There is no stronger bond than that between two mated dragons. It goes beyond the depth of human love or adoration to a primal, undeniable requirement for proximity. One cannot survive without the other.
—Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide to Dragonkind
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Flying for short distances is something I manage.
Flight maneuvers—the dips and dives that come with combat formations—send me spinning through the sky unless Tairn holds me on with bands of his own power.
But flying for six hours straight for our prize, a weeklong tour of a forward outpost, might just be the death of me.
“I’m pretty sure I’m dying.” Nadine bends over, bracing her hands on her knees.
“I feel that.” Every vertebra in my spine screams as I stretch, and the hands that were freezing only a few minutes ago start to sweat inside my leather gloves.
Naturally, Dain is minimally affected, his posture only slightly stiff as he and Professor Devera greet a tall man in rider black, who I assume is the outpost commander.
“Welcome, cadets,” the commander says with a professional smile, folding his arms across the chest of his lightweight leathers. His salt-and-pepper hair makes it hard to determine his age, and he has that gaunt, weathered look all riders get when they’ve been stationed on the border for too long. “I’m sure you’d all like to get settled and into something a little more appropriate to the climate. Then we’ll show you around Montserrat.”
Rhiannon inhales sharply, her gaze sweeping over the mountains.
“You all right?”
She nods. “Later.”
Laterarrives in exactly twelve sweat-soaked minutes as we’re shown to our double-occupancy barracks rooms. They’re sparse, only furnished with two beds, two wardrobes, and a single desk under a wide window.
She’s quiet the entire time we make our way through the bathing chamber to wash off the ride and alarmingly silent while we dress in our summer leathers. It may only be April here at Montserrat, but it feels like Basgiath in June.
“You going to tell me what’s up?” I ask, stowing my pack beneath the bed before making sure all my daggers are where they’re supposed to be. The hilts are barely visible in the sheaths I wear at my thighs, but I doubt many people this far east would recognize the Tyrrish symbols.
Rhiannon’s hands tremble with what looks like nervous energy as she straps her sword to her back. “Do you know where we are?”
I mentally bring up a map. “We’re about two hundred miles from the coast—”
“My village is less than an hour away on foot.” Her eyes meet mine in an unspoken plea, so much emotion swirling in their dark-brown depths that my throat clogs, choking my words.
Taking her hands in mine, I squeeze, nodding. I know exactly what she’s asking and exactly what it will cost if we’re caught.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I whisper, even though it’s just us in the tiny room. “We have six days to figure it out and we will.” It’s a promise and we both know it.
Someone pounds on our door. “Let’s go, Second Squad!”
Dain. Nine months ago, I would have relished this time away with him. Now I find myself avoiding his constant expectations of me—or just avoiding him in general. Funny how much can change in such a short time.
We join the others, and Major Quade gives us the grand tour of the outpost. My stomach growls, but I ignore it, taking in the hectic energy of the base.
The fortress is basically four massive walls, filled with barracks and various chambers with turrets on each corner and a large, arched entrance that boasts a spiked portcullis that looks ready to drop at any second. On one end of the courtyard, there’s a stable with a blacksmith and armory for the company of infantry stationed here, and on the other is the dining hall.
“As you can see,” Major Quade tells us as we stand in the middle of the muddy courtyard, “we’re built for siege. In the event of attack, we can feed and house everyone within for an adequate amount of time.”
Adequate?Ridoc mouths, lifting his brows.
I press my lips together to keep from laughing, and Dain gives him a look that promises retribution from where he stands beside me. My smile falls away.
“As one of the eastern outposts, we have a full twelve riders stationed here. Three are out on patrol now, three wait, standing by in case they’re needed, and the other six are in various stages of rest,” Quade continues.
“What is that look for?” Dain whispers.
“What look?” I ask as the distinct roar of a dragon echoes off the stone walls.
“That should be one of our patrols returning now,” Quade says, smiling like he wants to mean it but can’t quite find the energy.
