Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"If the dragon dies, so does the rider.” 

“I know,” I hiss, wind blasting my face as Tân dives towards the ground, her wings near motionless as she uses gravity to power us. I'm glad I remembered my goggles, but I can barely catch my breath. “Is now really the time? Get closer.” 

“Now would be a good time to say your goodbyes to someone who's barely aware of your existence, yes.” 

“Not today, Tân.” Well, maybe it will be the day I say bye… if she doesn't fucking speed up.

“Fen. If the dragon dies—”

“I fucking know!” 

Tân lands, her back legs slamming into the ground. By the time her front legs do the same, I'm already off her gigantic back, jumping to the ground rather than climbing down like normal riders. I ignore the momentary pain in my ankles as I always have. The sharp twinges tell me my ankles snapped on impact, but the pain is gone by the time I'm two steps into my sprint. I've mended my injuries by four steps.

I keep running, despite my want to stop and touch Liam Mairi's forehead. To run my fingers through his blonde hair. I'm sure it would be just as soft as I've imagined a hundred times. Fuck. Not the time. 

Just a few more sprinting steps and I'm beside Deigh, the large red daggertail bonded to Liam. 

I wasn't even meant to be here. My orders were to follow my Squad Leader to an outpost three hundred miles from here. Only, an hour into our flight, Tân turned and launched us back, headed to the side of Chradh, Garrick's dragon, for some unknown reason. Lust, possibly. Curiosity maybe. A combination perhaps. And I can't control where Tân goes. She just goes and I've got to hang on for dear life. We landed at Athebyne, an outpost outside of Navarre's wards, just before all hell broke loose. 

Which meant, I was swept up in whatever the fuck is going on against my will. All I know is there was a choice - be a coward and head back to the war games, or stand and fight some mythical creature thing called a Venin that everyone else seemed to know about except for me. Even Violet Sorrengail, who appeared as blindsided as I was (by the glare set into her face) seemed to know what they were.

Then again, I'm still reeling from finding out she's fucking Xaden Riorson, her Wingleader. Here I was thinking First Years like us were meant to keep it to our own bunks. Maybe I should have thought about setting my sexual sights higher. 

Tân’s low, rumbling voice fills my ears. “You'd need someone to want you for that to happen, virgin.”  

“Harsh.” But true. I assess Deigh's injuries. It'll hurt like anything, but I'm sure I can do it. 

“This is ambitious, even for you.” 

“Caught on, have you?” I snap. 

“Careful," she growls, reminding me for the umpteenth time why you're not meant to look a green dragon in the eye until they bond with you. Even then, it's a sketchy thing to do on the wrong day. 

I swallow the lump that rises to fill my throat. No one knows about my signet so far. Not even the professors. I've hidden it so well. Is this really the right time to do this?

“Break your mental connection with the others,” I command, though Tân and I both know I have no proper authority over her. We're a partnership. Unless she wants to fly us in the opposite direction to where we were commanded to go in the war games…

“Done the moment we landed, little one,” she says, her voice quieter than before. 

“Where hurts most?” I ask Deigh out loud as I assess his red scales. 

Tân scoffs. “You're asking the wrong question to a half-dead dragon.” 

Of course. If he could answer, his eyes would be open and he'd be moaning or huffing from the pain. As it is, he's like a large red hill, curled in on himself. 

“Right, where should I start then?” 

“The heart. Always the heart. And take off your clothes.”

“What?” My head whips round in Tân’s direction. 

She stands like we do in formation - over my shoulder. But her amber eyes aren't fixed on me, but Deigh’s chest. Her swordtail curls up into the air, ready to strike anyone who dares step up to her flank. Her green scales shine in the sun, reminding me for the thousandth time of the grass filled valleys I called home long before Basgiath. 

“So I know when to stop you channeling.”

“Fuck’s sake,” I hiss, though I know she's right. For this to work, she has to know my limits for me. Once the pain begins, I won't have control, and we'll both suffer if I use too much of her power in one go. “But I'm keeping my underwear on.”

“Zynd. What are you doing?” Xaden Riorson’s deep voice roars from somewhere behind me as I strip off my trousers, throwing them on top of my discarded boots, jacket, and undershirt. His words are laced with anger and sorrow, and I almost answer him - I must look half-mad, standing in front of a dragon, flanked by another, wearing only a strip of binding over my chest and a pair of undershorts. 

“Fen," Tân warns, "ignore him. Focus.”

“Fine,” I reply, rolling my shoulders back until my shoulder blade cracks.

She's right. Riorson might be the most senior rider on the field, and Fourth Wing's Wingleader but I owe him nothing. And he's working with the enemy. Fucking traitor. 

“With that logic, Liam Mairi is a fucking traitor yet you're saving his life.” 

“How long do I have?” I ask, ignoring Tân’s remark.

She's right, again. But it's easier to forgive and forget with Liam. Even though no one's asked me how I feel about being stuck here, fighting. No one's asked me how I feel about anything. They barely noticed when I arrived, unless you count Riorson's dragon, Sgaeyl, threatening to eat me if Tân and I didn't keep our mouths shut. I don't even know half their names except for Riorson, Garrick, Liam and Violet. Guess that comes with being a First Year in Second Wing.

“Start now.” 

Closing my eyes, I focus on the sigil burned into my lower back, until I feel heat radiating through my body. A growl then thump behind me tells me someone tried to approach and Tân stopped them. Hopefully they'll understand in a minute, because Tân can't run defense and know my limits at the same time. 

I'm not like other menders, who can channel their power and heal others. I can only mend myself. But I can take on someone else's injuries, then heal myself. It's… complicated. And time consuming. And makes me incredibly vulnerable. So I need her to concentrate on making sure I'm not draining her.  

“I said start now.”

“I fucking am.” Arms wide, I roll my head back over my shoulders and stare up at the sky and say what feels right; "Malek, today we sent soulless Venin to you. Let that satiate your bloodlust."

“They're about to send two more,” Tân adds. “Riorson and Sorrengail are in the air." She huffs. "Mend his wing first.”

“You said his chest.” 

“Changed my mind.” 

“Well, hope you're right.” 

The all-encompassing heat flooding through my body flows out, leaving my fingertips as it digs into the long jagged marks which run across Deigh’s wing. The magic flows over the wounds, tracing the marks, before covering them. 

Then, they transfer to my arm. It's the first time I've tried to heal someone or something who's badly injured other than myself or Gayl, my best friend at Basgiath. I'm not sure what to expect, but this makes sense - the wounds from the wings and I'm guessing the front legs will transfer to my arms. The back legs will transfer to my legs, and the rest will be as it is on the dragon - chest to chest, back to back, head to head. 

The first cut on my skin feels like a spear of molten lava. An invisible wyvern claw carves into my arm from my fingertips to my shoulder blade. It's excruciatingly slow. My scream fills the air around me, joining the roar of dragons and cries of people which spill out of town and onto the battlefield. 

Flashes of lightning flash through the sky above us, distracting me momentarily. Violet Sorrengail. Lightning wielder. Makes sense. I just hope she knows what she's doing. 

The second cut to my arm is worse somehow, running parallel to the first. The third… well, the only thing keeping me standing is the fact my knees locked the moment Tân allowed me access to her magic. 

“Stop now.” 

I can't bear the pain any longer so I do as Tân says and allow the heat of magic to retreat to my relic. Falling to my knees, I breathe deep and slow just like she taught me, and focus on the lines of fire on my arms as my body heals itself, until my wounds are just aching scars. Even these will heal to nothing within hours. 

“You've healed one wing,” Tân says. “That will help with blood loss. Now, his chest. Or there's no helping them.” 

Them. Not just Deigh. Liam too. "He's still alive then?" 

"They both are. For now." 

Standing takes more effort than I'm used to, and I'm used to training against the worst (and the best) Navarre and Tyr have to offer at Basgiath. But I manage it. Somehow. I allow myself two breaths, then begin again. 

It's funny, I think as I prepare for the onslaught of pain once more, Liam and I barely know each other. To him, I'm probably just another face in the crowd. In fact, we're about as close as someone in Second and Fourth Wing could be which is not close at all. Yet he means so much to me — on my first day at Basgiath he cut lines into the soles of my shoes so I wouldn't slip on the parapet. He did it for two of us - someone he knew - and me, someone he didn't know.

Our first fight on the mats, he pulled his punches and won without injuring me too badly. When he found me in the training room that night, trying to figure out how to approach well, anything… he helped me work out a regime. He only did it once, but I stuck to what he told me, and I survived Threshing. 

We barely speak now. Apart from the occasional nod in hallways, he barely acknowledges me. He sure as shit doesn't notice me staring at him during formation or in class.

But no matter how I feel about him, he saved my life more than once by his little moments of help. I wouldn't have survived to the end of this year without him. And I need to survive another two years so I can find out what happened to my sister when she died in Basgiath two years ago. 

Ergo, I owe Liam Mairi. 

The heat in my body radiates out from my relic, the magic touching and burrowing into the injury in Deigh’s chest. My scream is louder this time. And the pain in my own chest? Worse than having my arms carved up. It makes me gasp and groan and cry out and cough and splutter when I can't scream any longer. The wounds dig deep into my chest, so deep I choke on my own lungs as they're torn to shreds. 

Now I understand why Tân got me to heal Deigh's wing first. She was easing me in. Whatever that wyvern did to Deigh, it's doing to me as I take on each of his injuries, transferring them onto my body to heal. The slow pace and unrelenting pain is Malek’s punishment for denying him another soul. Balance.

“Stop.” 

No. I can't stop now. I can feel how deep the wound is. One minute more. “One—”

“I said stop.”

This time, I do as I'm told, dropping to my knees again. My garbled cry falls away. The rushing blood in my ears slows as my body heals, and when I can hear again, I realise the skies are eerily quiet. There are no wings, no snorts, no thumps of dragons landing. No breaths. No shouts or complaints behind me. 

“Where is everyone?” 

“Watching.” Tân’s voice is tight, like she's hiding something from me. I don't have time to figure out what. I just have to hope everyone else is alive. That I stopped to mend the right dragon.

That's almost laughable. Mending the right dragon. Riders mend other riders. They don't mend dragons. 

But if Deigh dies, Liam dies. 

I wait until the pain in my chest dulls to a deep seated ache. Until my coughs weaken and don't make me sob. Until I can just about imagine having to do it all again. 

Deigh’s red eyelid opens, and he stares at me with his deep amber eye. Then, he makes a snorting noise, huffing a blast of heat my way.

I wrench myself to my feet. “Please say he's not going to snuff me out midway through this.”

“He's not. He does think you're mad though.” 

I nod. “Maybe I am.” 

“Maybe you are.” 

"What do the others think?" 

Tân must have started up her communication with the other dragons again. Which means she has access not only to their reactions, but what they relay on from their riders. 

"That's one for another time." 

I run my gaze over the length of Deigh's body. There's so much of him. So many injuries. His red chest looks half healed but his scales still ooze dark green and black… muck. One wing is riddled with scars, the injuries already mended and aged thanks to my healing. The other hangs limp and half torn at his side. Bad, but not life threatening. 

His chest again it is then.

Arms wide, I descend into pain once more. I mend Deigh and break myself. Mend myself. Repeat. A vicious, horrid cycle. 

I think if any of this hurt Tân, she'd tell me to get lost. But it doesn't. It never does. I get the pain. Not her. 

What feels like hours later, I drop not to my knees, but to my arse. My back follows, knocking the air from my lungs as I meet the ground. Then my head whacks, sending pulsing lines of ice cold shock through my skull.  

Red scales fill my vision. Deigh is standing. Deigh is scarred. Deigh. Is. Alive.

My eyelids feel so heavy as I blink, they might as well be closing for the last time. 

“Liam?” 

“Mairi is still alive. Now sleep.” 

Thank fuck.

Chapter Text

Everywhere aches. My head. My legs. My knees. Even that space between my ear and my neck (somewhere I’ve never felt before) fucking kills. 

Opening my eyes, I blink slowly. The sun is blinding, but at least it tells me I’m alive. I blink again, and the light is gone. The whole world is black. No, green. Dark, dark green. 

There’s a sharp pain around my back, followed by a crushing around my middle which has me gasping. Cracks sound as I’m lifted into the air. My back bows. I can’t feel my legs anymore. In fact, there’s no more pain. 

“The pain will come again, little one,” Tân’s voice sounds in my head, drowning out the thumping of her wings. 

“When?” 

“When you mend your back.” 

I wake screaming. No, not screaming. It’s an odd, warbled kind of cry that always sticks in my throat and leaves me breathless. 

I sink back into the sheets and sigh, blinking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. 

I haven’t dreamt of the first time I mended myself in weeks. I fell off Tân’s back and smacked against a rock on a flight two months into flight training. Tân knew I wasn’t dead when she heard my thoughts restart minutes after I, in her words, “Went splat.”

It was a first for her, but not a first for dragonkind. She says it's been hundreds of years since a mender like me has been alive, but that doesn’t make me feel any better or any safer. 

In fact, it makes me more afraid — what if someone finds out what I am? What will they do to bend me and my signet to their will? What will they make me mend for them? Will they torture me to find the limits of my power? Or will they snap my neck like Jeremy when he manifested as an inntinnsic? Would that even kill me, or would I just heal from that too?

Tân snorts. “Should have thought about that before you healed Deigh.”

“Not helping.” Groaning, I shift my legs, then flex my toes. If I have to run, they'd better be working. If they're not, I'm definitely done for. 

“You’re fully healed. Your scars are gone.”

“No.” I flex my fingers. “It would take days to fully heal like that.”  

Tân falls silent. 

Eyes wide, I sit up and a sheet falls from my chest. My bare chest. Grabbing the soft fabric, I pull it against my body. 

I take in the wide, open window leading to a balcony. White, gossamer curtains float inside, twirling with the slight breeze. The room is light, brighter than Basgiath and larger than my First Year room. Larger than my sister said her Second- and Third- Year rooms were. My bed is much softer. And the sheets… They're orange, not rider black. 

“Where am I?” I ask Tân, hoping she'll give me a to-the-point reply. 

“Your question should be: where are we?” 

“Just tell me, please?” I ask, noticing my door sits slightly ajar. 

Tân is obviously somewhere outside, so I'm more concerned with myself. An empty armchair, positioned at the end of my bed, points towards me, as if someone's been watching me sleep. Or, guarding me. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

A door opens outside. My head whips round at the rhythmic sound of two pairs of footsteps. There’s nowhere to run apart from out the window, but I don’t want someone to see me naked right now, and the idea of falling to my apparent death, then waking surrounded by people while all I'm wearing is a sheet makes nausea rise to my throat. 

Launching myself back, I rearrange the sheet over my body, then close my eyes.

“Your arms were above the covers,” Tân chuffs. 

I just have enough time to rectify my mistake. A moment later, the two people make their way into my room. Riders, I assume, by the heavy footsteps. One sits in the armchair - the scraping of wood against the stone floor is unmistakable. The other moves to my side. I force myself to stay still, but mentally I prepare for a fight. 

Warm fingers touch my forehead. I fight my frown and stay still. This is new. 

“You're sure she’ll wake up?” the man closest to me asks. I don’t recognise the voice. I feel like I should from the way he's speaking about me, but I don't. His fingers leave my brow. 

“Tân told Deigh she would.” I recognise the second voice, calling over from the armchair; Liam. “She just needs time to fully heal, and who knows how long that'll take. Deigh’s wounds…” He sucks in a breath. 

“How long does it usually take?” 

“I'm not—”

“Liam?” A third voice interrupts. A deep, growling voice. Xaden Riorson. “How is she?”

“Still asleep. How’s Violet?” Liam asks.

“She must be awake if he's here,” the unknown man says. 

“Not yet,” Riorson replies. 

I admire his efficiency with words. There's no skirting the issue or elaborating for those of us pretending to be asleep. 

Tân chuffs at my sarcasm. 

“Where are all the women?” I ask.

“Probably doing important things,” she replies. 

I snort. 

The chair scrapes. “Is she…?” 

Fuck. I force a cough, then another, until I'm deep into a series of chest-wracking coughs to try and hide my alertness. 

“Shit,” Liam says, his voice closer this time. “Should we get Aisereigh?”

Tân’s laughter booms in my head. “Keep going. They’ll think your lungs are failing again.”

“Again? Do I want them to think that?” 

I'm barely able to control my surprise when a pair of hands firm around my bare shoulders, holding me still. I fight the urge to open my eyes. 

“No,” Tân says seriously. “They’ll bring their mender and he’ll know you’re awake.”

I slow my coughs and calm my movements. The hands at my shoulders squeeze, then two thumbs rub circles into the skin over my collarbone. I melt under the incredible feeling. 

“Calm,” Liam says. “Calm.” 

“She’ll be alright,” Riorson says, somewhere above me. 

Great. Just when I thought this situation couldn’t get any worse, I’m still in a sheet, and there are three men somewhere above me. And I’m sure the third one is just as attractive as Liam and Riorson. Basgiath is like that - filled with fit men and women. 

“He is,” Tân confirms, with a smile in her voice. “To your standards at least.”

“I hate you.” 

“Sgaeyl says she’s asleep,” Riorson says to the others. “She won't feel the pain of this.” 

“I love you,” I correct. 

“Thought so,” Tân replies. 

“Good. That's good isn't it?” Liam says. 

