth. “I have inappropriate feelings for someone.”
“Inappropriate feelings,” he repeats.
“Yes.”
“Of what nature?”
“Uh… romantic?” I don’t mean for the reply to come out like a question, but I’m not good at lying. There are a lot of words I can use to describe how I feel about Gareth. Lustful and greedy. Awed. But romantic is a little too soft for such a strong creature.
Gareth is silent for a long time, his gaze assessing. Then he poses a question in return. “For who?”
You!, I want to shout. Can’t you see how much I love you? How long I’ve worshipped you?
Over his shoulder, a flash of emerald catches my eye—the distinctive green of my best friend’s wings. “Josiah,” I blurt out.
“Josiah?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
The purr in Gareth’s voice catches my attention, a rough sound of indulgent amusement I’ve never heard from him before. His powerful frame visibly relaxes.
I feel my cheeks flush. Could he be any more obvious that he’s relieved I’m not crushing on him?
“I think it would be best if Josiah and I were separated until after graduation,” I say tightly. “I don’t want any distractions.”
Gareth nods. “That’s a reasonable request.”
Blinking, it takes me a second to grasp that I’ve gotten what I want. Regret pierces me, but I hold back the small sound of pain. “Thank you for understanding.”
“You should’ve come to me earlier.”
Perhaps. But I was stupidly clinging to fantasies, choosing to believe Gareth and I were meant to be… until I saw him with another woman in the hours just before dawn.
I’d woken early to practice, hoping to please him and show him that I was worthy of a warrior of his skill and renown.
Instead, I’d seen him with one of the female instructors, standing in the shadows cast by the side of the main hangar, his head bent over her as they spoke, their body language too intimate and familiar—the gentle morning goodbyes of a man and his lover.
“I’ll see that Josiah is transferred to another squadron by morning.”
Gareth’s words hit me like a rush of chilled water.
“What?!” I break my pose. “I’m the one who should be reassigned! It’s my problem.”
“But losing you would become my problem,” he counters reasonably, the words sparking hope in me, which he quickly dashes. “Josiah isn’t nearly the flyer you are.”
Oh, God. This can’t be happening. “He shouldn’t be punished because of me!”
“It’s not a punishment. It’s a transfer.”
I take an involuntary step closer. “None of the other commanders is as good as you are. Giving him to someone else is a step down, no matter how you want to look at it!”
Those brilliantly blue irises of his warm slightly. It is the closest I’ve ever seen him come to a smile. “Thank you, Annalise. But your evaluation is incorrect. Every instructor at the academy is similarly accomplished.”
“You’re missing the point! I’m the one who should transfer.”
“The matter is resolved, cadet.” His arms drop to his sides and he walks past me, heading toward the barracks.
“The hell it is.” I run after him.
“Say that again,” he says, pivoting abruptly, a move that has his wings flaring like a cape.
“If you transfer him, I’ll wash out.”
“Oh, no, you won’t,” he says silkily, advancing. “I would have to approve your discharge, and I guarantee that’s never going to happen.”
I feel invisible walls closing in, caging me. I can’t let Josiah pay for my mistake. He’d never forgive me. I’d never forgive myself. “Never mind, sir. I can deal with him. Leave him be.”
“After all the trouble you’ve gone to?” Gareth comes to a stop mere inches from me.
I can feel the heat of his body; smell the scent of his leathers and his skin.
“Filing the transfer request. Talking with the captain. This display of insubordination. Suddenly, you can train with the cadet you’ve worked so hard to be separated from? I’m doubtful, Annalise.”
My hands fist at my sides, and his gaze drops to take that defiance in. “It’s not Josiah,” I amend between clenched teeth.
“No?” he queries, his gaze following the crisscrossing knife sheath straps that frame my breasts, before gliding up my throat and coming to rest on my mouth. He is strung taut again, as if awaiting the most unpleasant news.
I’m happy to give it to him, since he’s pushed me into a corner. “It’s you, Gareth. I’m in love with you.”