“The one where someone just sucked the joy out of your world,” Dain responds, bending his head slightly and keeping his voice low enough that only I can hear him.
I could lie to him, but that would make our semi-truce even more awkward. “I was just remembering the guy I used to climb trees with, that’s all.”
He startles like I’ve slapped him.
“So we’ll get you riders fed and put to bed, and then we’ll work on who you’ll be shadowing while you’re here,” Quade continues.
“Will we get to participate in any active scenarios?” Heaton asks, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Absolutely not!” Devera snaps.
“If you see combat, then I’ve failed as this being the safest place on the border to send you,” Quade answers. “But you get bonus points for enthusiasm. Let me guess. Third-year?”
Heaton nods.
Quade turns slightly and smiles at three indistinct figures in rider black as they walk under the portcullis. “There they are now. Why don’t you three come and meet—”
“Violet?”
My head whips toward the gate, and my heart combusts in a series of erratic beats that leaves me clutching my chest with the best kind of shock. No way. There’s no way. I stumble for the gate, forgetting to be stoic, to be emotionally untouchable, as she breaks into a run, her arms opening just before we collide.
She sweeps me up, yanking me against her chest and squeezing tight. She smells like dirt and dragon and the coppery tang of blood, but I don’t care. I hug her back just as hard.
“Mira.” I bury my face against her shoulder, and my eyes burn as she rests her hand on top of the very braid she taught me how to do. It’s as if the weight of everything that’s happened over the last nine months comes crashing down, slamming into me with the force of a cross-bolt.
The wind of the parapet.
The look in Xaden’s eyes when he realized I was a Sorrengail.
The sound of Jack swearing he’d kill me.
The smell of burning flesh that first day.
The look on Aurelie’s face when she fell from the Gauntlet.
Pryor and Luca and Trina and…Tynan. Oren and Amber Mavis.
Tairn and Andarna choosing me.
Xaden kissing me.
Our mother ignoring me.
Mira pulls me back just long enough to look me over, as if she’s checking for damage. “You’re all right.” She nods, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. “You’re all right, aren’t you?”
I nod, but she blurs in my vision because I might be alive, thriving even, but I’m not the same person she left at the base of that turret, and from the heaviness in her eyes, she knows it, too.
“Yeah,” she whispers, tucking me in tight again. “You’re all right, Violet. You’re all right.”
If she says it enough times, I might start to believe her.
“Are you?” I jerk back to study her. There’s a new scar that stretches from her earlobe to her collarbone. “Gods, Mira.”
“I’m fine,” she promises, then grins. “And look at you! You didn’t die!”
Irrational, giddy laughter bubbles up. “I didn’t die! You’re not an only child!”
We both burst into laughter, and tears track down my cheeks.
“Sorrengails are weird,” I hear Imogen state.
“You have no idea,” Dain answers, but when I turn to look, his lips are curved into the first genuine smile I’ve seen from him in months.
“Shut up, Aetos,” Mira barks, throwing her arm over my shoulder. “Catch me up on everything, Violet.”
We might be hundreds of miles from Basgiath, but I’ve never felt more at home.
…
It’s early evening two days later, just after dinner, when Rhiannon and I climb out our first-story window and drop to the ground. Mira’s out on patrol, and as wonderful as it’s been to have her close, this is our only chance.
“We’re on our way.”
“Don’t get caught,” Tairn warns.
“Trying not to.”Rhiannon and I sneak along the battlement wall, turning the corner toward the field—
I run into Mira so hard that I bounce backward.
“Shit!” Rhiannon exclaims as she catches me.
“Don’t you at least check the corners?” Mira lectures, folding her arms over her chest and staring me down in a way I might deserve. Fine, I definitely deserve.
“In my defense, I didn’t think you’d be there,” I say slowly. “Because you’re supposed to be on patrol.”
“You were acting super weird at dinner.” She tilts her head to the side and studies me just like we’re kids again, seeing way too much. “So I switched shifts. Do you want to tell me what you’re doing outside the walls?”