A Court of Wings and Fate

25. Admitting Concerns

Estelle rolled beneath Mikael's attack and sprang up behind him, reversing Znaniya in her grasp. She lunged, but Mikael thrust his sword behind himself, parrying her blow with Aesira.

"Good catch, Feathers," Estelle chuckled. She drew her arm back, circling him. "How did you know that blow was coming?"

"It's a move I would've made," he replied with a shrug. Estelle gave him a prompting look. "All right. I knew you'd have momentum when you came out of that roll, so I was listening for your blade." He sheathed his sword and beckoned her closer.

Estelle sheathed Znaniya against her thigh and held out Aesira. Mikael took the blade, running his fingers over the flat edge of it. "When you swing your blade, it has a small whistle." Mikael demonstrated. Estelle strained her ears, listening. She thought she could hear the whistle he was talking about. "When you lunge..." he thrust the sword forward, "it makes that quick huffing sound, like someone exhaling through their mouth."

"I see." Estelle reclaimed her blade and ran through the movements, listening. "I've never really noticed that before."

"Well, you've probably never had to watch your back like our Bastard Lordling has," Ronan sneered from beyond the ring. Mikael stiffened, the smile leaving his lips.

Estelle stepped in between the two of them, shadows coiling atop her shoulders, ready to strike. "Have you forgotten the warning I gave you, Ronan?" She spat.

"Have you forgotten how I drove daggers through your wings?"

Mikael snarled and started forward. Estelle stuck her arm out, barring him. He stopped, but anger radiated from him. "I could have killed you that night," Mikael growled. "Don't make me regret sparing you even more."

"I'm not worried about you, Halfbreed. You need an Illyrian bitch to protect you."

Him. Him. Him, the shadows hissed. He is one who put that hurt in the Angel's eyes.

"You hide in your father's shadow, using his authority to protect yourself. You're pathetic. Worthless. You'll never amount to anything."

It was him. It was him. It was him.

Ronan flashed them a cocky smirk. "You're a bastard. A rutting little bastard, who should have died with his mother."

Mikael flared his wings out, magic sparking around his fingertips. Thinking quickly, Estelle grabbed him by the arm and let the shadows surround them. When they faded, they were standing in the warded clearing.

"Why did you do that?" Mikael seethed.

"Because you were going to attack him. That's what he wanted."

"You heard what he said! I can't let him get away with that!"

"You're right. You can't, but you can't get yourself into trouble by possibly killing him." Estelle rolled her head, cracking her neck. "I thought you said you didn't have anger issues, Feathers."

"I do when my family is involved."

"You told me I need to push through my anger. Use it as fuel, not let it overwhelm me. You should take your own advice."

"Easier said than done." Mikael's eyes flashed with fury.

"Attack me."

"Why?"

"Let's get your temper under control. If you go back to the training grounds in this state, you'll kill him. What will your fathers do then?"

"You can't shield yourself."