His voice retreats as he moves his hands from my shoulders. I feel oddly bereft, not having his touch anymore. It's the most I've touched another human being in a while. Unless you count mending Gayl, which I don't as it comes with pain. 

“Tân still won’t speak to Deigh so I'm glad she's speaking to Sgaeyl,” Liam adds, his chair scraping on the floor once more. 

“I didn't want to speak to Sgaeyl either, but she scares me," Tân says, evidently bored. 

I cough again.

“Still?” the third man asks after a moment of silence, his voice further away than even Liam's. “Her rider is half dead with no waking in sight. You'd think she'd open up to Deigh by now.” 

“All she says is that Fen will wake up when she's ready,” Liam says. “Then she shuts the others out.” 

I try to rein in my reaction to hearing my nickname on his tongue. If he's ever addressed me it's been Zynd, my surname. Only a few times has he called me Fenryn. This is the first time he's called me Fen. 

“And when she does wake up,” Liam continues, “it’s up to her to speak to us. To explain.”

“What does she need to explain?” the third man asks, incredulity lacing his words. “She mended a mother-fucking dragon. No one’s heard of a rider doing that. Even to the dragons it’s a centuries old myth. We all saw it. She could be indispensable in this—”

“No. We need to know why first,” Riorson says, his voice retreating with his footsteps into the hall. “When she wakes up, ask her why she did it.”

Shit. I’m going to have to come up with a proper reason for helping Liam. One that will show them I won't be “indispensable” to them. That I won't help them. And I have a feeling ‘because he helped me get over the parapet’ isn’t going to cut it. 

“It might do. Or you could always tell them you think he has a great arse,” Tân says.

This time, I hold my snort in. Barely. But I do. 

“Couldn’t be because she wants you, could it?” the third man asks. “That’d be a pleasurable ‘thank you for saving my life.’” 

“Fuck off,” Liam counters.

Mercifully, it only takes half an hour before Liam and the other rider are called away by Imogen. I know her by reputation so again, I'm glad I pretended to be asleep. 

I'm sure we're not in Basgiath now. For one, they all seem far too relaxed. And for another, I can't hear the bells which call us to classes or signify hour marks. 

I wait another five minutes, just in case Liam does as he was threatening to and comes back to continue his watch, then I rise, tip-toeing to the door to close it. 

After relieving myself and having a quick wash, I search the bedroom to find something to wear. I come up empty. There's nothing in the armoire, or under the bed. Sighing, I pick up the sheet from the bed. Wrapping it around me, I secure it with a double knot at my neck until I’ve fashioned a floor length dress from the sheet. I hum, admiring the deep orange fabric which warms my tawny skin tone.

It takes me ten minutes to figure out how to secure the sides, but by the time I'm done I think I look halfway presentable. If you don't look at my back, that is. 

It's a far cry from my riders leathers. The silken fabric drapes over my front, falling to the floor. Behind, I'm exposed down to the small of my back, where my relic is positioned. The image of Tân’s body is on full display, while half her wings (which curl up and around my sides to end just underneath my breasts) are hidden. I guess Basgiath successfully wiped any self consciousness I might have felt before. 

My black curls have been tied into a simple bun at my nape, so I leave my hair as it is. I fist my skirts (the sheet) in one hand as I run barefoot from the room to make my escape. 

“Left,” Tân says, leading me through the halls. “Straight.”

I don't for a second think she's leading me astray as I glide down a set of stairs, taken aback for a moment by the sheer scale of the entrance hall and winding staircases above me. It's like the entire building has been built into a mountainside — “It was. Now, keep moving.”

I've never seen anything like it.

At the bottom of the stairs, a mere twenty feet from a pair of gigantic wooden doors, I stop still. 

Liam, Imogen (who I recognise from her pink hair and glare more than anything), and someone who looks remarkably like a younger Riorson with his keen brown eyes, wide shoulders, and that face shape… walk out of a room to my left. 

I blink, then look to the main entrance. I might be able to outrun them. Then again, I might not. I move slower in the hours after healing my body. Even slower in the days after almost dying. So who knows how long it'll be until I feel up to my usual strength. My stomach rumbles. Gods, I need food.

“Fenryn Zynd?” the third man asks. I recognise his voice from my bedroom and the thought warms from my chest to my cheeks.

“Bodhi, Riorson’s cousin. Second Year,” Tân says when I relay the general description of the marked one. 

"I know," I reply. I don't know him well. By sight mainly since he's in Fourth Wing, but we all know leadership, and has an Executive Officer of Claw Section. 

Straightening, I drop my skirt, which pools around me, and stand to my full height, puffing out my chest as I draw my hands together at my waist. 

My gaze snaps to Liam’s face. He doesn't notice, his own gaze dragging slowly up my dress. He doesn't seem impressed.

“You're awake then,” Imogen says. 

I nod. What else is there for me to say? 

Imogen looks at Liam, whose eyes are now boring holes into the side of my face. “Where did you get that?” he asks. 

“It's the sheet from the room you left me in.” I clear my throat.

Imogen sighs, “Hungry?” 

“Starving,” I admit. 

“Come on then.” She walks past me.

There's a hiss when I turn to follow the pink haired rider. A deep laugh rings out, echoing throughout the hall. My stomach twists, as warmth rushes to my cheeks. 

A glance over my bare shoulder confirms it — Liam's back is to me. Bodhi, hand clapped to Liam's shoulder, hides his smile behind his hand. 

I look away before they can catch me staring. It's not the first time Liam's friends have laughed at me, just the first time in months. It's why I stopped greeting him — one morning I decided to say hi. We had a nice chat, then his friends’ laughter rang out in the hallway as I left. It felt like being back at school, and I promised myself I'd not speak to him again if his friends were around. Soon after, he started spending all his time with Sorrengail.

“Should have let him die," Tân growls.

“Why are you avoiding Deigh?” 

“This isn't about me,” Tân says, before our connection goes quiet. 

The food hall is smaller than Basgiath, but that's not saying much. It could still fit my family home five times over. With space. 

“Fenryn,” Liam says behind me, “I wanted to—” 

“Food,” I say, ignoring him in favour of half-running to a mass of steaming food which sits in metal dishes along one wall. He can thank me for saving his life another time. “Is this rationed?” I ask the attendant, who shakes her head slowly.

My smile morphs into a grin. All this food and no rationing. Perfect. 

“Slow, little one. You haven't eaten in days,” Tân says as I pile spoonfuls of rice into a large bowl.

“Exactly.”

I take the bowl back to where the others are sitting on benches. They've helped themselves to biscuits and hot drinks, and settled in. There's a space at the head of the table in a chair, or a space on the bench next to Liam. I'm too starved to brave sitting next to him - when I'm hungry, my filter lowers. I don't know what my reaction will be if Bodhi laughs at me again. So I set my bowl at the head of the table. 

“Just rice?” Bodhi asks. 

I raise a brow and don't dignify him with an answer before I return to the food station. Choosing the largest plate I can find, which I think is actually a serving platter, I take something of everything, even adding another bowl filled to the brim with a salty, clear soup. 

Gods, I'm always hungry after I heal myself.

“Left anything for the rest of us?” Imogen asks. 

I settle into my chair and the first few mouthfuls make me moan as I eat. I can't help it. Everything just has so much flavour. It's not like Basgiath where food is edible but not tasty. This… this is incredible. I finish the plate in a few minutes, my table manners the only thing slowing me down. 

I wipe my mouth on a cloth napkin, and try to think of what my first question should be. 

Bodhi hands me a mug of something hot and steamy. It tastes bitter, so I reach over and add two spoonfuls of honey. 

“That was impressive,” Liam says, watching me closely.

I shrug. “I have an incredible appetite after mending. But it's nothing on my stamina. I can just keep going and going. Do you remember when I almost beat you on the mat a couple of months after Threshing?” 

His throat bobs and he gives me a stiff nod. 

“That was just after I mended myself for the first time. I fell during flight training,” I explain, trying not to get caught up in the memory of Liam's body over mine on the mat, or mine over his when I took him down… or the feel of his forearm across my collarbone, hips pressed against mine… The cool steel of his blade against my neck… 

“You're drooling,” Tân says, “and embarrassing the boy.” 

Redness seeps onto Liam’s cheeks. 

“Sorry,” I say, “I know I put up quite a fight.” 

I'm actually not sorry. I think that was my best mat performance to date, and we were at it for twenty minutes before he pinned me in an inescapable position. Even then, I didn't tap out for a full minute. 

Liam clears his throat and glances at Bodhi, whose gaze flicks between Liam and me at an incredible pace. 

“Yes, well,” Liam says, “it was a good fight. You did well.” 

“Thank you,” I say, smiling gratefully. “I enjoy praise, but Basgiath is the wrong place to get it.” 

Bodhi covers his hand with his mouth. 

“What did I say?” I ask Tân. There's no answer. 

My attention is caught by someone bringing out a large platter. “Is that dessert?” I ask. I'm at the station before I hear an answer. I return with two plates filled with fruit and cake. 

“Right, the food is good, and buildings are different, so I'm assuming we're not back in Navarre?” I ask, settling next to Liam this time. 

Bodhi’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Not yet, no.” 

I let out a low groan. “Please tell me we're not in rebel territory.” 

“We prefer the term revolutionaries.” 

I hum and spear a forkful of a pink and white fruit. “Well, I guess it pays to be bad.” 

Liam makes a noise beside me, but I ignore it. I know I'd be annoyed if someone insulted my revolution, especially if my parents died for ‘the cause’. 

“Why did you fly to Athebyne?” Imogen snaps. 

Here we go. The questioning begins. “I didn't,” I admit. “Tân has a thing for—”

“Utter one more syllable and I'll spill your secrets, little one.” 

“You wouldn't.” 

“I would.”

“Surely Chradh knows how you feel?” 

“I don't want a mate,” Tân replies, ending our conversation.

“Fine,” I say out of the corner of my mouth. I shake my head and take a sip of my drink. “I can't explain why or she'll eat me, or burn me, but Tân flew here and I couldn't stop her.” 

“I guess that's as good an answer as any,” Bodhi sighs. 

“No it's not. Why did you do it?” Imogen asks. “Why save Liam's arse?” 

“Wouldn't you?” I reply through a mouthful of sweet orange.

“They don't trust you,” Tân chuffs when they sit stone faced around me.

“I know.” 

“Really, why?” Imogen presses. I wonder if she's had the same orders from Riorson to bring him answers. “Didn't have enough glory in first year, Cadet?” 

The accusation of glory chasing rubs me up the wrong way. My sister's smiling face comes to mind. She was the glory chaser. She was the one who wanted to be a rider. And if I'd been two years earlier into Basgiath I would have been able to save her life. 

“Do you remember much from the parapet?” I ask, turning to Liam for the first time. He’s already looking at me, so I tilt my head and lean in a touch. 

His blue eyes widen, then his nose wrinkles. “Not really. I remember the walk.” 

Bodhi scoffs. 

“You cut lines into the soles of my boots so I wouldn't slip. I mean, you only did it because I saw you helping Sutherland and I didn't have a dagger on me, but you did.” I return to my plate, rolling a strawberry around the edge. “That day, you denied Malek my soul, and now he punishes me. Every time I think I might die, I wake.

"I've fallen three times from Tân’s back into ravines, and three times she's pulled me out and had to watch over me while my bones crack and snap back into place.” I continue through a mouthful of crunchy apple. “I owe you my life. If I don't balance the scales, I don't know if Malek will ever let me go, and the pain when I heal someone…” I shake my head and hands. “It's on another level.

"Like Malek is making it doubly worse as punishment. But, I reckon Deigh counts as one life debt down. So I've only got two to go. And none of this is taking into account the other times you helped me, like that first night in the training room, or the times you faced me on the mat and let me walk away.” 

I take a bite of cake and let them mull my words. Hell, I mull my words. 

“You almost had me convinced that was the whole reason, little one. Lying sounds good on you.” 

“The words just kept going," I reply, "and I wasn't lying about everything. Just the shit about Malek.” 

Tân hums. “They think you're too serious, and we don't want that.”

I frown. “We don't?”  

“No,” Tân growls. “This is a test. What if you go back and tell everyone in Navarre what happened here? We need them to think you can adapt.”  

“I can adapt.”

“Prove it.”

I make a point of sighing, and bring another piece of the pink fruit to my lips. “I’ve got used to hiding my signet. It's a necessity if I don't want them to tear me apart just to see if I can put myself back together again. So, you don't tell my secret, I won't tell yours.”

Imogen blinks slowly, then nods. I see the others do the same out of my peripheral vision. 

“Also,” I say with a smile. “I reckon I've done the riders quadrant a favour. Liam's arse? Perfectly formed.” 

Liam chokes, Bodhi snorts, the corner of Imogen’s lips tilt up, and I allow my lips to tug into a large smile. 

Even Tân laughs. “They think you're joking again. Wait until they know the truth in your words.” 

“Chradh?” I counter. 

“Shut up.” 

“Please tell Xaden that,” Bodhi chuckles. 

“Tell Xaden what?” a low voice asks at my shoulder. 

I look up, and fall into a pair of amber eyes. 

A dragon in human form. 

"Brennan Aisereigh," the man greets, holding out a hand. 

Chapter Text

Tân's growl fills my mind. "Do not trust that man as far as you can throw him." 

Placing another berry onto my tongue, I drag my gaze from Brennan's black boots to his auburn hair. He must have graduated a while back if his rider black outfit and wrinkles beside his eyes is any indication. I'm pretty sure Garrick and Riorson were the first marked ones to attend Basgiath, so this man must have outdated them. But if he fought in the rebellion - "Revolution," Tân corrects - he should be dead.  

I complete my assessment. "I don't think I could throw him." 

"You spend hours training on a mat each week." 

Brennan raises an eyebrow and leans closer, as if I couldn't reach out and shake his hand from where he stood before.  

"Why shouldn't I trust him?" I'm conscious of my rudeness.

Liam shifts beside me. 

"He's the Mender." Tân bristles through our connection. 

My dessert reappears in my mouth. I swallow it down. "The Mender?"  

I don't get on with other Menders. They always want to talk about their craft, or how they do what they do. There's a pride that comes with their work that I just don't have. I don't enjoy the process at all. For me it comes with too much pain. So, I spend most of my time at the back of Professor Carr's classes, pretending I'm a lot worse at mending than I really am. The others try to bring me into their 'club' and Nolon, the Mender who works with the Healers, tries to teach me, but I always make sure I fall short of their expectations. It's a safety net. 

But this Mender? He knows who I am and what I can do. I know nothing about him or his limitations. That makes him dangerous to me. 

Brennan withdraws his hand, bringing it behind his back. His smile falters for a split second. I purse my lips, and his amber eyes soften. "As I said, my name is Brennan Aisereigh."

I blink. It's rude not to answer, but what am I meant to say? 'Please don't experiment on me?' 'Please don't ask me to mend anyone else?' Or will he ask even more of me? Will he want me to explain how I do what I do? What will his reaction be when I say I don't know? 

"I understand." He sits in the chair at the top of the table.

Bodhi watches me closely, while Imogen smirks and busies herself with her drink. I don't look at Liam. I'm sure he's annoyed at me - Brennan seems to command respect. 

"You've woken up in a new place," Brennan continues, "with new people, new sights, new signets... Which is why I wanted to introduce myself. See, I'm just like you."

"No one's like you," Tân says. 

"Your skillset," Brennan says, "it's a little larger than mine, yes. Larger than most of us. The last time someone tried to revive someone else, they died. You..." He lets out a breathless chuckle - "you brought a dragon back from the dead."

"From the brink of death," I say, breaking my silence. Under the table, I take hold of the sheet and fist the fabric. "If he was dead it wouldn't have worked."

Brennan raises an eyebrow. "I know from personal experience it is possible to bring a person back from the dead. Only, usually it's a life for a life." 

"Balance," I nod. "Liam?" I swing round, staring into Liam's blue eyes. "He was alive, wasn't he? Tell them he was alive." 

His throat bobs. "Deigh was gone. I couldn't hear him anymore."

"Tân?" I ask desperately. That can't be right. It can't be. There's no way I brought a dragon back to life. 

"Why are you humans so dramatic?" Tân snuffles. "He was still alive. Passed out."

"He was alive," I reply confidently. "Tân, tell Deigh to tell Liam."

I watch Liam's face. Soon, a line appears between his brows. His eyes widen and he nods. "She's right. He was alive." 

"Can you tell Liam I'm uncomfortable and don't want to talk to Brennan anymore," I ask. 

"I am not your messenger. This one I will share, only because I don't trust Sorrengail," she replies.  

"Sorren-" My gaze snaps to Brennan. "You're Brennan Sorrengail?"

I swallow thickly and fight the urge to just leap onto Liam's lap to get away from Brennan. General Sorrengail thinks her son is dead. But here he sits with a new name, very much alive. The truth of the matter hits me like a strong high wind while I'm on the back of Tân - it slams straight into me. I glance at Liam. His mother was killed for her place in the rebellion. We all know it. Liam was marked with a relic for it. 

Liam's eyes widen. A moment later, he stands, takes me by the waist, his hands firming over the bare skin of my side, grazing the underside of my breasts. He slides me into his vacated side of the bench, then takes my place.

"Better?" he whispers. His cheeks have a soft rosy blush.  

"I threatened him," Tân says with a cruel smile in her voice. 

