“Turn around.” I make the spinning motion with my finger. “Mira would eat you for breakfast, Tynan.”
“I’m just wondering how one of you got all the good traits and the other looks like she got the leftovers.” His gaze skims down my body.
Full-body-shudder gross.
“You’re an asshole.” I flip him the middle finger.
“Just saying, maybe I’ll write a letter of my own once we get privileges.” He turns and continues walking.
“A nephew would be good,” Rhiannon says, like the conversation was never interrupted. “Boys aren’t too bad.”
“My brother was awesome, but he and Dain are my only experience with growing up around little boys.” We pass more dragons, and my breathing starts to settle. The smell of sulfur disappears, or maybe I’ve just grown accustomed to it. They’re close enough to torch us, the half dozen singe marks testify to that, but I can’t hear them breathing or feel it, either. “Though I think Dain was probably a little more rule-abiding than most kids. He likes order and pretty much detests anything that doesn’t fit neatly into his plan. He’s probably going to give me shit about how I got up the Gauntlet, just like Amber Mavis did.”
We pass the halfway mark and continue.
Is the way the dragons stare at us scary as hell? Absolutely, but they want to be here the same as we do, so at least I hope they’ll be judicious with their firepower.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the rope plan? Or the dagger?” Rhiannon asks, hurt pitching her tone. “You can trust me, you know.”
“I didn’t think of it until yesterday,” I answer, taking the time to look over my shoulder so I can see her. “And if it didn’t work, I didn’t want you to be an accomplice. You have a real future here, and I refuse to bring you down with me if I didn’t make it.”
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I know. But it’s just what friends do, Rhi.” I shrug as we walk by a trio of browns, the soft crunch of our boots on the dark gravel path the only sound for a few minutes.
“You keeping any other secrets up there?” Rhiannon eventually asks.
Guilt settles in my stomach when I think of Xaden and his meeting with the other marked ones. “I think it’s impossible to know everything there is to know about someone.” I feel like shit but keep from lying, at least.
She snorts a laugh. “If that wasn’t skirting the question. How about this? Promise me that if you need help, you’ll let me give it to you.”
A smile spreads across my face despite the terrifying greens we’re walking by. “How about this,” I toss over my shoulder. “I promise that if I need help you’re capable of giving, I’ll ask, but only”—I hold up my forefinger—“if you promise the same.”
“Deal.” She smiles wide.
“You guys done bonding back there?” Tynan sneers. “Because we’re almost to the end of the line, if you haven’t noticed.” He pauses in the middle of the path, his gaze swinging right. “And I still can’t figure out which one I’m going to choose.”
“With arrogance like that, I’m sure any dragon would feel lucky to share your mind for the rest of your life.” I pity whatever dragon—if any—chooses him.
The rest of the squad is gathered ahead of us, facing our direction at the end of the path, but all their attention is focused to the right.
We pass the last brown dragon, and I inhale sharply.
“What the hell?” Tynan stares.
“Keep walking,” I order, but my gaze is transfixed.
Standing at the end of the line is a small golden dragon. Sunlight reflects off its scales and horns as it stands to its full height, flicking a feathered tail around the side of its body. The feathertail.
My jaw drops as I take in the sharp teeth and quick, darting movements of its head as it studies us. At its full height, it’s probably only a few feet taller than I am, like a perfect miniature of the brown next to it.
I walk straight into Tynan’s back and startle. We’ve reached the end of the path, where the rest of the squad has been waiting.
“Get off me, Sorrengail,” Tynan hisses and shoves me back. “Who the hell would bond that thing?”
My chest tightens. “They can hear you,” I remind him.
“It’s fucking yellow.” Luca points right at the dragon, disgust curling her lip. “So not only is it obviously too small to carry a rider in battle, but it’s not even powerful enough to be a real color.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Sawyer says quietly. “Maybe it’s a baby orange.”
“It’s full grown,” Rhiannon argues. “There’s no way the other dragons allow a baby to bond. No human alive has ever seen a baby.”
“It’s a mistake all right.” Tynan looks at the golden one and scoffs. “You should totally bond it, Sorrengail. You’re both freakishly weak. It’s a match made in heaven.”
“It looks powerful enough to burn you to death,” I counter, heat flushing my cheeks. He called me weak, and not just in front of our squad but in front of them.
Sawyer lunges between us, grabbing Tynan’s collar. “Don’t ever say that about a squadmate, especially not in front of unbonded dragons.”
“Let him go—he’s just saying what we’re all thinking,” Luca mutters.
I turn slowly to stare at her, my mouth slightly agape. Is this what happens to us the second we’re out of hearing range of any superior cadet? We turn on one another.
“What?” She gestures to my hair. “Half your hair is silver and you’re…petite,” she finishes with a fake smile. “Golden and…small. You match.”
Trina puts her hand on Sawyer’s arm. “Don’t make a mistake in front of them. We don’t know what they’ll do,” she whispers. And now we’re grouped up.
I shuffle backward a little as Sawyer drops Tynan’s collar.
