“I don’t know enough about flying,” he mumbles.
“Envision yourself with wings,” Jace calls from the water. “See them in your mind as an extension of yourself. The goal is to stay suspended, even if only for a few seconds.”
I steady myself once more, take a running start, and once again fall flat on my face.
I groan as I come up for air. Jace lounges lazily, elbows resting above the water’s edge as the sun’s brilliant beams reflect off his golden eyes.
“That was worse than the first time.” His voice is cocky.
I flip him off.
“This is ridiculous,” I say, dragging myself from the water once more.
“Giving up so soon?” he feigns surprise, swimming toward me. I ignore him, bending for my pants.
“How about this—I’ll break your fall this time.”
I dare a glance back at him. “How.”
“Don’t you trust me?” he asks.
No, I do not trust that smirk, that face—the saintly portrait of innocence.
That elicits a scoff from Zadyn as he strips off his jacket and rolls up his cream-colored sleeves to his forearms, leaning back on the cushy blanket of grass.
I shake my head and return to home base. This time, as I sprint and leap into the air, I manage to hover there for two seconds before the wind rushes out of my lungs and I plummet. I steel myself for the cruel slap of the water, but instead, strong hands grip me by the waist and slowly ease me down into the pool. I brace my hands on Jace’s shoulders as he lowers me. My body slides against his, our chests pressed together, rising and falling unevenly.
The rustle of clothing pulls my attention to Zadyn, who is heading toward his horse.
“Hey, where are you going?” I call, extricating myself from Jace’s intimate grip.
“I just remembered I’m having lunch with the king today. It completely slipped my mind.” He doesn’t meet my gaze.
Lunch with the king?
“Zadyn, are you okay?” I lean over the plushy grass, searching his face.
“I’m fine.” He shrugs, stepping into the stirrups and throwing a long leg over his horse.
“I’ll see you later,” he tosses carelessly over his shoulder and disappears through the trees.
“Did he seem?—”
“Jealous?” Jace sidles up to me.
“No,” I say reflexively. “Yeah.”
Something tightens in me. Sadness? Guilt? Over what? Some mild flirtations with Jace? Didn’t he top that tenfold when he slept with Cece with only a wall separating us?
Jace shrugs in answer, idly treading water. “He’s your familiar. He’s just being protective.”
“Territorial, you mean.”
He gives me an incredulous look. “No more territorial than you.”
I open my mouth in protest. “That is not true.”
“You took a hissy fit when you found him and Cece in matching bed sheets.” Golden eyes assess me incredulously, one brow torqued.