Can I be the only one who thinks this is odd? Why is Liam sitting here with this man? Why are any of them sitting here having biscuits and hot drinks?

Brennan exhales. "I want you to trust me. I've seen the report of what you did. It was a brilliant but flawed approach. Had you had more control, you could have done more. I want to help you control your signet, so you can help more people. Menders are few and far between, and too important to lose to displays like yours." 

I blink. Displays like mine. "You're annoyed I showed emotion?" 

He shakes his head. "You used so much magic, it hurt you."

I want to say; 'No, it was the pain of a wyvern digging it's claws into my skin that hurt. Like I said, I'm not like you.' But I don't. Imogen, Bodhi and Liam know that now. I'm sure they'll add it to another one of their reports.

"Menders are too important to Basgiath, or here?" I ask. My heart races, thumping loudly in my ears. I wipe my sweating palms on the sheet over my knees. 

"I'm not scary," Brennan says, gaze moving over my face. His eyes flick to my lap.

He must know I'm terrified. Why didn't I get dressed properly before I met him? Why didn't I just run for the door? If I had, I might have jumped onto Tân and be safe by now. 

Behind him, Garrick walks into the hall, capturing my attention for a split second. He looks around, before his eyes settle on us. Great. More reinforcements for Brennan. 

"Fenryn?" Brennan asks softly. 

My name on his lips makes me pause. I swallow down the lump that's formed in my throat, pushing it past my heart which threatens to beat out of my chest. I force my face to stay in as neutral and expression as I can manage. 

"We've spent hours learning about how Fen Riorson killed you," I say through gritted teeth, hoping they'll take my fear and upset for anger and think I'm stronger than I am. I think of Plath, of her smiling face. Of her soft voice. If my sister was alive... "I reckon lying, concealing your identity, and doing nothing to stop what happened to a lot of people in your name is pretty scary."

"Fenryn." Liam says my name so quietly I'm not wholly sure I didn't imagine it. 

Brennan's jaw tenses. "It is a complicated situation. One you will come to understand in time."

"Sorry, you do know Aretia burned, don't you?" I ask, interrupting him. "I was born in Aretia. My parents were born in Aretia. My grandparents were born in Aretia. We might have left when I was four, but I still remember the day it all happened. If I didn't have to go to Basgiath, I wouldn't have. And you sit here, alive, and-"

"Look around you," he says, "we are in Aretia." 

I bite my jaw together and flare my nostrils. My hands on my lap turn to claws. 

"May I burn him when I meet him in the field?" Tân asks, her voice filled with excitement and longing. 

She's never burned someone before. She bonded with me at her first Threshing and she was on best behaviour to make sure she'd find a nice match who would last a few years at least. 

Before I can explode into a string of curses, Garrick interrupts, tapping Brennan on the shoulder. They whisper for a moment, then Brennan nods. "Violet is awake," he says to the others around the table in a tempered tone. "We'll continue this later," he says to me.

"No we won't," I say, raising my chin.

Bodhi sighs, standing. "Liam?"

"I've got her," Liam replies. "Come on, let's get you changed," he says once they've all left.

"Don't you want to see Violet?" I ask. "You're close, aren't you?"

Liam's eyebrows twitch together. "No, I can't. Someone needs to stay with you. I'll see her later."

"I remember the way back to the room," I say, nodding to the stairs. "I think it would do me some good to get some space." 

"Promise you won't run away? If you do, I won't be able to help you. They'll think you've gone to tell someone." His nose scrunches, and once again I long to run my fingers through that blonde hair of his. 

"Promise." 

I promised I wouldn't run away, but I didn't say anything about not exploring. Liam leaves, and my feet take me right instead of left. I pad barefoot though long corridors and halls until I find myself in a smaller room filled with toys. It backs on to what looks like the gardens, with high hedges and flowers butting up to the windows.  

"What are you wearing?" asks a high pitched voice behind me.

I spin. A child stands in the doorway, clutching a small toy dragon. Her large round brown eyes blink up at me and I melt. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," I say. 

She appraises me, her gaze flicking over me as she twists a coil of black hair around her finger. I stay still, not wanting to scare her. Or, not wanting her to call for guards or whatever they have here. 

That's when I notice it. A mark which runs from her exposed ankle all the way up her leg. Then I see another, or the same one more likely, poking through her collar. She shifts, pulling her dress back in place, and averts her gaze. 

The fire within me reignites. She's a child. She shouldn't have a relic. All of the marked ones had theirs seared into their skin almost six years ago. She would have been a baby when it happened. She must fear Navarrians.

But she will never fear me. I twist my face into a smile. "I'm Fenryn," I say. Sinking to the floor to sit cross legged, I begin stacking large blocks into an intricate pattern Plath taught me when we were kids. 

"I'm Julianne," she says, joining me on the rug. 

We sit there for over an hour in silence, me stacking blocks, her knocking them down. 

"Do you live here?" I ask when we hear someone calling her name. 

She shakes her head. "I only come when my foster parents need to speak here." 

"Oh," I whisper, nodding. "Should I go?"

"No, don't leave," she says, watching the door. 

A boy appears in the doorway. He can't be more than fifteen, with his rosy cheeks and broad, childish smile, but he has his own relic proudly on display. It weaves across his shoulders, like dragon scales. For the first time, I notice the relics are different, just like riders sigils are different. 

"Is that a..." He points to my sheet.

"Bedsheet, yes," I sigh, "why does everyone keep asking me that?" 

Julianne giggles. "No one wears dresses like that here." 

"Well what do they wear?" I ask, looking between the two.

The boy grins. He raises a hand to beckon me, and Julianne scrambles up, clutching her toy. We follow him together. Julianne tells me his name is Pathric as she slips her small hand into mine. I give her a squeeze and she beams up at me. In an instant, she reminds me of Plath. I bite back the tears which threaten to fall from my eyes. 

"In here," Pathric says, once we've walked up a mountain of stairs. He leads us into a large room filled with clothes on hangers, and armoires. "Right, take your pick," Pathric says, throwing his arms out. 

My jaw drops. "What is this?" I walk over to a beautiful beaded dress.

"Do you want to look ridiculous?" Tân asks, shocking me. 

"I thought you'd gone to sleep," I reply, frowning over at another dress. 

"I just moved away from the others. They were being annoying."

"You're always annoying them, isn't it time they return the favour?" 

Tân hums and I feel her slip away from my mind.

"What can I wear that'll make me not stand out too much?" I ask over my shoulder. "That I could wear back to Basgiath as well?"

Julianne and Pathric share a look, then a smile, then point to the same thing. 

I frown. I'm not sure they're right, but after a few minutes of convincing, I change behind a screen and stand in front of a mirror, sliding my hands down the front of the garment. It's simple, with nice, clean lines which accentuate my shoulders and curve of my waist. The sturdy fabric has been dyed a muted green colour, and near-invisible stitching. 

The thing I'm not sure on is the bare skin which runs in a 'V' down the middle of my chest, from my collarbone to my waist. It's tastefully done. At least, I think so. The upside is, it comes with trousers, and two holsters at my thighs for daggers. I don't have any, but Julianne rummages in a drawer and produces a couple which are blunt, but will do. 

Next, she runs over a pair of flat shoes. "You think I'm a doll, don't you?" I ask. The shoes aren't my size, so she goes off on a hunt, leaving me with Pathric. 

"You saved Liam." It's not a question so much of a statement. He shifts his feet. "Julianne likes you." 

Clasping my hands behind my back, I nod. 

He offers me a tight, sad smile. "And you're a cadet at Basgiath?" 

Again, I nod.

His jaw twitches. For a split second, his shoulders slump. He regains his composure when Julianne returns with a pair of shoes that will fit me. She slips her hand back into mine, and together we trail after Pathric, who says it's almost time for dinner. 

There are so many halls and stairs, that before long Julianne is on my back, talking my ear off about her hoarde of hand sewn animals. Pathric opens a door and finally we rejoin the main entrance hall. Julianne continues to chatter away, swinging her feet while I hold her under her knees. 

"Here I was thinking Basgiath was training me for combat," I chuckle. "I think it was training me for carrying surprisingly heavy children." 

Pathric lets out a boom of a laugh and grins. "Come on, still got fifteen until dinner. Let's go to the gardens."

"Yeah! Gardens!" Julianne shouts in my ear, making me wince.

"Pathric!" Pathric's attention is taken by someone behind us. His face falls and he runs over.

"I'll be back," he shouts to us.

"Gods, where are the gardens exactly?" I ask Julianne over my shoulder. "I don't know how much longer I can carry you." 

"You're lying. I'm light as a feather," she says, swinging her legs. "And the gardens are..." She cups my ear and whispers, "outside." 

"I knew that!" I cry, swinging around and around while she squeals. "Cheeky!" 

"I'm not cheeky!" she says when I stop. 

"I think fifteen minutes of you being on my back has shown you are very cheeky, young lady." 

She giggles again and shoves her dragon toy in my face. "I'll defeat you for that!" she giggles.

It smells like lavender, but I feign a retch and drop to my knees, then fall flat on my face. "You can't use Sir Dragonscales as a weapon!" 

This, of course, spurs her on. I roll over to make it easier for her to attack, and she bounces the toy on my face. I kick my legs and arms and shake my head.

Finally, I slap my hand on the floor twice. "I yield! I yield!" 

"I thought it would be harder than that," she says, sitting up on my chest. 

"Well, it usually is," I say, poking her arm playfully. "To be blunt, Basgiath sucks." 

"Is the food good at least?"

Pursing my lips, I scrunch my nose and shake my head. "Sorry kid, but if this is what you're used to, you're going to be sorely disappointed. There was more flavour in a mug of tea in your dining hall than there was in the turkey they served last week." 

Julianne throws her head back and lets out a small roar of annoyance, then launches herself into my arms for a hug. 

"The dramatics start at an early age in humans?" Tân asks.

"Oh please," I reply, wrapping my arms around Julianne to roll us from side to side. 

"Here I was thinking you'd deserted," Bodhi says. 

"Told you she didn't," Liam replies. They stand above us, Bodhi with his arms crossed, Liam smiling down. 

"What did you make for me?" Julianne asks, sitting up and pushing the hair out of her face. 

Liam blinks at the low cut of my top, but doesn't mention it. From his pocket, he produces a small carved figurine, and a dagger. "It's not done yet, see? I still need to do the face and claws." 

"Will you finish it before you go?" Julianne whines. 

Liam smiles and shrugs. "We're leaving soon," he says to me.

"Back to Basgiath?" I ask.

"Back to Basgiath," he confirms. He lowers his voice and leans down, until his breath whispers across my ear. "Brennan wants you to stay. The others think that's a good idea." 

I turn my face so quick our noses touch. Liam blinks, but doesn't retreat. Riders are adaptable.

I suck in a breath through my nose, ignoring the way my stomach flops at Liam's cedarwood scent. "I'm not staying here," I say. 

"You might have to." Liam withdraws, glancing behind him. "They weren't happy when you weren't in your room."

I look through his legs and see Pathric speaking to both Sorrengails, Riorson, Imogen and Garrick. 

"She was with us." Julianne beams. "She makes great towers."

"You know, I really do," I agree, beaming back. 

"Brennan's right," Bodhi says, a deep set line furrowing his brow. "We can't lose Menders like you. Especially not ones we don't fully trust yet. Who knows what you'll say if you go back." 

"Is Violet going back?" I ask. "Sorrengail, I mean." 

Liam raises a brow and looks up at Bodhi, who shrugs and says, "She's different." 

I place my hands over Julianne's ears. "Would you let me return if I was fucking the leader of the revolution?" I ask. 

Bodhi hides his smile behind his hand.

Liam's jaw drops open. "It's a bit more complicated than that," he says. 

"Then is it because I'm not the daughter of General Sorrengail?" 

Bodhi crosses his arms. "We don't know you, and you don't know us."

"I told you, you keep my secret and I'll keep yours."

"All it takes is one traitor and a revolution crumbles," Bodhi says, all smile gone from his voice. 

"Just so you know, I voted for you to return," Liam says, standing. "So did Bodhi."

Bodhi sighs and wipes a hand over his mouth. "That was before we thought she'd left. She knows too much. Brennan is right." 

"Well," I say to Julianne, dropping my hands from her ears, "you and Pathric were about to show me the gardens, weren't you?"

Julianne nods happily and jumps up, grabbing at my hand. The rush of my angry pulse fills my ears, helping me to ignore Liam's feeble attempt to speak to me, until it's shut out his voice completely.

Chapter Text

Julianne, Pathric and I watch the dragons take off on their return flight to Basgiath. Brennan Sorrengail or whatever his name is now comes to see me. I hide behind Julianne. He says he'll see me after dinner, so I eat dinner slowly, and sure enough he's called away with some war issue so says he'll speak to me in the morning. The walk back to my room is long and nerve-racking. I pretend to go to sleep.

Under the cover of darkest night, I run for the grassy green where Tân waits, her dark green scales near black in the scant evening light.

Thanks to the combination of Tân's extraordinary speed and my mending signet, we can easily fly above the clouds and wind. We catch up half an hour out from Basgiath. 

"They know we're here. They won't attack," Tân huffs, swinging us into a barrel roll through the thick white cloud.

Upside down for less than ten seconds, I hold my arms out and close my eyes, Tân's magic envelops me, holding me in place. That makes me laugh. There's not much that can scare you when you know you'll live even if you die. 

She swings back round and dives impossibly fast, so she can dip her toes in a mass of water. The dragons above soar past, calling out to Tân, who ignores them in favour of gliding along the surface of the lake. I'm glad she does. I don't want to spend time with them right now. 

“Stop complaining they didn't tell you when they were leaving," Tân says. "They could have kept you locked up. Instead they made it easy for you to come back.”

“They could have given me a choice,” I reply, as she launches us back up to the side of the group, who are all wearing their flight leathers. 

My stomach drops at the thought of their reactions to my joining them, so I keep my gaze ahead and switch up my hold of Tân's scales. 

Tân laughs, throwing her head back to look at me. “Are you cold?” 

“No.” I frown. “Why would I be?”

My eyes are protected by a pair of goggles Pathric handed to me before bedtime, as if he knew where I was headed. Otherwise I'm still wearing the green outfit Julianne helped me pick. To some people, this would be insufficient, but the constant warmth of Tân's magic surrounds me as I use it to heal myself from the intense elements. 

“You're flying without leathers," Tân says. "They say that's how you lose a rider."  

I roll my eyes and adjust my grip.  

“Calm, little one. Let's go somewhere they won't tell me off for letting you fly like this.” Tân zooms below, headed to the other side of the mass of dragons. 

“What's wrong?” I ask when Sgaeyl snaps her teeth. 

“No theatrics,” Tân snarls, throwing her wings out so she's vertical, completely still in the sky. The dragons around us fly past, and Tân rights herself, joining the back of the line. “We're almost there.” 

"Huh. Were we meant to keep a low profile? Interesting. Almost as if someone should have told us that instead of leaving without us."

Tân laughs and I grin. 

Liam turns, holding on with one hand to Deigh's red back so he can look at me. I wish he wouldn't. I don't need him singling me out this year just because I saved his life. He owes me nothing. 

"They'll kill you if you give anything away," Tân grumbles.

"I know. Tell them I know." 

“You’ll break your ankles if you keep dismounting like that,” Garrick says when we land. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he stands next to Bodhi, whose brow is more furrowed than I've ever seen on him. 

I narrow my eyes and wince for four steps. “Mended.” I share a look with Tân, who flaps her wings and departs. 

“Menders can't heal themselves that quickly,” Garrick says behind me. 

“Menders can't heal dragons quickly,” I reply without turning round. "And as long as you keep my secret, I'll keep yours." 

"Doesn't sound like a fair trade." Garrick's voice is low and menacing, at odds with the man I've seen on the mat. Or, maybe I wasn't looking hard enough. 

"What do you think they'll do to me if they find out my true signet?" I raise an eyebrow. 

Garrick purses his lips and looks past me. I follow his gaze quick enough to see Riorson nod.

"Fine," Garrick mutters. "Just don't touch Dain Aetos." 

"What? Why would I do that? Why would that even be a worry?" I scoff.

Garrick smiles for the first time in hours.

I let out a long breath when we walk through a corridor and the walls of Basgiath surround me once more. Sliding my hand along the thick stone that surrounds us, I close my eyes and think of Plath. In one of her letters, she told me she used to do this when she arrived back from her flights, uttering a small thanks to Malek for not taking her today. I open my eyes. Liam walks beside me, watching me closely. I narrow my eyes.

Vote or no vote, he left me behind, so I dodge round Bodhi and walk ahead, allowing Riorson and Sorrengail to lead us on. In the sea of black, I stand out like a sore thumb in my green outfit. 

“You break your ankles every time you dismount?” Liam asks, his breath whispering over my upper back. 

I shrug and offer him a nod over my shoulder. “Sometimes. You get used to it.”

“Why hasn't anyone taught you how to dismount properly?”

I shrug again. They have, of course. “I like the way I do it. Have you ever noticed me breaking anything before?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Exactly. See you later.” Dodging out of the line, I  launch my body out of a break in the glass-less windows of the corridor. I jump across easily, rolling through another window below. 

Someone hisses. I know this is a risky move, but I also know from experience it'll only cause my leg to break, and add another ten minutes to my journey. The perk is that I've done it so many times now, I know I won't fall. 

“Rotunda!” Liam calls after me, but I'm running down the corridor and round the corner by the time his words register so I don't reply or acknowledge him. 

