Page 136 of House of Ashes

My stomach flipped again, temporarily displacing the hunger. I swallowed hard, my mouth feeling dry and thick.

I wondered if Mykah felt the same when her wyvern killed men…or if the wyvern’s actions created a barrier between her and the sensation of life leaving the body. Had she ever wielded a sword against someone?

But I didn’t want to ask. Not right now, with the feeling so fresh in my mind.

She returned with a jug of well-water and a bowl of vegetable stew. I ate fast, shoveling it into my mouth like I was fresh from Mistward, and drank several cups of water. The headache didn’t leave; I found myself craving the energy of the tonic, the energy this simple meal couldn’t provide.

Craving the dragon’s blood.

I didn’t remember closing my eyes.

When I opened them, Mykah was gone. Sunlight filtered in through shattered windows, and I didn’t know what had woken me until I felt a hand touching my shoulder.

I sat bolt upright, reaching for a sword that wasn’t at my side.

“Easy.” Gaelin stood there, still streaked with soot. He took his hand from my shoulder, and held out my sword. “I’m just here to return this.”

I took it silently, sliding it into its scabbard as I blinked sleep from my eyes.

“Maristela and I need to return home,” he informed me, but his eyes were on Rhylan. “We’re flying back to Kirion today. Doric has called in the Endless Depths to watch your backs. Look, Sera…we can’t afford to lose Rhylan.”

He reached out and gripped my upper arm, staring deep into my eyes.

Sending a message he couldn’t say out loud.

“Don’t trust anyone but yourself and Cryla,” he said, speaking so quietly his lips hardly moved. “As soon as he can fly, get out of here.”

“Who?” I breathed, following his lead, keeping my voice only for his ears.

Gaelin shook his head minutely. “Just be careful.”

I thought of Chantrelle’s threat hanging over our heads…and Gaelin himself was in a position to find out first if she chose to tell the world we were lying about our mate bond.

I could only hope that we had neatly side-stepped her by removing all signs of our deception, but I didn’t want Rhylan to be looked down upon by the dragons he trusted if the truth came out.

It’s much too late for that, my snide inner voice whispered. What’s a little contempt compared to losing your head?

“I will be.” I stepped back from Gaelin, disliking the feeling of another dragon so near me. “Larivor guide your path home.”

He bowed, as a dragon to a Dragonesse, and my heart skipped a beat. It was the first time someone had acknowledged what we were working for…and I wasn’t entirely sure I liked it. Did I deserve it?

But that was the power I was striving for. I needed to get used to it.

I watched until he disappeared into the courtyard, and began checking Rhylan immediately.

His stitches had held through the night, and no red streaks to indicate blood poisoning had spread from the wounds. I pressed down on his arm experimentally, to see if any pus would rise, and instead he drew in a sharp breath.

His eyes cracked open, the blue standing out feverishly against his paler-than-usual skin. “Gods, are you trying to finish what he started?”

“I was checking for infection.” I sank onto the stool, and his hand groped for me, uncoordinated and drooping. I took it, mostly to keep him still, and pressed the back of my hand to his forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.”

“Let’s go home, then.” He tried to smile, and his lower lip split again. Blood welled and a bead dripped onto his chin, pooling in the shallow cleft.

“No. Stay right here—and if you move, I will end you myself.”

I got up and went in search of bandages and food. The first was in short supply; I managed to beg a single bandage from one of the harried, exhausted-looking healers, and when I told the bedraggled cooks in the kitchen who I was fetching food for, they gave me only a bowl of broth.

“He doesn’t get solid food until tonight,” Cryla said, appearing in the doorway. She was even more bloodied now, her dress streaked with brown stains; the bags under her eyes had deepened, but she hummed with tense energy. “Any signs of fever?”