Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“I don’t understand.”
“Not yet, but you will.” She pushes against my hand. “For now, you will heal. You will grow. You will learn. And I promise that while you are the last of your line in this moment, you will never be alone again. You will never see a sunrise where I am not waiting for you.”
I lean forward and rest my forehead against her scales, taking in the enormity of what she’s vowed, of what bonding her really means. I’ll have family again.
For the first time in months, my smile doesn’t just reach my eyes, I feel it in every beat of my heart.
“Would you like to fly back to your friends?”
My squadmates.
I lift my head and grin, then nod. “Yes.”
When I settle into her seat and adjust my hold on her pommel, it feels like walking through the gates of Mairghdelle.
I’m home.
634 AU
Molvic—Blue Clubtail
(Male) Descended from the Gormfaileas Line
Estimated Age: 39
Recorded Riders: 0
—The Compendium of Dragonkind,
last updated by Colonel Valin Kaori
Aaric
The last three times a prince of Navarre walked these woods, he didn’t come out alive.
Now that the sky is turning colors with the approaching sunset, I’m starting to wonder if I’ll not only break that trend but become the first cadet of royal blood to be forced to repeat as an unbonded. Since I’m already the first cadet of royal blood to enter the quadrant under a fake name to hide his location from his father, I’m content with breaking precedent.
Fine. If my dragon isn’t ready to bond me this year, I’ll wait until next.
Playing the long game requires patience.
Steam billows from my left, and my heart leaps as I whip my head in that direction, only to sigh with disappointment when I spot a Green Daggertail stalking toward me.
“No.” I shake my head once, locking eyes with the glaring dragon, and then continue on my way.
I’ve abandoned everything—my title, my family, my very name—to be here. What’s another year of my life? It’s certainly a better option than death.
We were given no answers, no explanation when my brother died here three years ago. Dragons don’t answer to the inquiries of kings. One day Alic was a first-year cadet, and the next his belongings were hauled out of his bedroom in Calldyr to be burned for Malek.
I’m under no illusions about the kind of person Alic grew into. In a family of three brothers, he was the cruelest, the most given to violent tantrums, the one who taught me to mask every weakness because if I didn’t, he’d exploit it. He didn’t start that way, but I barely recognized him the last few years of his life and choose to mourn the version of him I remember from childhood.
Though I’m not sure that version of him could have survived this place, either.
But I will.
Others are in here hoping for acceptance or praying to gods who never bother to answer.
I’m hunting.
In the five hours I’ve spent scouring these woods, I’ve come across reds, oranges, browns, and greens, none of which spoke to me, obviously. But I’m not looking for them anyway.
Not when Molvic is here.
“Come on out and play,” I whisper into the wind as I pass another ancient redwood.
The moment Kaori said the Blue Clubtail had entered the valley, an irrefutable ache started to pang in my chest. That same ache has only grown more painful the closer I get to the southern edge of the forest, and when I approach a small clearing, it outright screams.
The field is empty when I walk into the knee-high grass, but I feel him.
“I know you’re here.” My gaze scans the tree line, and the ache behind my ribs evaporates when I find two golden eyes staring back, nearly hidden in the trees. “Molvic.”
He surges into the clearing, sun glistening on his sapphire-blue scales, baring his teeth with a low growl. My pulse jolts, but I steady it with a breath and sheer force of will. Among blues, he’s second in ferocity only to Sgaeyl, which means showing any fear is going to get me cooked.
“You’re mine.” I take a measured step toward him.
He roars, flattening the grass between us and vibrating every bone in my body.
Godsdamn. I speak nine languages, about four of them fluently, and though none of them is dragon, the vehemence of his denial is easily translated.
“Fine, you can say I’m yours if that makes you feel better.” It takes every ounce of concentration I have to keep my muscles from locking as I walk forward. He’ll set me on fire or he’ll bond me, but one way or another, he’s about to change my life.
His tongue curls, and the back of his throat turns orange.
Well. Fuck.
I sprint toward the right, then dive over a decayed log and roll as heat envelops my spine. When I look back, the grass is smoking where I stood. I dust off my hands, smearing a bloody scrape along my palm. That was a little closer than I would have liked.