Ten minutes later, dressed in a more appropriate uniform, I lean against one of the columns at the rotunda, watching formation begin. 

“Come on.” Garrick motions me over and I join the others, walking in. He seems less angry now, and I think I prefer his face and body a little relaxed. 

Despite my height, Liam towers over me. I follow in his steps to half-hide behind him. 

I'm not close enough to hear or see much, especially around Liam's back, but I find Gayl’s red hair and round face in the crowd. Her relieved grin is everything, and a much welcome sight. The instant Riorson tells us to get back in line. I run for Gayl, who makes room for me in the Second Wing line.

“Gryphons?” Gayl whispers. “I can't believe you saw actual gryphons.” 

I frown. “Tân? Gryphons? They told the truth?”  

Tân explains what Riorson and Sorrengail told Aetos and General Sorrengail, hiding the fact Brennan is alive, Aretia is rebuilding, and they fought Venin at Abetyne. We listen to the rest of the orders and information about the graduating class in silence.

The moment we're released, a heavy weight falls over my shoulders. I roll my eyes at Cohen, another newly minted Second Year in Second Wing who I call a close friend. He leans down and kisses me square on the lips.

“Remember, you said you'd fraternize in second year," he says with a grin. 

My fist connects with his stomach. Gayl and I laugh while Cohen rubs the sore spot. I know he's just pulling my leg. We all started together and promised each other we wouldn't get into relationships or worse, short term flings. Since then, Gayl and Cohen have, as they call it, spread their wings. I'm the one who hasn't. And they know it. They're more on my case about it than Tân is and that's saying something. 

“Yeah, I also thought you'd be dead by the end of the war games,” I joke. 

I didn't really think that. Cohen is strong. He's someone who was born to be a rider. Me? Happenchance. I came here to escape the place I was before. I stayed to find out what happened to my sister. Plath and I weren't close at the end. For a full year she wasn't allowed to contact me, and after that the letters were few and far between. I blamed her then. Now? Not so much.

It's easier in Basgiath. You can pretend the world outside doesn't exist and you can be whoever you want to be. I'm not defined from the horrors I saw before, just the horrors we all face here. Even my age doesn't matter here. Conscripts report at twenty, so most entrants to the riders quadrant are twenty. No one bats an eyelid that I'm slightly younger.

Cohen places his hand to his heart. “You wound me, Fen.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you'll forget I ever existed by the end of the night.” 

“Did you hear?” Gayl links her arm with mine.

Cohen's arm slinks around my shoulders once more and I elbow him in the ribs. He chuckles but doesn't move his arm. 

I'm not sure I want to hear what's coming. “Hear what?” 

Cohen grins down at me. “We. Won.”

“The fuck we did!?” I squeal. "SECOND WING WON THE WAR GAMES!" I scream at Tân through our bond.  

"I know," Tân growls, "shout at me again and I'll eat you." 

Second Wing won. There's a momentary pressure around my heart and lungs. I should have been there, with my new family. I should have helped them. The feeling dissipates when I think of the alternative — Liam dying. 

“Does our win help you change your mind about tonight?” Cohen asks with his charming half-smile. "I could show you a real celebration." 

I guffaw and embrace him, allowing him to lift me. My legs wrap around his waist while he swings me around and around in our usual celebration. 

“No,” I say, laughing as he lets me down to the ground, my arms still wrapped around his waist. “But Gayl might…” 

“Already made that mistake,” Gayl says, rolling her eyes. “Call it the heat of the battle.” 

“You did not!” I gasp, recoiling from Cohen.  

Gayl leans in to whisper. "It actually wasn't that bad."

"Gods, no!" I push them both away from me. "Ugh!" 

The lights twist and turn through the air as I spin on the tabletop, my arm linked through Gayl's. 

They say riders never stop, and it's true. We have five days now until the new recruits join us, and someone said these are the best five days. So far, it's been five hours of solid drinking and dancing. Celebrating the Second Wing win should be a communal job, whether our dragons decide to go somewhere else during war games or not, Septon told me before he charged off to get his things after graduation. We cheered three times to our old wingleader's health to kick us off. 

Whoops and chants urge Gayl and me on until we almost fall off the table, we're spinning so much. Gayl is caught by someone who draws her into a long kiss. I steady myself. A tug pulls me down off the table backwards, until I'm flush against a strong chest. Two arms wrap around my middle. 

I screw my eyes tight and tap my pouting lips. “Malek?” I joke.

The man's laugh is lost to the shouts around us, but I feel the vibrations through my back. His arms are warm around me, and thanks to the buzz of drink which muddles my brain, I find myself pushing further back into his embrace, imagining it's Liam. 

“Guess again.” 

My eyes fly open. Frowning, I swing around. “Oh get lost,” I say, placing both hands onto the third year’s chest. 

“I thought you said no one wanted you,” Tân says unhelpfully. 

“He's a walking disease, that doesn't count." I spin around to find Gayl. “Anyway, I meant someone age appropriate. Twenty-two’s my cut off until I'm twenty.” 

“To think, if only he'd waited two weeks,” Tân chuckles.

I see Gayl’s red hair bouncing out the door with Cohen’s arm flung across her shoulders. That's going to be fun this year. Hopefully they don't get attached. Who knows how long we'll all live. It was Fourth Wing with their six remaining riders who grabbed the Iron Quadrant badge this year. Chances are we'll dwindle even more by the time we get to Third Year. If we get to Third Year. 

I look around for anyone else I know well enough to drink with. There's a smattering of people, but they're all locked in intimate embraces or chatting already. My gaze passes over a load of Fourth Wingers who sit together at a table, knocking their drinks together and shouting something unintelligible. But I don't know them much. Liam sinks into a seat next to Sorrengail. I catch his eye and thanks to the drink in my veins, smile. He beckons me over. 

"You told me to remind you that he tried to leave you at that place." Tân sounds more than a little bored. 

"It's really going to grate on me if you're right half the time," I grumble. 

Drinks table it is then. 

Liam beats me to it. He's ladelling lemonade into a cup when I arrive, and hands it to me with a bright smile. "I'm glad you didn't listen to them," he says, taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Thanks!” I say. I'm too inebriated to stop myself when I spy his relic peeking through the cuff of his wrist. I grab his arm and run my thumb over the edge of the black mark. Having seen a little of Julianne and all of Pathric's, I would have no idea the span. “How far up does it go?” I ask, tracing my fingers up his shirt-clad arm. 

“Collarbone,” he replies, watching my hand. “Want to see?” 

I grin and nod. “Yes please.” 

His smile vanishes and his eyes search mine. “You do?” 

"Is that ok?" 

"Yeah, if you're sure." 

“Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him through the crowd and out the door.

We pass Bodhi, who raises an eyebrow, but doesn't laugh at me this time. I'm chuffed at the improvement. Then again, I could be taking Liam outside to kill him, so I think Bodhi really should be more observant. 

The air is cooler in the courtyard and makes me want to head back inside in case Liam gets cold, but I keep walking, leading him on until we reach a patch of shadow. 

“Not all of it,” I say, undoing his cuff, “I'm not going to make you strip.” 

“Shame,” he jokes, helping me to roll his sleeve up to his elbow. 

There's barely any light, but he's so pale I can see the relic easily. My tawny hand slides over his pink toned skin as I trace the black lines. 

“What do you think?” he asks. 

I shrug and adjust my angle to allow his hand to curl around my waist. He steps closer. Whatever makes him comfortable is fine with me. I know I shouldn't be making a marked one show me his relic, but he offered, and I've always been curious. It's so different to the dragon sigil on my back, or any of the other sigils I've seen on other riders during mat training or in the bathing rooms. 

It's all jagged edges wrapping around his arm, flowing up and round without rhyme or reason. I wonder if it hurt, but I still remember the sting of my sigil being burnt into my back and so don't ask him. I'm sure it did. It must have been excruciating.

“You're really not scared of us marked ones, are you?” he asks, bitterness colouring his words. 

Placing my drink onto one of the stone balustrades, I smile brightly up at him. My second hand joins my first in touching his relic and I shake my head. “All I got from my parents’ deaths was emotional and physical trauma, not prejudice and tattoos.”

His snort warms the air. His hand is still around my waist so his whole arm shakes with my laughter, stilling when I bite my lip and catch his blue gaze. His hair flutters in the wind. My fingers twitch on his arm. What would it feel like if I ran my hand through the locks? I'm sure I've drunk enough to try it and see what happens. The worst he'll do is push my hand away. 

“Little one,” Tân warns. 

“Just one touch.” 

“No, little one. You must ask his permission."   

"Can I-"

Liam shushes me, his gaze caught across the courtyard. Ice floods my veins and knots twist low in my belly at the dismissal. I clasp a hand to my mouth and focus on controlling my reaction. 

"Sorry, there's..." he says, trailing off. "Just one minute." 

Shifting out of his hold, I place my back against the balustrade and blink lazily in the direction Liam’s looking.

Sorrengail and Riorson stand with two men. I can only see them because the they're inside and the candles are lit. If they were out here, maybe Liam wouldn't have noticed... That would have been nice. 

One, I recognise. One, I don't. Liam's shoulders tense. He curls his hands into fists at his sides and narrows his eyes. 

“Who is that with Aetos?” I ask. 

“I'm not sure. I've not seen him before," he mutters. 

I hum. “Oh shit." I stand straight, watching Gayl storm across the courtyard without Cohen, with a glare could rival Tân’s. I run after her, whisper-calling, “I'll see you later," to Liam. 

At the archway into the dorms, I turn back. Liam stands in the same position as before. I doubt he's even noticed I've gone. 

Back to old times then. Well, back to the times of last week. 

A crack of lightning almost makes me duck, which sends me into hysterics. 

"Gods I hope that hit Cohen," Gayl mutters, leading us home. 

Chapter Text

The next days fly by in a blur. Second Wing have had it drummed into us from day one that we need to prepare, prepare, prepare, so that's what we do.

Every waking moment is filled with preparing the bunks, and the supplies we squirrel away and hide to make sure our First Year cadets are able to be healed by us. Move in day is so efficient we have nothing to do for two hours while everyone else moves their bags over.

There's no squabbling between us for whose room is whose. I go to the second from the entrance. Cohen, who has the most conquests, goes to the first. Gayl, beside me. The other two are across the hall. We designated the last remaining room as a free for all, and by the time Aura checks on us we've turned it into a faux common room.

We go through the codex and prepare for our roles as leaders to the newbies, and then at the end of the day, we party. Some, like Gayl, drink more than me. 

Until, that is, the new Vice-Commandant Varrish starts his role and Aura starts to crack down on any and all opportunities for fun we have. Gayl says to ignore even the idea of Varrish and I try to, but Aura's face pales when she tells us who he is, so half my mind is on what additional horrors he could be cooking up. 

That's the downside to having been brought up in a cruel place - you see someone and you know their intent before anyone else seems to. I've not spoken to him, but I know I should worry. I've not seen him, but I know he'll be straight laced and put together. I've not heard of him before, but I know he'll be perfectly cruel. 

Classes resume and we attend those, then return to the common room for some respite after. Others go to the training rooms or library but Cohen, Gayl and I welcome this time of relative peace, and continue to indulge in it. It won't be long until the new cadets are dying all around us. 

I look for Liam and the others during meal times, but they stick to their usual routines and ignore me. It soon becomes clear that most people don't know I was with the group who arrived at Abertyne. Which means, no one bothers me about it. A blessing and a curse. A blessing as I don't have people asking me questions half the time. A curse because it means I'm back to barely speaking to Liam. What happened at Abertyne and Aretia feels like a fucking dream. A confusing and odd dream.

Until one day, Liam stops me after our first Riders Survival Class. Over his shoulder, his friend who always laughs, Gamlyn, I think his name is, bites his lip and ducks his head. Prick. Sorrengail and Matthias stand further back, like they're all backing him up. I shift my feet. I've not said anything to anyone about what happened at Abertyne. They can't be here to... Kill me, can they? No. Surely Liam wouldn't allow that. A threat then? Professor Grady mentioned interrogation. Do they think I'll betray them? My mind runs at a thousand miles a minute as I try and decipher the look on Liam's face. 

I purse my lips and flare my nostrils. From the look on his face, he said something to me. The rushing in my ears was the only thing I heard. Fuck. 

"Sorry?" I ask. "I uh, mind elsewhere. What?" 

"Oh, yeah." Liam leans closer, lowering his voice. "I wanted to say sorry for the other night." 

My heart thumps harder. "What?"

"In the courtyard?" He looks at me as if I've grown two heads. Behind him, his friend licks his lips and closes his eyes, like this is the funniest thing he's seen in ages.

Great. Liam does remember our chat. I was beginning to wonder if I'd made it up. I was hoping I had, at least. Groping his relic and trying not to shove my hands into his hair while my dragon needed to remind me to ask his permission. Gods. If he hadn't been distracted by Sorrengail and Riorson, I would have done what Tân's been telling me to do for months - I would have taken Liam Mairi to an even darker corner and... 

"What do you have to apologise for?" I ask, heart beating uncomfortably against my chest. 

"You ran off." He gives me a charming grin that makes my stomach flop. "So we didn't get a chance to talk."

Is this his way of telling me I was a dick for not sticking around? If it is, it feels a little unfair. Gayl was too caught up in her drunken haze to listen to me when I said I had to go back to the gathering hall, so I just never went back. 

Gamlyn snorts behind Liam, who glances over his shoulder. I follow his gaze, narrowing my eyes.

"I don't have time for this," I mutter under my breath.

I told Gayl I'd meet her at our common room to discuss her plans for Conscription Day. Being squad leader seems to be a three person job if Cohen and I are being roped into all of her initial decisions. Then again, there are only five of us she lives in a corridor with. My jaw tenses. I don't fancy adding the embarrassment of being laughed at to my already long evening agenda.

"Don't worry about it," I say louder, slipping into the crowd. "Seriously, all good." 

Liam

"Go away," I groan, turning to face the wall outside class. Maybe the expanse of stone will come to life and suck me inside for a bit. 

Ridoc manages to hold his laughter in until Fenryn's left this time, which is an improvement on the other times. 

I don't think she'd be this angry at me if I'd actually tried to speak to her after the other night, but Bodhi said we should wait and find out what she said to others. So far so good. She doesn't seem to have said anything. And Septon was a fucking good wingleader, because he took the flack for Fenryn going 'missing' during war games. If Aura's to be believed, Septon swore Fenryn was miscounted and was actually with her squad the entire time. Which means I don't have to worry about Aetos sniffing around Fenryn any time soon. Good. 

"I just don't understand it." Ridoc claps a hand on my shoulder and leads me to where Vi and Rhi wait for us down the hall. I wish he wouldn't, but at this point I might actually have to ask him for help on how to charm ridiculously sexy yet unapproachable women.

"Don't understand what?" The smirk on Rhi's face tells me all I need to know - she saw the whole thing. I wonder if Ridoc's already caught her up. 

"Zynd," Ridoc says, smiling at Vi like she's the one who asked. "Every time Liam speaks to her, it's like his mind stops. I've never seen someone fail at basic conversation as many times as he has when they chat." 

"Ah, it's not that bad, surely?" Vi laughs. 

I shake my head. "It is." Closing my eyes, I rub the bridge of my nose and remember the time she smiled at me in the courtyard and I walked into a fucking pillar. Thank Gods I don't have that problem with other women. 

"Tell them about the other night," Ridoc laughs. 

"Punch him before he can tell them," Deigh growls. He's always been straight to the point I guess. 

"It wasn't that bad, surely?" I echo Vi's words, hoping I'm wrong and it wasn't that bad.

I wrinkle my nose at Deigh's silence. That's a reply all in itself. Then again, I don't think I can stomach another one of his speeches about 'taking a mate'.

I know Fenryn saved our lives. I know I've thought more in the past week about her dressed in a bedsheet than I have about Resson where I almost died. I mean, who has the gall to tie a bedsheet around themselves, show off their entire back, and let me graze their breasts with my fingertips without flinching (not that I've thought about that often... Not at all)? And can still sit there and glare down Brennan-fucking-Sorrengail? She doesn't give a shit about me I'm sure, but she called Sorrengail out and then went off to play with Julianne. And Julianne doesn't trust people easily. 

Fenryn is my fucking hero at this point. My sexy, unobtainable hero for more than one reason. I mean, thank the gods Tân wanted to fuck one of the other dragons and brought Fenryn with her to the fight. Otherwise I'd be dead. 

But my loyalties have been secured to Xaden, Bodhi, and the revolution for too long to just push everything aside so I can pursue Fenryn. I can't. Malek, pursuing her would get complicated. What if she wants more than I can give? 

If she'd even be receptive to me. Ridoc is right. Every time I speak to her, she ends up leaving before we've really had time to connect. It's been like that for a year. 

Reaching into my pocket, I withdraw the small carving I've been working on of Tân. I'm still a few hours out from finishing it, but I reckon it'll be done in time for Conscription Day tomorrow. I can give it to Fenryn exactly one year after I met her, and thank her for saving my life.

I still can't believe she told the story of how we met on the way up to the parapet as if I could ever forget the look in her brown eyes that day. I've not seen so much fear in someone's expression since. And that's saying something at Basgiath. 

"They were outside," Ridoc says, reliving that fucking moment over again for me. Why I ever confided in him, I'll never know. I just hope he doesn't spread past the four of us. "Secluded. In the courtyard. Surrounded by shadows."

