“Oh please, Violet, do give us one of your nervous-babble story times,” Luca says sarcastically. “Let me guess. Wyvern are some elite squad of gryphon riders created because of something we did at a battle only you can manage to remember with your scribe brain.”

“You don’t know what a wyvern is?” Rhi asks, then begins walking again. “Didn’t your parents tell you bedtime stories, Luca?”

“Do enlighten me,” Luca drawls.

I roll my eyes, continuing along the path. “They’re folklore,” I say over my shoulder. “Kind of like dragons but bigger, with two feet instead of four, a mane of razor-sharp feathers streaking down their necks, and a taste for humans. Unlike dragons, who think we’re a little gamey.”

“My mom used to love telling my sister Raegan and me that we’d be plucked right off the front porch by one if we talked back, and their eerie-eyed venin riders would take us prisoner if we took treats we weren’t allowed to have,” Rhi says, flashing a grin at me, and I can’t help but notice that her step is lighter.

Mine is, too. I notice each dragon as we pass, but my heartbeat steadies. “My dad used to read to me those fables every night,” I tell her. “And I seriously asked him one time if Mom was going to turn into a venin because she could channel.”

Rhiannon chuckles as we walk by a set of glaring reds. “Did he tell you people supposedly only turn into venin if they channel directly from the source?”

“He did, but it was after my mom had a really long night while we were stationed near the eastern border, and her eyes were bloodshot red, so I freaked out and started shrieking.” I can’t help but smile at the memory. “She took my book of fables away for a month because the outpost guards all came running, and I was hiding behind my brother, who couldn’t stop laughing, and, well…it was a mess.” I keep my eyes front and center as a large orange sniffs the air when I pass.

Rhiannon’s shoulders shake with laughter. “I wish we’d had a book like that. I seriously think Mom just altered the stories to scare us whenever we stepped out of line.”

“That sounds like some border-village nonsense.” Luca scoffs. “Venin? Wyvern? Anyone with a modicum of education knows that our wards stop all magic that isn’t channeled directly from dragons.”

“They’re stories, Luca,” Rhi says over her shoulder, and I can’t help but notice how much ground we’ve covered. “Pryor, you can walk a little faster if you want up there.”

“Maybe we should slow down and take our time?” Pryor suggests from ahead of Rhiannon, rubbing his palms along the sides of his uniform. “Or I guess we can go faster if we want to get out of here.”

A red steps out of line, putting one claw forward toward us, and my stomach drops to the ground from the weight of the dread filling my entire body. “No, no, no,” I whisper, freezing in place, but it’s too late.

The red opens its mouth, exposing sharp, glistening fangs, and fire erupts along the sides of its tongue, streaming through the air and into the path ahead of Rhiannon.

She yells in shock.

Heat blasts the front of my face.

Then it’s over.

The scent of sulfur and burned grass…burned…something fills my lungs, and I see a charred patch of ground in front of Rhiannon that hadn’t been there before.

“Are you all right, Rhi?” I call forward.

She nods, but the movement is hurried and jerky. “Pryor is… He’s…”

Pryor’s dead. My mouth waters like I’m going to vomit, but I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth until the feeling passes.

“Keep walking!” Sawyer shouts from farther down the path.

“It’s all right, Rhi. You just have to…” She just has to what? Walk over his corpse? Is there a corpse?

“Fire’s out,” Rhiannon says over her shoulder.

I nod, because there’s nothing I can say to reassure her.

Holy shit are we insignificant.

She walks forward and I follow, maneuvering around the pile of ash that used to be Pryor.

“Oh my gods, the smell,” Luca complains.

“Could you please have some level of decency?” I snap, turning around to level a glare at her, but Ridoc’s face makes me pause.

His eyes are as wide as saucers, and his mouth hangs open. “Violet.”

It’s a whisper, and I wonder briefly if I heard him as much as I saw the word forming on his lips.

“Vi—”

A warm huff of steam blows against the back of my neck. My heart thunders, the beat increasing erratically as I take what might be my last breath and turn toward the line of dragons.

The golden eyes of not one but two greens meet mine, consuming my field of vision.

Oh. Fuck.

To approach a green dragon, lower your eyes in supplication and wait for their approval. That’s what I read, right?

I drop my gaze as one chuffs another breath at me. It’s hot and appallingly wet, but I’m not dead yet, so that’s a plus.

The one on the right chortles deep in its throat. Wait, is that the sound of approval I’m looking for? Shit, I wish I’d asked Mira.

Mira. She’s going to be devastated when she reads the rolls.

I lift my head and suck in a sharp breath. They’re even closer. The one on the left nudges my hands with its giant nose, but I somehow stand my ground, rocking back on my heels to keep from falling over.

Greens are the most reasonable.

“I cut my hands climbing the obstacle course.” I lift my palms, like they can see through the black fabric binding my wounds.

The one on the right sets its nose right at my breasts and chuffs again.

What. The. Hell.

It inhales, making that noise in its throat, and the other shoves its nose into my ribs, making me raise my arms just in case they feel like taking a little nibble.

“Violet!” Rhiannon whisper-shouts.

“I’m all right!” I call back, then wince, hoping I didn’t just seal my fate by screaming in their ears.

Another chuff. Another chortle, like they’re talking to each other as they sniff me.

The one under my arm moves its nostrils to my back and sniffs again.

Realization hits and I choke out a tight, surreal laugh. “You smell Teine, don’t you?” I ask quietly.