Rhi and Vi whistle and laugh.

"She was touching his relic. His hand was on her waist" - Ridoc pauses for a chorus of 'ooooh's - "and what did he do?" Ridoc holds his hands palms up, gesturing for the girls to guess.

Rhi shrugs. "Kissed her and she shoved him away?"

"She wouldn't have shoved me away." I hope. "Look, can we not do this?" 

Vi lets out a breath of a laugh. I'm sure she's reliving that night from the other side - her side. When Xaden and her had their orders and she found out Tairn and Sgaeyl would have to spend seven days apart. Her lightning sent gravel flying. I stepped in front of Fenryn to protect her, only to look behind me and find she was already gone. I must have pissed her off because she didn't return to the party. 

"They were interrupted?" Vi asks. Well, that's one way of putting it. 

Ridoc claps his hands together. "No. Option three. He shushed her and told her to wait while he watched you and Riorson speak to Aetos and Varrish!" 

Rhi and Vi's mouths fall open.

I feel the urge to defend myself. "Yeah, I know it was bad, but she left without saying anything!" 

Even I know it's not a good defence. That moment will go down in history as one of the most embarrassing things I've ever done. Fucking Aetos's. Like father like son, they're insufferable and always getting in the way. But the expression on Vi's face that night was too freaked out for me not to watch. I needed to know if Xaden needed back up.  

"Sorry," Rhi says, eyes wide, "you were with Fenryn Zynd and you chose to watch Xaden and Vi over making a move? Sorry, Vi, no offense."

"None taken," Vi says, crossing her arms. "I'm with Rhi on this one."

"Let me put this into perspective for you, Liam. There are eighty-nine of us left and it's getting more than a bit incestuous," Rhi says as if I don't know. "Except, Zynd has shown zero interest in anyone since being here. You know that, right?" She waits for me to nod. "You got her in the shadows, touching you, and you ignored her?" She flicks her finger against my forehead. "Men are idiots," she laughs, heading off down the hall. 

"To think, you could've been our Squad Leader," Ridoc chuckles, following her. "Top in the class but abso-fucking-lutely clueless." 

"Yeah, yeah." Thank gods they thought I was dead so didn't give me a place in leadership. Don't know how I'd be able to look after Vi and a load of cadets this year. At least this way I can welcome Sloane properly when she arrives. Just have to make hope she gets over the parapet. 

"Liam?" Vi calls over her shoulder. 

I'll try again with Fenryn later. Somehow, I'll say thanks for saving my life. Right now, I need to do my duty to Xaden and protect my friend. "Coming!" 

Fenryn

Conscription Day comes round faster than I thought it would. I dress slowly, taking my time to make sure I miss breakfast. I don't think I can stomach food on a day like today.

In the courtyard, I take a second to look around. Really, truly look around. I've not seen it so empty in the day before, and the silence is overwhelming. There's something eerie about it. Lifeless. Soulless. It takes me back to the day I arrived. 

I'm staring at the sky when Gayl appears at my shoulder. 

"I'm on welcoming duty," she says, "so you are too."

"And that would be?" I ask, following her to the archway which leads to the parapet.

Gayl waves her clipboard. "I've got to check the ones who get to this side. And you have to help me because I drank too much last night."

"Remind me how you got Squad Leader," I laugh, shaking my head. 

Her lips twitch up at one side. I'm glad she doesn't say 'because the other guy died.' Second Wing lost a lot last year, especially our Squad. And I definitely got too attached at the start. I thought we were a family. I didn't realise Basgiath saw us all as breakable until it was too late. 

Soon enough, the cadets begin to arrive, grabbing on to the stone archway, heaving, gasping, and jumping into their new life at Basgiath.  

I remember last year the entrance was less than ideal, so I fix my face and push down everything until all I have left is my smile. 

“Gods, is the ground swaying?” Gayl whines after a while. 

Laughing, I push her against the wall and take her clipboard. “I’ll take that thanks!” 

“Gayl! As I live and breathe.” Cohen wraps his arms around me from behind. "Can't believe you changed everything about yourself just for me."

“She will kill you,” I sing. 

Gayl covers her mouth and runs for the toilet. 

I wrinkle my nose and turn back in time to see a new cadet stumble into the enclosed space leading from the parapet. She misses the step and almost falls flat on her face. 

Diving, I just about save her from the vulnerability of being injured on the first day, and offer her a bright smile. “You'll be fine in a bit.” 

She nods. Staring into the distance, she walks on wobbly legs to the place the cadets are gathering. 

“I like your hair!” I shout after her.

I would have liked to hear something complimentary after I crossed the parapet last year. In my old life I was used to only hearing the worst. It's made me a glutton for even the tiniest praise. Unfortunately I've found Basgiath is the last place on earth you'll hear someone say, "Well done, keep going."

“Her hair’s green,” Cohen says, shaking his head. 

I whack him on the head with the clipboard. “My dragon is green if you didn't remember.” 

“What are you meant to be recording?” he asks, rubbing the spot I hit. 

I shrug. “Absolutely no idea," I lie. There's no way I want to be recording names of cadets. 

“Give me that.” He takes the clipboard before I can secure it. 

Crossing my arms, I watch another nauseated cadet step into their new life. “They have no idea what's coming.” 

“Neither do we,” Cohen mutters, marking something off. “Go find out green hair’s name. I need it for this list.” He approaches the newer cadet and taps his pen on the paper. 

“Gods sake.” I walk over to the cadet whose name I didn't record. She's with two others. They blink furiously as I approach. One even steps back as if I might attack. “Name?” I ask the green-haired one. 

“Yanis Planth.” 

“Fenryn, stop scaring the newbies,” Liam says, joining us. His playful smile makes my stomach flop and I forget it's the second time he's spoken to me since I traced my fingers over his relic. 

“Mount him,” Tân snarls. 

“Leave me alone.” 

“I need her name for the proof of life scroll.” My smile drops when I hear a deep laugh and a pair of strong arms wrap around Liam's middle. I don't like the way my gut twists when Liam's smile broadens into a grin. 

“My cue to leave,” I say to Tân, dodging through the crowd to rejoin Cohen. 

"Ask him if he enjoys women. Then you will only feel jealousy for one portion of the cadets who touch him." 

"I'm ignoring you," I reply.

I give Cohen the name and Gayl returns, looking less peaky. “Bloody lemonades,” she mutters, ripping the clipboard from Cohen's hands. “I swear to Malek if I make it through today, I'll make it through the year.”

“Well, it was nice knowing you.” I don't know why Gayl enjoys tempting fate. Cohen and I clap and whoop as a new cadet arrives. “Second Wing material?” 

“Maybe.” Cohen winces and shakes his head. “Ah, no. Who breaks their leg on the jump down from the parapet?” 

Rolling my eyes, I reach the girl in seconds and wrap my hands around her leg. She tries to buck against my hold but one strong look from me and she stills, her blonde hair flying around her face in the wind. 

“Someone snapped it on the stairs,” she hisses. 

“You walked the parapet with a broken leg?” 

She nods. 

“Must you?” Tân asks. 

“She deserves a fighting chance.” I feel the build of magic from my lower back, feeding out into the injury. 

I heal her in moments, my own mirror injury hidden and healed within a few more. “Who did it?” I ask, eyeing up the cadets who joined behind her.  

“He fell,” she replies. 

"Good. Survive, okay? I'm in Second Wing. Hope you are too.” 

“I thought everyone would be awful,” she laughs. 

I shake my head. “They are. It's brutal. A snapped leg can be a death sentence until you've bonded, so make sure you say it was just a sprain.” 

She nods, her throat bobbing. I return to Cohen's side, successfully hiding my limp. 

“Stop mending everyone,” he says, nudging my arm.

“Better than them dying,” I reply, my happy mood altered irrevocably. 

I still wake up in cold sweats thinking of the day I arrived in Basgiath. Too young to conscript, but running for my life. I had no other escape. Basgiath seemed like a safe haven that first day. I went to the Healers Quadrant first, but they wanted all my details. Details I didn't have. Scribes, same. There was no way I was joining the Infantry. The Riders Quadrant was the only line where a guy took one look at me, and said, “If you make it across the Parapet, I'll make sure they don't know you forgot your papers.” 

What the fuck is a parapet? I thought, following the back of a tall man into darkness. 

A mountain of stairs later, I reached the top and the man turned. With his blonde hair flopping on his forehead, bright blue eyes, chiselled face… he was definitely attractive. Then I saw the dagger in his hand.

“Boots,” he said to the man behind me, who unlaced his and handed them over immediately. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Saving his life,” he replied. “Everyone deserves a fighting chance.” 

“Even me?” I breathed. 

He considered me for a moment, then took hold of my ankle, bringing my foot up behind me. “Even you,” he replied, cutting the same grooves into my soles. 

“Fenryn,” I said, hands shaking at my sides. 

“Liam.” 

I take a deep breath and close my eyes to rid myself of the memory. The parapet changed me. The guy on the desk was right. I survived that. I can survive this. 

“Why is it worse waiting on this side?” I ask no one in particular. 

“You don't have the relief of making it across alive,” Tân snarls.

Another scream echoes through the stone valley. 

“I wish it was raining. Then we wouldn't have to hear it,” Cohen sighs. 

Clenching my teeth together, I open my eyes and watch as another boy jumps down, making him a cadet. 

I join Cohen in another round of applause.

Chapter Text

"Do you want to be my Executive Officer?" Gayl asks me when we're in formation with our allocated First Years. Her voice has all the excitement of a dead bird. That's to say, no excitement whatsoever. 

"Why me?" I ask, shifting my feet. My boots are new and I regret choosing them for the first formation of the year. I forgot how long these things are. Gods, so much talking. 

The First Years in front of us are still a mass of queasy cadets and I feel sorry for them all. I keep thinking about my first year. My first formation. My first line. I shook so hard I couldn't really take anything. It was all a blur of fear and death at this point.

I do remember having a switch places from Fourth Wing to Second though. That was... fun. It wasn't just us getting to know a new formation and leadership and entire Wing, Aura and the others had to do the same. And then they made us switch and be Third Squad instead of Second. Ugh. Gods, such a mind fuck. 

Ergo, I don't think I could do Gayl's job, let alone be an Exec Officer. It's too much responsibility. I wouldn't be able to spend a day with the cadets without wanting to heal them. And sharing my secret - the extent of my signet - is life-threatening for me. I can't just go around healing all the First Years I get close to. 

"Cohen said no," Gayl admits.

"Yeah, I agree with him," I reply, frowning as I hear the name 'Mairi' on the scroll. I roll onto my toes to try and see who it is, but the new cadet is either too short for me to view, or already made it to their section. There's every chance they're not related to Liam. It's just my ridiculous heart skipping a beat every time I hear his name that has me distracted. 

"Why?" Gayl complains. She flicks her red hair over her shoulder. "just say yes, or I'll have to give it to someone else."

"Someone else is right here," Mirabel says, sounding just as annoyed as I would if I knew I was the third choice for a job with only four candidates.

There are five of us left in our squad: Third Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing; and Gayl is already in charge so she doesn't count. And even her leadership needs to be taken with a pinch of salt since she's been relying on Cohen and I to pick up the slack for the past week. If I didn't know Gayl I'd say the pressure was getting to her already. But I do know her. So I know the pressure is getting to her already. 

Even this decision! She should have chosen days ago so we could prepare and get the patch sewn in. 

"Fine. Mirabel?" Gayl asks. 

Mirabel grins and nods. Cohen and I share a look, then turn back to the front just in time for Aura to begin her first speech as a Wingleader. She opens her beautiful mouth and...

All I hear is a dragon. "How far away is the Samara outpost?" Tân asks, forcing me to lose focus on Aura's speech. 

"Far away," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Why do you care?" I know exactly why - Aura heard that's where Garrick is stationed. She only told us because the gossip is rampant in Second Wing that he and Riorson didn't get good placements because they were "dead" during callout. Why does this matter? Chradh is with Garrick. And Tân wants Chradh. "I thought you didn't have a mate." 

"I don't," Tân sulks. 

I count in my head for ten beats and sure enough, Tân fills the silence. "Chradh is too stubborn! I'm too young!? I wasn't too young last-"

"Don't finish that sentence," I warn. A shudder wracks through me. It was... Heated. "And you are too young. You talk to me like we're friends. I'm your bonded rider, not another dragon." 

Tân grumbles. "I see everything you do." 

"Not everything, and you only know what I tell you." 

"Runner. Fourth Wing," Mirabel declares, taking my attention away from my sulking dragon. I'm sure the others don't have this issue. The six dragons who just landed on the wall all look like they know what they're doing. Why doesn't mine? 

"And there goes Third," Cohen sighs, when two more First Years join the first runner. 

"Hold," Gayl calls to our cadets. They, surprisingly, listen to her. 

We all turn to watch. I groan and wrinkle my nose. Why do they come here if they're just going to run? This is voluntary. I understand me being freaked out last year - I didn't think about what I was doing, I just needed to run away and chose the only option I had. But these people chose to do this. They crossed the parapet. They expected to bond with a dragon. How can they be terrified of the dragons now they're here? 

A new dragon, orange with only one eye, steps down from the wall which houses the six. I know all the Wingleader's' ones and Panchek's from the past hear, but this one, I don't. Well, here we go. I close my eyes. I don't fancy watching what I know is coming. 

A scream fill my ears. Another joins it. And a shout. This is wrong. No one would be shouting. I open my eyes. The orange dragon it's... it's too low. Someone shouts again. Fire churns in the dragon's mouth, crackling and rolling over its tongue. The initial blast of heat before the fire comes feels too close.

Someone grabs at my back. Gayl goes down. Cohen jumps to the left, straight past me. 

I stand alone, frozen to the spot, staring as fire flows out of the dragon's mouth.

I feel my arm burn. The skin on my bicep melts away and I'm in agony. The heat is so strong it clogs my lungs and grips my chest in a voice until I can barely scream. It's enough to wake me up and drive me to the ground. 

"Tân!" I shout for her, gripping my elbow in case my whole arm drops off. It feels like it might. "Tân!" 

Pressure builds in my lower back, growing and growing until I can't stand it anymore. It flows out, all in one moving mass, straight to my arm. The fire continues over head. I bite down on my fist to stop from screaming as my arm mends itself. Pain is something I'm used to, but not like this. This is like the pain I endured to save Deigh.

By the time the dragonfire stops, shakes wrack through my body but my arm looks like it could have just been lightly singed. I'll have to deal with the rest later if I can. 

I look around, coughing, grabbing out for my squadmates. "Gayl?" 

"Oh gods!" someone cries. 

The screams continue, cutting through the buzzing in my ears. I stand slowly, staring in horror at what's next to me. Next to all of us. Where there should be people, there's a mass of still burning embers, scorched gravel, and a few body parts I don't want to identify. 

Third Squad. So many of them are gone. Connor. Oh gods. Analid!? They were just there, on the other side of Cohen. And now they're not. Now they're just cinders. My heart jumps to my throat. Cohen! He should be on my right. But he... I look down. He jumped over me. Not to save me, but to save himself. 

Returning the favour, I step over Cohen's legs to reach what remains of Third Wing. I drop to my knees at the husk of what used to be Analid. I place my shaking hand over where her boots should be. Analid and I studied together in the library half of last year. Always the first to get there, the last to leave. We had so much to catch up on. A library-only friend, but a friend all the same. 

"You can't bring her back," Tan says, her voice filled with the same mournful longing I feel deep in my chest. 

Someone calls out across the remaining riders. I ignore him, and place my hand on the ground. It's still hot. Still uncomfortably hot and I feel my hand begin to burn. Tân's magic feeds out from my sigil, mending me as quickly as I burn. I tune out the pain. 

An arm wraps around my middle, hauling me to my feet. I try to fight the hold but can't muster the energy to - it's all been taken by mending. 

"Get back in line," Cohen hisses in my ear, pulling me back into place. 

A man, with pale, creepy eyes, a perfect uniform, and boot-polish black hair stands at the podium on the dias. His mouth is moving but I can't hear a word he's saying. 

All I can hear is the pounding rush of blood through my ears. Gayl slaps my arm and I stand straighter, blinking furiously. What the actual fuck just happened? Am I right? Did one of leadership's dragons really just...

"Calm, little one. Calm."

"How?" I can't catch my breath. My chest moves so fast I feel like I'm wobbling. 

"Breathe."  

"Who was that?" I whimper. "What was that?" 

"I only know of him," Tân says.

"What do you know?" I stare at the orange dragon as if he'll burn us all again if I look away. 

"Bad things." 

"Runner." I shout the word in my head, panting, trying desperately to form the word out loud, to tell someone, anyone to get down because I'm sure the orange will attack again. My vision swims and the blur of orange moves. 

"Gods, no," I whisper. Not again.

Two thumps sound behind us. More First Years start to run. "No!" I try to shout, but my voice is carried away in the sea of voices screaming and shouting. 

This time, Cohen tackles me to the ground and we look up at the most enormous black dragon. Tairn. Sorrengail's bonded. Thank fuck. Every dragon worth it's scales is terrified of pissing off Tairn and his mate. Even Tân, who's reckless, bows down to a snap of Sgaeyl's teeth. And I think the orange fucker just pissed off Tairn. 

Tairn's black scales seem to draw all the light away from us, his body and wings cutting out the sun above. His chest moves and he opens his mouth. I roll over to cover Gayl's ears. She, in turn, holds her hands over an unconscious First Year's ears. 

Our instincts were right. We're as close to the middle of the formation as we can be, so Tairn's roar is deafening. 

I cry out as my ears pop and burst and the buzzing ceases, replaced with a whooshing, like I'm submerged underwater. Something trickles down my neck. Blood. 

"Heal later," Tân says, "this could get worse." 

I allow a relieved smile to tilt the sides of my mouth. If I can hear Tân, I can still hear something. My happiness is short lived when Cohen says something to me and I can't hear a damned thing. Fuck!!!!

We stand on shaking legs once the orange dragon is scared off and Tairn has left. I heal my ears in time for Panchek to finish his speech. 

"Is he allowed to do that?" Gayl's hisses beside me. 

"If he did it on purpose, it'll be like someone gave Jack fucking Barlowe a command," Cohen replies from my other side. 

My hands shake at my sides. I curl them into fists to stop the uncontrollable movements but it doesn't work. I loosen my grip, take a deep breath, and will my body to stop reacting like this. 

I should be cool, calm and collected. So why do I feel this impending sense of doom and fear twisting together in my belly, driving bile to my mouth. Oh yeah. A dragon just set fire to the protected ones - those of us who have bonded.  

And not just any dragon, the mother-fucking Vice Commandant's dragon by the looks of things. Which means Basgiath is going to be worse than ever. Cohen is right. We have no idea what's coming for us. Between this and the threat of interrogation and/or torture this year, I'm almost beginning to regret my decision to run from-

"You'll never regret your decision," Tân says. 

"Almost. I said almost." 

I blink furiously and hope the tears now falling from my eyes are mistaken for irritation from the displaced gravel or previous dragonfire. We're meant to die in battle after First Year. Aren't we...? But those riders in Third Wing will never see graduation. 

Third Wing. 

Oh gods. They were so close to us. How close were they to Fourth? I look over, but from my angle I can't see if Liam's still there. I don't know who was smoked.  Gods, please let Liam be there. By the sounds of things death by dragonfire is a pretty definitive way to go. 

If he is gone, I'll bare it. I'll push any worry down deep inside. It's just a crush and I've lost so many people in the last year - I can deal with the loss. It's just he represents hope for me. And it's the hope that feels worse, filling my chest with an ache to run over to Fourth Wing and check he's alive. See if he needs any help. 

Gods. I groan aloud and close my eyes. We don't even speak, yet I'm worried he'll have been killed by a fucking one eyed dragon?

"Mairi is alive," Tân supplies. 

I let out a long, shaking breath, stand straighter and open my eyes. "Thank you." 

I scan the remainder of Third Squad. They still have a lot of people, I was too close to see it. Ahead of us, one of the remaining Claw Section First Squad cadets stands, shoulders shaking. Her clothes are almost falling off her, burnt at the seams and charred an even deeper black than the Rider black we spend our lives shrouded in.  

The moment Panchek finishes his speech and dismisses us with a frown, I run to her side. She starts to fall, so I grab her hand and wrap an arm around her waist to lead her slowly to the ground.

Half her hair is gone. And from the smoke coming off her scalp, I don't think it was an active choice. I brace my knee behind her back to hold her upright. She leans heavily against my shoulder and stares. Her hands are burned. I heal those in a matter of seconds. I can't do her scalp or face yet, lest someone finds out my secret - it'll be hard to hide my own hair falling out or my cheek scarring and healing itself. 

"You'll be okay," I whisper, letting her burrow deeper into my arms. 

She has a burn further up her arm, underneath a piece of fabric which falls away when she shifts. I place my hand there and focus all of Tân's power.

Nothing happens. I blink, and try again. Still, nothing. 

"Fuck. Did I use too much to mend myself?" I ask, feeling the cadet's shakes diminish a little. 

"No, little one." Tân's voice is filled with sadness this time, as if saying the words has a vice around her chest and throat. 

"Oh." I bite my bottom lip between my teeth to stop my tears from falling. "I will commend your soul to Malek," I whisper, tucking the cadet further into my embrace. Her fingers scratch against my vest. I move my hand and she takes mine in hers. 

I don't let her go until she's taken her last, shaking breath, and then I lie her on the ground, press her hands to her chest, and work at mending her clothes. I can do that at least. Tracing my hands over the fabric, I watch it knit together. In death, as in life, people deserve their dignity. Even if she will be burnt once again. I hope her family comes for her things. I understand why some don't, but it was a cathartic experience, picking up Plath's belongings when she died here.  

I finish my work, sniff, stand, and make my way back over to Gayl, who's attempting to wrangle our First Years up to the dorms. None of them seem to want to go, and I don't blame them. I don't blame them one bit. A dormitory filled with other people whose only rule on not killing you is; 'not when you're sleeping' is hard, let alone straight after a load of people are killed by a fucking dragon. 

I understand why they run now. It is different. I've become desensitized to it all. But that's my mistake. This never lets up. A dragon bond doesn't give you safety. 

"Nothing you could do?" Cohen asks, slinging his arm across my shoulder. It takes me a beat to realise he's speaking about the cadet I helped. 

I shake my head. "Shock, I think. She had some burns but not enough for..." I don't see the point in even continuing the sentence. Cohen's not listening to me, he's craning his neck, looking for someone in the crowd. 

I stumble to bed alone and lie there, until the whimpers and cries I can hear through my open window die down. Then, I sleep. 

Chapter Text

“Hurry,” Tân complains.

“I am hurrying,” I snap. I look over my shoulder to make sure I've not been followed. Being outside after curfew isn't good at the best of times. Let alone now. I was in bed, tucked up and sleeping, but when a dragon orders you up, there's not much you can do. 

I wrap my arms around myself and keep moving. My nightdress and boots aren't the best walking gear, but Tân doesn't take ‘no, my clothes are still drying from the wash after a fucking one eyed dragon murdered a shite-tonne of us and I got a cadet's blood all over me' as an acceptable answer to not meet her. 

“Hurry.” 

“Gods sake!” I stumble on a tree root and still, staring at the ground as if that'll make me any quieter. 

I continue on, walking as silently as I can across the dark grass, slipping and sliding on the dew to try and hide my footprints. 

Whispers sound ahead of me. My heart jumps to my lungs. I wipe my sweating palms on the scant fabric covering my thighs. I don't need a cloak for warmth, but maybe I should have worn one for anonymity's sake. Meeting people in the dead of night has never really been an issue before, so I'm not entirely sure why it is now. 

“Keep going,” Tân snaps when I stop for a moment. 

“I don't know who's there.”

“I do. Keep going.” 

I round a tree and stumble upon what I can only assume is a ritual sacrifice. All of the attendees wear the standard black Basgiath cloaks. They're all dressed in black underneath too, and their hoods are so low I can't immediately see their faces. 

I suck in a breath and frown. “What are they doing?”

“Just keep walking. Go through them if you have to.” 

“Fenryn?” Liam asks, pulling off his hood. 

Oh. He's there. He's alive. And he doesn't look charred or burnt or injured. My mouth tips into a grin of relief and I wave. I can't let him know how much it means to me to see he's fine. I can't be vulnerable. “Who're you sacrificing?” I ask as brightly as I can manage. Now that I know he's here, I'm sure there's no real threat. Unless that one eyed dragon turns up... 

"He won't," Tân says. 

Liam bites his lip, his gaze drawing up and down me. Yup. Definitely underdressed. 

“Why is she here?” someone hisses, drawing me out of my internal battle not to go over to Liam's side.  

“She has a name,” I retort, drawing my hands behind my back so I can wring them nervously in peace. Vulnerable, nervous gestures like mine should be hidden in public. It's better that way. 

“You’re not marked,” the cadet spits, eyes dragging over my body.

My nightgown ends at my mid-thigh, so my arms and legs are essentially on display and he's right - I don't have a relic. There's no hiding that I'm not one of them. And I'm assuming they're all marked, if his reaction is anything to go by. 

“And," he adds, "if you were one of us you’d be cloaked.”

“Do you want to see my back too?” I quip. I've definitely worn less around more people but something about the upturn of the cadet’s nose makes me want to glare at him.

“Little one. Focus.”

Fine. “I came for a moonlit walk," I explain. "Not my fault your meeting isn't as clandestine as you wanted." 

“This is Fenryn,” Imogen declares, lowering her hood to show off her shock of pink hair. “She knows more of our secrets than you do. She won't say anything about this.” She looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Er, yeah, I won't say anything," I confirm. "What is this?" I ask Liam.

He doesn't get to answer my question. 

"I know you. You're the one who held Alyssa," a voice calls. The sea of black doesn't move so I have no idea of who it was, and I have no idea if I've ever met an Alyssa either. I shrug. 

“Why did you go for a midnight walk in a nightdress?” the voice adds. Still, no one moves.  

My jaw tenses. “My dragon called me and she doesn't take no for an answer.” 

There's a murmur. 

“Bodhi says young dragons are reckless. Is yours young then?” a cadet with green hair says from the front of the group, bringing her cloak down so I can see her face. I think I recognise her from the parapet but I can't be sure. 

I cock my leg and lean my weight on the other.  “How old are you?” I ask Tân, closing my eyes so they'll know I'm asking her. 

“Twenty,” she growls. 

“You know Chradh won't go for a young dragon, don't you?” 

The snap of her teeth rings through my mind. "He already has." 

I open my eyes. “She's not happy with you for asking so I'd watch it around her teeth, but she's twenty.” 

The cadet's eyes widen. 

“What's it like having a dragon who's younger than you?” another with blonde hair asks, de-cloaking. I think I recognise her as well, but who really knows? I'm not intent on learning names until at least after Threshing. Even then, I think I'll wait until after the bonded have survived, or the unbonded have resigned themselves to trying again next year. 

Bodhi's sigh reaches my ears. He rubs his chin and I know I'm interrupting something important. I'm sure he's something high up in Fourth Wing so I think he could order me back to my bed if he wanted to. I have the feeling he won't. 

“List,” Tân says.  

Gods, that fucking list! Tân's been updating it all year and I still have yet to find out why. It's like a threat she likes to hold over people, via me.  “What's your name? For Tân’s list.” 

The blonde’s throat bobs. “Sloane.” 

I close my eyes again. “Don’t eat her, she asked nicely. When's your hatching day?”

“Before yours.” 

I shake my head and blink at Sloane. Liam stands slightly in front of her now, one arm crossed over her body. He's protecting her, so she means more to him than the others. His girlfriend maybe. My stomach twists uncomfortably. I wish my body wouldn't react to him as much as it does now. It never did before I saved his dragon. 

“Tân says her hatching day was before mine,” I say, trying not to show my disappointment at Liam's unavailability.

I wouldn't have done anything with him anyway. He's not shown any interest and I've learnt I'm pretty shit at picking up signals. Why can't people just say 'I like you," and get on with it? When they do touch me or try to kiss me it's a joke like Cohen, or they're drunk and that means nothing. 

I sigh and shift my hips. “Don't worry, you're on her ‘don't eat’ list.”   

Sloane lets out a slow exhale. 

“Yeah, but you started at Basgiath at twenty,” another girl says. Her brown hair is cropped on one side, long on the other. “So you're older than her. Dragon age is the same as human age,” she explains as if I don't know that already. 

I purse my lips and stare the girl out. I just know Tân is making the same face as me. Though from her blank expression, the girl still doesn't seem to understand. 

“You can volunteer younger than twenty,” I say, crossing my arms. 

“I'm bored. Finish speaking,” Tân snarls.

“Can you be less rude, please?” 

“Not for the Riders Quadrant. It's in the Codex. You have to be twenty.” The brown haired cadet smiles proudly. The boy behind her claps her on the shoulder like she's done a good job. 

“Oh, shit,” I say, straightening. I turn my head and listen for Tân, but she doesn't say anything so I guess that means she had no idea either. “Well. Fuck me. I didn't know that.” I turn to Imogen, Liam and Bodhi. “Can you add that to the list of things I don't want leadership to find out?” 

“What?” Liam's bemused smile fades when I don't laugh. “You're actually nineteen?” 

“Almost twenty,” I say. The bell toll rings out from Basgiath behind me. I glance over my shoulder. 

“You're crazy. You volunteered at eighteen!?” Imogen says incredulously. 

I scoff and raise my hands to my shoulders in a defensive move. “Well, it was either run away and join the Riders Quadrant, or stay at the—” No. I've not told anyone about that place. I'm not going to start now. I cover my eyes with my hands. “This is why they need to just give people the Codex before they join! How was I meant to know there was an age cut off?”

“Your parents must have told you,” Sloane says, more care in her tone now. “To prepare you for Conscription Day.”

Damn it, why does she have to be nice? Why can't she be one of those horrid people I can just learn to tune out and ignore? The nice ones get to me. I want to help them. I want to befriend them. But if she's with Liam, I don't want to like her. It'll be easier if I don't like her. I can use that as an excuse to keep my distance. Because I'm not in the business of taking what isn't mine. 

I shake my head and brace against the tree beside me. “Dead people don't really talk.” Plath knew. “Why didn't Plath tell me?” I mutter. 

“Plath?” Sloane asks. 

Fuck me she's got good hearing. But why won't she stop asking me questions? “My sister.”

“She’s a rider?” 

“Was. Died in her third year.” 

"Stop letting her be nosey. I called you here, not her.” Tân growls. “Keep walking.” 

“Tân,” I admonish. 

“They are taking their time,” Tân grumbles. “I need you.” 

Ignoring the waves of nausea thumping against the insides of my stomach and mouth at the idea that I've broken a gigantic, collosal, mahoosive codex rule, I wave my hand. “Reckless dragon is getting impatient for me. If you're going to start the meeting, go ahead, I'll just go round. Fuck. If Varrish finds out.” I repeat the last in my head. 

“He won't.” Tân sounds overly confident which isn't always a good sign.

“He might.” 

I ignore the marked cadets who whisper to each other. Bodhi starts the meeting, silencing them all with a single word. Or, they're silenced by Imogen's glare. One of the two. I start to edge around the group. 

Three or four steps in, Liam whistles and, catching my eye, nods to the trees. A momentary flash of amber draws my gaze. Tân, with her dark green scales, is camouflaged by the black sky and trees around her. She flexes her claws and I know it's really her. No one else notices her in the line of trees. 

“Stay still,” I say, “they think your legs are tree trunks. You don't want to scare them.”

“Your mate can see me,” she says, obviously impressed. 

I glance at Liam, whose gaze is fixed on Tân. “Not my mate.” 

“Why will you not mount him? You have forgiven him for leaving you behind. Enjoy the spoils of your kindness.” 

“No. I saved his life. There's a power imbalance.” 

“He saved yours three times. Offer yourself.”

“No.” 

"What happens when the dragons decide to murder us?” someone asks. 

“The dragons will test you,” I answer automatically. Gayl asked me for help to prepare a speech for the First Years at Threshing, and we've been practicing so much that I know it back to front and inside out. “Because they need to know you're worthy of riding them. Stay calm. Be good. Be decisive. Don't be a dick. You'll be fine.” 

“Is that your professional opinion?” a cloaked figure snaps, his voice angrier than it needs to be. “Most of Third Squad died today because of one dragon. And you didn't even know there was an age limit for this!” 

I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat. I understand his feelings. Still, Tân’s unimpressed growl fills my mind. 

"Tân?" 

"Insolence. How dare he speak to you like this." 

“Liam,” I warn. Tân's been on the warpath in my mind since the incident at formation. She thinks she should have helped more. No matter how many times I say, "there's nothing you could have done to protect me," it's not enough. 

“No one move. No one scream. Just wait,” Liam commands. “Do. Not. Move.” 

Tân rises to her full height, steps out of the treeline, and dips her head so she can blink her amber eye at the cadet who was rude to me. She huffs warm air over his head, making his cloak fall off and ruffling his hair.

There are a few whimpers, but I'm impressed there aren't more considering what happened at formation. The rest of the group stand stock still, staring at Imogen, Bodhi and Liam whose eyes are fixed on Tân. Their dragons aren't here, and there's not much they can do against mine. Tân could breathe fire and take out the whole lot of unbonded cadets without causing any issues with leadership. Stupid Codex. 

"Tân, you're scaring them," I say out loud to show everyone her actions aren't the same as mine. 

Tân sniffs. Moving her head slowly, she nudges two cadets out of the way. She waits for them to scramble off, so I think she's going as gently as she can manage. She sniffs this way and that, then hones in on a tall, broad shouldered cadet in the middle of the group. 

He — I assume it's a he — stares ahead. Tân opens her mouth. Even I gasp for a second. "Tân!" I cry. 

“Wait,” Tân says. 

“Just wait,” I say out loud, holding out my hand. 

The murmurs and whimpers subside for a moment. Bodhi and Imogen are at the edge of the group by now, putting their bodies between the cadets and Tân as much as possible. Liam still stands with Sloane.

Tân hooks a tooth into the cadet's cloak, then pulls up. He seems to understand what she wants as he quickly removes the cloak from his shoulders. 

He's definitely male. 

“This one would be a good mate,” she says to me, dropping his cloak over the head of the woman beside him. 

I drop my hand. “For fuck’s sake, no,” I say out loud. How can she be thinking about sex at a time like this?!

The cadet Tân’s chosen blinks at me. Uncovered, his face is quite appealing - strong lines, bright green eyes shining against his tanned complexion. And his arms are toned and strong already, even without a year at Basgiath under his belt. I can see what Tân means. He’s definitely what I would consider. 

Heat courses through me; uncontrollable heat which makes me blink furiously. I want to rub my thighs together but I'm sure that'll give the game away. 

“Yes.” Tân nudges his shoulder and he turns around in a slow circle. “He is strong. I can tell you think he is viable.” There's a triumphant smirk in her voice. 

“I said no,” I say out loud. “Stop this,” I say to Tân through our bond. I gasp as the heat leaves my body. “I can't believe you were trying to control me.” 

“I would have stopped once you approached him.” 

“Don't do that again.” 

Tân ducks her head. Huh. Maybe she does listen to my commands sometimes. 

“Are you telling her not to eat him?” a cadet calls, her voice breaking mid-sentence. 

I shake my head. “No.”

“Then what?” Imogen snaps. "Stop her from toying with us." 

Tân growls and her lips curve into what I know is a smile. A Malekish smile. “Tell them.” 

“She's getting involved in something she has no business being involved in,” I say, crossing my arms.

“I will eat him…” 

“She thinks I should mount him,” I call, glaring at my traitorous dragon.

A smattering of laughs ring out, silenced by the claps of hands over mouths when Tân huffs a line of hot air from her nose.

“What?” Imogen asks, frowning at me. “Mount?” 

“She thinks I should have sex with him," I reply through clenched teeth. 

Liam's eyes widen and he turns to look at Tân. He must be concerned that I'm going to take advantage of one of his wards. 

I shake my head. “I said no.” 

The cadet Tân’s still sniffing raises his eyebrows. His worried mouth widens into a broad smile and he shrugs. “I mean I wouldn't say no. Life is short."  

A smirk tugs at my lips. “Unfortunately I'm not into First Years.” I don't say: they have a habit of dying, because formation kind of proved we all have a habit of dying. 

“I'm pretty sure it's me who would be need to be in to you,” he retorts.  

“Yes, this one,” Tân says knocking her nose against his hand. 

“Don't fist bump him!” I call incredulously as warmth rushes to my cheeks and down to my lower belly. I bite my tongue between my teeth and shake my head to hide my embarrassed smile. 

Tân raises her claw above him, pointing down. “Mount.” 

I shake my head. “I’m not going to fuck someone who's been ordered by a dragon.” 

“Good,” Liam huffs. 

Sloane snorts, her shoulders shaking as she clasps a hand to her mouth and tries to be silent. 

Tân’s head snaps up. “Who was that?” 

“Sloane,” I answer out loud, to warn the girl as well as point her out to Tân. 

Tân growls. “His girlfriend?” 

“Maybe. I'm not sure.” 

“Sloane is my sister,” Liam says, eyeing Tân as he steps around Sloane, protecting her with his entire body. "You protected Deigh. For his sake, please don't take Sloane." 

Tân’s tongue rolls out of her mouth and she nods. “Sister. Good. Thiort will like her.” 

Relief swirls inside me. I beam. “Don’t worry,” I say to Sloane. “She knows a dragon who she thinks will like you. Just make sure you're alive at Threshing.” 

Sloane swallows and looks over her shoulder at Tân, then seems to realise her mistake and lowers her gaze. You're not meant to look greens in the eye for a reason. Luckily for those around us, Tân knows she's breaking the rules by bringing me out here for a meeting. She's not going to bring attention to us by breathing fire. 

“This means you can mount your mate instead.”

“Stop!” I shout, eyes wide. “No.” At least she doesn't try to use our connection to turn me on again. Gods, I wish that wasn't a sentence I ever had to think.

The cadet Tân chose shrugs. “I can honestly say I would be a very happy volunteer.” 

“She’s not talking about you anymore,” I reply. I try not to look at Liam, whose back is to me. 

Liam looks over his shoulder, his brow furrowing. I look at him and shrug. No one should look that good frowning. I take a deep breath and swallow. 

“Stop it,” I say to Tân, feeling the heat rising through me again. 

“That is not me,” she replies.  

“Just stop scaring everyone and let me see what's wrong,” I bristle. I don't want to accept that the one being turned on incredibly is me, and it's by a simple look from Liam. That's too dangerous. Too vulnerable. 

Tân moves slowly between cadets. With her tail in the air, she looks a bit like a human stepping around toys. It almost makes me laugh, but I focus on calling instructions to her and the cadets so no one accidentally gets crushed.

She reaches me and leans part of her gigantic jaw on my shoulder. I rub her chin and use her heat and weight to ground me - my pulse still races at the realisation I've broken yet another rule of the Codex by being under age. I can't let Varrish find out. He doesn't seem the type to take that kind of thing lightly, if formation was anything to go by. 

“Where does it hurt?” I whisper. 

Drawing back, Tân raises her front right foot. I duck round to inspect it. 

“Ugh, yeah, that's a big one,” I say, gently tugging at a branch sized thorn stuck between her scales. 

I decide to take advantage of her want to keep me safe. Widening my eyes, I gasp and look to the sky behind her. Half the recruits turn to stare at the same time Tân does, her large head whipping round. As quick as I can, I grasp the branch and pull it straight out. 

Her whole body stills, and she turns her head slowly, inch by inch back to me. 

Liam steps closer. I hold out a hand in what I hope is a “stay there” gesture and hide the branch behind my back. 

“All good,” I say with a wide smile plastered to my face. I don't think she'd do anything as rash as kill me for my obvious insolence, but I don't trust anything anymore. 

Tân lowers herself to the ground, growling at me. 

“You know I had to,” I say, raising my eyebrows and tilting my head. 

She sniffs, leans forward, and looks down until her nose is almost on the ground. Placing my forehead against the scales between her eyes, I stroke down her long face. We stand like this for ten of her breaths, just like she's taught me. It calms her and shows us both we can slow down for a minute. “Sleep well my love,” I whisper, stepping back and holding out my palm. “But stop telling me who to—” 

“Mount the tall one tonight,” she interrupts. 

I roll my eyes and shake my palm in the air to remind her I'm waiting. “They're both tall.”

“Deigh's rider.” 

I fight the urge to look at Liam. “Is that an order?” 

“Merely a suggestion.” 

“We haven't even kissed. He could hate me.” 

“Humans are so complicated. Why must you kiss? Why does hating matter?” 

She moves forward and opens her mouth. I hear a multitude of sucked breaths. Tân's tongue lolls out and she licks my hand, then sits back on her haunches and takes off just as silent and invisible as she arrived, disappearing into the night with unnatural speed and agility. 

“She called you here to get a thorn out of her foot?” someone asks, breathless. 

The cadet Tân wants me to mount crosses his arms and winks at me.

Before I get into any more trouble, I ask, “Name?” 

“Sammet.” 

“What wing are you in?” 

“First,” he says. 

I nod. “Mairi, control the First Years." There's not much Liam can do, being in Fourth Wing, but Bodhi is higher leadership and my command might filter through. "And a lesson for you all. Not all the dragons are like Varrish's. Some are stubborn, some are kind, some are decisive. Some, like Tân are a bit too co-dependent,” I say, glancing at the group, avoiding Liam's eye, “or… heated. But like you said. She's young and reckless, so I have to be the strong one who's always in control."

Turning to the treeline, I slink away into the night, leaving them to it. 

“When are you in control?” Tân asks. 

“Just give me this one. I sounded cool.” 

“You sounded like an idiot.” 

Oh for fuck’s sake. The bell rings out again. 

"Happy birthday, little one." 

"Thank you." 

Chapter Text

“Where is she?” I ask, frowning around the mats. It's assessment day, which means Gayl should be here to watch her cadets fight their bouts. Only, she's nowhere to be found. I'm not really in the mood either, but I'm not a Squad Leader, so who cares? 

All I need to do is keep my head down and hope Varrish never finds out I'm the same age as the First Years. 

“I guess I'll step up?” Mirabel whispers, rolling down from her toes when she finishes assessing the doors. “I don't know her speech though."

“Shit. Neither do I."  

Thanks to Third Wing being torched, we have less cadets this year, which means less bouts, which means less mats, which means we're all within more immediate distance of each other. There's no hiding in the corner today. 

Liam, Sorrengail and Matthias stand at the next mat along with a Second Year called Nadine who I remember from when she was in Third Wing. They all seem ready to turn and watch if one of Second Wing's cadets decides to fight one of theirs. 

It's almost hard to think I saw Liam in a cloak out in the grounds just hours ago. He looks as awake as anything, while I'm tired, grouchy, and ready for this whole spectacle to be done. 

Seeing him last night seems to have had immediate positive and negative effects. Positive: he smiled at me this morning at breakfast. I didn't know what to do, especially when Gamlyn snorted, but Liam smiled at me and it made me feel like a teenager again. Negative, he seems to watch what I do now. I'm not sure if it's a good thing, or if he's assessing me and my silence. 

From two mats away, Professor Emetterio raises an eyebrow. By now, all the other squads have spoken to their cadets and given them a run down on what they're doing here today. Our cadets look around, obviously trying to eavesdrop on what the others around them have heard. 

“I don't know what to say,” Mirabel hisses, looking at our cadets. 

“Fuck sake,” I whisper. I step up to the side of the mat and clap my hands to get their attention. “Right. Third Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing” — I cringe internally when I capture the attention of Liam and his group, and some of the Section and Wing Leaders glance over. I'm pretty sure it's meant to go Second Wing first — “today we’re—”

“Doesn't it go Second Wing first?” one of the cadets interrupts. 

I draw my hands behind my back and plant my feet. Fuck’s sake of course one of them is a goodie two shoes. I bet he even read the Codex before he got here.

“Good, so you are awake!" I say, raising my brows. I look at each of them in turn. "Because to look at you lot, I would have thought you'd come to see a Sunday show, not fight on assessment day!” 

Cohen’s low whistle tells me I've said something right. The cadets all stand straighter under my scrutiny and I high five Tân through our bond. 

“You are Second Wing, Flame Section, Third Squad. We encourage you to ask questions. For example, this morning I expect more than a few of you are going to ask me, ‘Hey, Gayl, how do I fight?’ My answer? My name's not Gayl, it's Fenryn. And I can't tell you how to fight this morning, you just have to get on this mat and show me your best. Then, we build you up from there. You can't punch?” I point to the door. “There's a training room three doors down with bags you will be punching every day until you can land a punch.” I begin to pace. “You can't flip someone? Where will you go?” 

“Training room,” two cadets whisper, looking at each other for support. 

I pause, clench my teeth, and assess each cadet in turn. Lowering my voice, I say as simply as possible, “I can't hear you.” 

“Training room!” The ten cadets shout. 

I nod and begin my pace again. “You can't throw a knife?”

“Training room!” 

“You can't pin someone down?” 

“Training room!” 

“You can't wipe your own arse?” I ask, spinning to face the cadets. 

“Training room?” 

“No!” I shout, throwing my hands in the air. “If you can't wipe your own arse, your parents have failed you!” There's a smattering of laughs. I look at Mirabel, who's grinning, and try not to roll my eyes. She's the executive officer, she should be addressing this lot. Where the fuck is Gayl!? 

“I'm not your mum. Cohen is not your dad. These people around you are not your siblings.” I point at the floor and walk to the middle spot. “On these mats, you're here to show your skill.” I pause for them to take that in. One cadet wobbles on her feet. Fuck. I hope she makes it through today in one piece. I really do. “I can't teach you what you should already know.” I soften my voice a little. “But I can teach you how to fight, or fight better. And I can teach you how to yield if you're in over your head.” I drop to the floor and tap the mat twice. “Yield. Got it?” The cadets nod. “Don't use it unless you absolutely need to. You should be winning bouts, not losing them! Understood?” 

“Understood!” 

“Good. We'll start soon so pull yourselves together and act like a fucking squad. The people beside you are here to protect you. They're not your enemy.” I return to Cohen’s side, hands shaking, heart beating in my throat. "And next time you're lined up wondering what the fuck you're meant to be doing, will you stand there mouths wide, staring around waiting for someone to tell you?"

"No!" 

I point at one cadet who said, "Fuck. No," and shake my finger in the air. 

"Yes. He has it right." I smile internally. Gayl will hate it if they start saying 'Fuck no,' but she has no leg to stand on right now. "I'll ask again. Will you stand around doing fuck all?"

"Fuck no." 

"What will you do?"

"Ask!" 

I nod and settle properly back into my place. The cadets whisper to each other and this time they sound almost excited rather than terrified. It's good. We don't need any more losses, and after last year's assessment day when Jack-fucking-Barlowe went around killing half the room, I think they're going to need all the positive thinking they can get. 

“Are you sure you're not interested in me?” Cohen asks, nudging me with his elbow, “Because I can promise a good night.” 

“I love you but not like that,” I mutter, trying not to look at Liam. 

“Were you good on the mat last year?” one of the cadets asks me. 

I shake my head. Why did I tell them to ask questions? They're going to be annoying me all year now. “Only way I didn't die was the cadet I was fighting decided not to snap my back. He also taught me the rule I just taught you. Which was ‘If you can't do something, do you give up?’” 

“Fuck no!” the cadets shout. 

“Where do you go?” I roar.

“Training room!” They shout back. 

“Good!”

Professor Emetterio steps up to the corner of the mat, the side of his mouth tilted into a smile. I don't flatter myself it's for me - he was just standing with Liam and Sorrengail. Sorrengail won all her bouts for the first half of the year after the kerfuffle of her assessment day. I was up and down, winning and yielding. I came away in those first months with black eyes, sore ribs and more. She seemed to walk away from every fight.

“Cadet Jancler you're up," Professor Emetterio says, consulting his clipboard.

Gayl's clipboard. He must be making an exception as she's not here. He hands it to Mirabel who blinks at me.

"I'm not fucking taking it," I say.  

"She has an aversion to boards," Cohen whispers around me. 

The cadet who was quite literally shaking in her boots steps up to the edge of the mat. I purse my lips. I'll have to keep a close eye on her.

"Do you have someone you want to challenge?" Professor Emetterio asks. "Or does anyone want to challenge Jancler?” 

Before Jancler can reply, I hear a, “Challenge Zynd.” It's a guy, taller than Liam and just as strong by the looks of things. 

Fuck. 

And I don't recognise him from my squad. He's not in my wing either. Maybe First Wing? I should be concerned, and I am. I'm really, really concerned. I forgot you could challenge anyone. Or, I hoped no one would challenge me because I'm just a lowly Second Year with no leadership potential. Where the fuck is Gayl!?

"You will be fine," Tân says. 

"Will I? Because we haven't had to spar in weeks! What if he's really good? I haven't gone to the training room since before war games. Fuck! I shouldn't have been in the common room with Gayl and Cohen so much!" 

"Calm, little one. You'll be fine."

A cold sweat prickles under my arms. I fight to stand as still as possible. "What if I'm not?" Tân wasn't there last year. She doesn't know what happened.

"Calm." 

I missed his name. I was too busy freaking out to hear it and now I'm on my own. Whoever-he-is steps onto the mat and strips to his bare torso. Ugh. It's a tactic the male cadets seem to use to make sure no one can grab hold of their vests. I don't like it for a few reasons. For one they get all sweaty and having to touch sweaty skin makes my stomach churn. And second, I couldn't get away with that. They'd still be able to grab hold of the band and straps covering my chest if I went topless. It's an unfair advantage.

At least I've had these sparring leathers long enough to have worn them in. 

Behind the cadet, Liam watches. He's turned completely round now, eyes narrowed on the cadet's back. It's almost too much pressure, seeing him there. 

I step onto the mat and take my position, my heartbeat keeping residence in my throat.

Mirabel tells us to start.

The cadet I don't know the name of but am apparently sparring with punches out, extending his whole arm. Oh. Tân was right. This is fine. I've spent enough time sparring Cohen to know this kind of manoeuvre, and what to do to counter it. 

Swinging my leg up, I hook the back of my right knee over his left forearm, brace a hand on his shoulder, swing round so I'm sat on his shoulders with my other leg round his neck, then twist my body and fall down so quickly he's thrown off balance.

Landing upside down with my hands splayed on the floor, my back arched, and my calf pressed tightly against his windpipe, I keep his upper body up until he begins to drop from lack of air and slaps my shin twice, yielding. 

Then, I roll us to the side, stand over him, and say, “Where are you off to after this?” 

Gripping his throat, he hangs his head. “Training room.” 

“Good.” I walk back, arms clasped behind my back.  

Cohen whistles low again as I return to his side. “You know you weren't Squad Leader because they thought you were dead, right?” 

“Stop chatting shit,” I reply, gaze honed in on one of the first years who's shaking a little. I think she'll be the one I have to heal first. Unless she's getting ready to tear someone apart… hopefully it's the latter. 

“Well done little one,” Tân yawns. 

“Am I keeping you awake?” I wait for Tân's snort. “You know that wouldn't have worked if he wasn't a cadet.” 

“Have faith in yourself, little one.” 

“Where the fuck is Gayl?” I mutter.

"There," Cohen says. 

Sure enough, Gayl's running over to us, red hair bouncing in the light. She waves, as if she hasn't been off somewhere for the last gods know how long. 

"She has a lot to answer for," I say, watching as another gigantic first year approaches Liam and the others. What are they putting in the water these days?

The cadet steps right in Gayl's way. She stops, and he asks her something. Cohen and I snicker together. Gayl's always had this thing where she doesn't listen to what someone's saying and then she smiles because she doesn't want to get in trouble, and just says yes. It's probably how she ended up getting given Squad Leader - she didn't know how to say no when they gave it to her.

Cohen steps up, waving. "Gayl-" 

Gayl waves, but the first year grabs her by the head and twists. There's a snap, then silence as Gayl falls to the ground. An almighty scream leaves my mouth, and I'm halfway across the mat before I even realise I've moved. 

Liam's eyes widen and he turns, pouncing on the cadet, but there's another, quieter, snap, and Nadine goes down. Liam's already got the first year in a lock, and he wrenches him to the ground.

Dodging past, I reach for Gayl. My fingertips touch her face and I know she's gone. Properly gone. But Nadine? Liam was already on the cadet by the time Nadine went down. My hand finds her neck and yes, there's a beat. Maybe he didn't snap her entire neck, just part of it? If that's the case, there's a chance she can be mended. 

I firm my hands around her neck and close my eyes. Channelling magic from my signet out into the wound, I assess it. The break is bad, but it hasn't severed her spinal cord so she's still alive. Barely. But she's alive.

Instinctively, I take a deep breath and ready myself for pain. A tear falls down my cheek. I couldn't save Gayl but maybe...

A hand covers mine and pulls me away. My eyes snap open. Brown hair, tawny skin, handsome face. Bodhi. He's crouched beside me, holding my hands in his uninjured one.

I stare down at his injured arm and blink. The last time I saw him properly was at Aretia. He had a cast on his arm and a glare on his face, and he's been serious and stoic around me since. I still don't know him well, but I've always respected him and that counts for a fucking lot, especially now. The respect is why I don't wrench my hands away from his, tell him to fuck off, and try to heal Nadine.

I frown down at his injured arm. He's still wearing his cast. Why is he still wearing his cast? 

I'm so focused on his cast, I don't hear what he says the first time. He leans closer. 

"You're in shock," Tân calls, though I barely hear her. Why hasn't anyone mended Bodhi? Tân growls. "You're in shock, little one." 

"You can't heal her," Bodhi hisses into my ear. 

Another tear escapes as I look down at Nadine, then at Gayl. "But she could-" 

"There are too many people around us." He shifts on his knees and glances up. 

I follow his gaze to find a multitude of people watching both us and what's going on behind us. I sniff deeply, try to bury my feelings down inside, and wipe away my tears with the heels of my palms. 

"Do you think we can get her to the Healers?" he asks, looking back down at Nadine.

I blink, then nod. "Erm..." My voice breaks. I struggle to control it. "Maybe." I suck in a breath. "Yeah, erm, maybe. Nolon won't make it here in time, but if you run with her on something flat." 

"Get me that plank!" Bodhi shouts, pointing at a First Year and the plank in question. 

"Gayl," I breathe, turning to my friend who lies on the floor next to me. I can't believe I was cursing her just minutes ago. She must have had a reason for being late. I take her hand in mine, and notice a cast on her arm. I frown. What happened to her arm? Why is everyone wearing casts!?

Bodhi's fingertips firm around my jaw and he turns my face to look up at him. "Focus on who you can save," he orders. 

I sniff again and nod. Oh gods. 

Mercifully, the First Year does as he's told, and Bodhi and I guide Nadine's body onto the plank, then stand and begin to jog together out of the sparring room and down the hallway. I'm glad Bodhi hasn't asked me if I want to help or not, he's just decided that for me. It means I'm away from the sparring room. Away from Gayl's lifeless body. Away from decisions. Away from anyone who could-

"Liam," I gasp, looking behind us. 

"Will be fine," Bodhi says, beckoning me on.

We dash through corridors, Bodhi holding the plank with one hand from the front, me drawing up the rear, clinging on for dear life with two hands. I don't know how long I can carry Nadine. I've never carried much weight over long distances, let alone a plank and a whole person plus sparring leathers and boots, but Bodhi picks up the slack and we keep going. Only when I'm gasping for breath does he make us turn in a large circle.

Then, I'm at the front, and it's a little easier. The fact he's doing this with one hand should impress me, but I'm too freaked to completely understand the feat.

"How long does she have?" he asks. 

The Healers Quadrant is in front of us. Just a few more steps. Other Menders have this thing where they can tell how long someone has until an injury is too bad to heal. Sometimes they push further, but it's a rite of passage to learn how to tell how long someone has left.

I shake my head. "I don't know. My signet doesn't work like that. Even Tân has to tell me when I'm being too ambitious." 

I push open the door to the Healers Quadrant and yell for Nolon, who teaches me how to control my mending sometimes. He comes out from an office, frowning. His eyes widen when he sees Nadine. I run through what happened. 

Nolon raises an eyebrow at Bodhi. "You were there?"

"Yes."

"You're Xaden Riorson?" Nolon asks. 

"No, Bodhi Durran, Section Leader of Flame Section, Fourth Wing," he says, as if this is the first time they're meeting.

Nolon nods and presses his hands to Nadine's neck. "This will be tricky."

"But not impossible," I finish for him. Please let it not be impossible. Someone needs to survive today. Someone does. 

While Nolon starts work on Nadine, I suck in shuddering gasps and think of what just happened to Gayl. I step back from the bed Nadine's on, and press against a stone wall, leaning against the expanse to ground myself. My breaths are shaky and I lean back further.

It's only when Bodhi wraps an arm around me that I realise I'm leaning on him. He doesn't say anything. 

"I thought you were Tail Section?" I say, to break the tension I feel at being in his arms. Arm. 

"Keeping tabs on me?" 

"Oh, you marked ones, got to keep an eye on you in case you do anything illegal," I reply, distracted by a whimper from Nadine's bed. 

"They switched things up this morning," Bodhi says, his tone serious now. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" 

His arm firms and I'm drawn flush against his chest. "You've done nothing wrong." 

"Your clenched teeth beg to differ." 

He lowers his voice, whispering against my ear. "Unless you're a one eyed dragon, you've done nothing wrong." 

I nod. I feel the same way. He's being just as stoic as I'm trying to be, only he's so much better at it. 

My fingers trace his cast which sits across my collarbone. Unable to watch Nadine anymore, I close my eyes and allow my magic to seep into his broken arm. My own arm begins to hurt, burning hotter and hotter until I know his breaks are almost fully healed. I practise the control I almost didn't have in the sparring room - I stop at the point where my own arm would break to mend his. I don't want that. I just want to know I've helped him. I don't want that excruciating pain myself. 

"Did you..." he whispers, his injured hand flexing on my shoulder. 

"You're right, I can't mend everyone," I say. I look up at him over my shoulder. "But maybe with the right teacher, I can do more." That was what Brennan said, wasn't it? If I stayed in Aretia he could teach me how to do more with my signet. I don't know how I could do more than save an entire dragon, but so far I've been running around with Tân being the one to stop me if I go too far. And what if I have to channel and she's not close enough to know my limits for me? Or to protect me? 

Bodhi's gaze darts around my face, before meeting mine. "I don't think you can go back there." I close my eyes and his next words whisper over my lips. "If it were up to me, you would, but it's not."

"And if I was fucking a Wingleader?" I ask. 

I open my eyes to see a grin curling Bodhi's lips. "Would still be a no, I'm afraid. I don't make the rules."

"True." I bury my feelings deep down inside once and for all, cutting off my heart from my brain. Gayl, like the others here, was never promised a future. I just gave her one in my mind because I loved her. "But to counter your point, we're riders. We don't make the rules, we break them."

Bodhi's grin widens. He shakes then ducks his head, lowering his voice further. "No, but in all seriousness you can't put anything in jeopardy. You can't go back there." We stare at each other for a long moment. 

"I won't," I promise finally, thinking of Liam. "But I can't promise Tân won't." 

He nods. "That's good enough." 

"Durran." Varrish's cruel voice is unmistakable as he addresses Bodhi.

My heart drops to my stomach. He's right behind us. 

Bodhi's arm slides from around my shoulders and we turn in unison to face the pale-eyed Vice Commandant whose orange dragon killed off most of Third Wing yesterday. 

Varrish blinks at me. "Ah. And, Zynd, is it?"

I swallow the lump that's formed in my throat. How does he know my name already? 

Chapter Text

The one who killed Gayl was in Second Wing. Our wing. We’re not meant to attack our own, but he did. He killed her. And Sorrengail killed him. Which makes her a thousand times braver than me.

Me? I ran. I ran with Nadine and went to the safety of the Healers Quadrant where I got a semi-cuddle from Bodhi Durran.

Sorrengail? She got revenge for my friend. 

I want to thank her, but she’s surrounded by people, so I have to return to my place between Maribel and Cohen on the mat. For the rest of the assessment I’m silent. I can’t even look the first years in the eye. I can’t watch the mat either. I pick a spot on the wall and stare ahead, willing my eyes to stop seeing Gayl’s face lying on the floor, expressionless and dull. 

We’re not meant to think about the dead. But Gayl’s different. She was my friend. Even when I didn’t know how to show how much she meant to me, she cared for me. We joked together. We cried together. We flew together.

She didn’t know all my secrets, but she knew enough not to ask for the rest. She protected me and I protected her. 

And I can’t allow myself to focus on the fact that I have to go to see Varrish after this, either. Once assessment day is done, I have to go and stand in front of that man and give my assessment on what happened to Gayl. I have to recall it all with a severe lack of emotion, which I know will be nearly impossible considering my throat is already clogged up so tight I can barely breathe.

Gayl.

"No, back in line," Maribel calls.

She's finally stepped up, commanding the first years and scolding them if they get something wrong. I guess she’s in command now. Leave it to Gayl to leave the worst person possible in command. No, the worst person possible would be me. Fuck. 

Finally, Emetterio let’s us go and I walk straight past our cadets - Gayl’s cadets - and over to the door. 

Bodhi’s already there, leaning against the wall with one foot kicked up, rubbing his cast-less almost healed arm.

“I’ll come with you,” he says when I reach him.

“And what will that do?” I ask with a heavy shrug. “You’re already on his list.”

He is, we both know it. Varrish has a list of people, just like Tân has a list of people. And we both know the people on Varrish’s list include all the people who saw venin at Resson and agreed to come back to Basgiath and act as though they didn’t. 

Septon is the only reason I’m not on Varrish's list because he swore I was just miscounted at our assigned outpost, but who knows. My age might add me pretty soon, and it sure as hell doesn’t help I was seen with Bodhi’s arm around my shoulders, whether it was a friendly support or not.  

“You okay?” Liam asks, appearing at my shoulder. He presses a hand to my back, almost pushing me into Bodhi. I catch myself, nod, then carry on down the hallway. 

I hear Bodhi behind me, filling Liam in. His, “What?” follows me round the corner, but there’s nothing any of us can do, I have to report to Varrish. 

“You’ll be fine, little one,” Tân says. But she can’t know that. She doesn’t know that. No one knows that.

One minute you could be late for assessment day, the next your body could be dragged off by people you don’t know because your best friend (me) is absent, and your ex (Cohen) isn’t fast enough to get to you.

Lifting my hand, I slap myself hard across the cheek. People die every day. Especially here. Why does one red-headed... Fuck. Gayl. Why? Fuck. No. Bury the feelings. Bury them deep, deep down, Fenryn. Do not let them come up. Do not do it. 

I’ve never been to the Vice Commandant’s office, so I’m not sure what to expect, but I don’t have to expect anything, as I turn the corner to the leadership offices and there Varrish stands with his hands behind his straight back. 

Waiting for me.

He's waiting for me. 

I take as deep a breath as I can without showing weakness, and stop in front of him, picking a spot on the wall behind his head to stare at. 

“You asked to see me, Sir." I force out the words. 

“I did.” He stares at me for a long moment. So long, I’m not sure if I’m meant to say anything. 

Finally, I decide to be brave and just say my recollection of what happened to Gayl and hope that’s what he wanted me to do. 

Varrish’s eyes don’t move from mine while I speak. It’s bloody creepy. I can feel his eyes as if they're stabbing mine. And they won't let up.

"Good. She wasn't meant to be a rider," he says simply, as if I need this dismissive addition to the overwhelming situation I'm in. I want to punch him in the face. "That's not why you're here, of course."

"It's not?" I whisper, as ice floods my veins. 

"No. Something interesting has come to my attention,” he says. 

He knows. He knows. He fucking knows. 

“Calm.”

I take another breath and square my shoulders. After that ‘I have to be in control’ speech last night, it’s my dragon who has to calm me in this situation!? 

“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?” Varrish says.

I nod. 

“Good. It’ll make this easier for you.” He steps forward, until his boots press against mine and his disgusting breath touches my face on his exhale. We’re almost the same height, he’s just a little taller. I’m glad. I feel like looking him in the eye from the same level is easier somehow. “Cadets under my watch must take care to show me where their loyalties lie. As I said to Squad Leader Ulkins this morning” — I stop myself from gasping at Gayl’s surname. She was with Varrish, all alone while I was cursing her! — “your loyalties must be to Basgiath above all else. Understood?”

I nod. 

“Now," he drops his voice. "Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” 

I lose my spot on the wall. I can't look away from his pupils - they're so black and his irises are so pale. I hope for all that’s gods-like that he can’t read my thoughts because if he can, all he’s seeing is my regret list running through my mind. Top of the list? Liam. Not the fact I saved him, but the fact I've been too chickenshit to speak to him properly. 

I fight the urge to swallow, even though a lump has formed in my throat and I need to get it out. Instead, I shake my head. 

“Nothing at all?” he asks.

I shake my head again. 

Varrish hums. “That, Zynd, was a lie."

Fuck.

"Therefore, I have decided that tonight, we will be having a special addition to assessment day,” he continues. 

“Sir?”

“It has come to my attention that last year, someone decided to hold their punches, and that’s the only way you were able to make it past the mat.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

"At least he doesn't know how old you are," Tân snarls. 

“Sir.” 

“Do you agree this was the case?” He's so fucking calm while my heart races so fast I'm sure he can hear my heartbeat. 

“Yes, sir.” I said it. I can’t lie and say I didn’t say that. I did. And in front of everyone on assessment day. What was I thinking? 

“Good. The truth. You see, Zynd, I cannot abide liars or those who flout the rules. You surround yourself with liars like Durran" - well, one man's liar is another woman's revolutionist - "and you flout the rules." He steps even closer. "I would rethink your chosen company after your punishment, and I would rethink lying to me."

"I will torch him." Tân's voice is so low and angry I might as well be hearing Malek himself in my head. 

"Your spar last year was an infraction of the Codex," Varrish says, venom dripping from his words. "On assessment day, you are to show your skills wholly. Tonight, you will be fighting on the mat. You will not yield until ten minutes have passed, or I will snap your neck." He lean closer and drops his voice to a whisper. "If you warn anyone of that rule, I will snap your neck. If you refuse to go, I will snap. Your. Neck. Do you understand?”

What I understand is that you’re a fucking arsehole and that’s definitely not in the Codex, you just made it up. “Sir.” 

“Off you go.” 

I wait until I'm corridors away before I sink against the wall, shaking. Then, I hatch a plan. He will not beat me. Varrish will not be the reason I end up torched in Basgiath. I will not let him be the author of my demise. I might not be able to tell people I need to be on the mat for ten minutes, but there is something else I can do. It's stupid, but it's something. 

I find Liam with Bodhi and Imogen outside in the courtyard. They’re pushing the limits of how many marked ones are allowed to be together at any time, but they’re not breaking any rules. Good.

They also look like they’re in a deep conversation about something. In short, they're busy doing marked ones shit and I'm interrupting them. I have to make it quick. 

Reaching Liam, I tap him on the shoulder, then lean in. “Hey, I need a favour,” I whisper.

Liam raises an eyebrow and blinks. “From me?”

Narrowing my eyes, I tilt my head and nod at the pink haired woman beside Bodhi. “No, from Imogen.” 

Liam glances at Imogen who stands far enough away from me that she can’t have caught my low tone. His cheeks turn a rosy hue that tells me he understands how stupid his question was, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, of course.” 

“I just found out I'll be on the mat tonight. Varrish says it’ll be like assessment day, so someone else can volunteer. I need you to volunteer.”

He's the best chance I have. I can deal with Varrish's 'don't hang out with marked ones' command later. 

Liam blinks once. Twice. Three times. “You want me to fight you?” He raises his eyebrow and crosses his arms as if he can’t believe this is what I’m asking. 

I nod. “You've done it before and you pulled your punches. You gave me a good chance.” 

He considers me. “I don't know. That was before. I don’t really think fighting you is a good idea. Not if-” 

Oh come on. Why are you making this so difficult for me? “Please, Liam,” I say, gaze flicking between his sky blue eyes. My eyebrows twitch together. “I will get on my knees and beg you if I have to.”

His throat bobs. “I- what?” he asks.

“I will get on my knees. And. Beg.”

Closing his eyes, he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Varrish told you you’re fighting? Why?”

“I can’t explain right now,” I say.

How can I explain Varrish's warning without opening Liam up to issues? “But it’s an open match. That means someone else could literally volunteer to kill me. You saw what happened to Gayl and Nadine today.” 

Liam drops his hand. His gaze darts to Bodhi, who nods, then back to me. “They were after Vi, not Gayl. It was an assassination attempt.” 

Stepping back, I scoff and turn my attention to the archway behind Liam. Tears well in my eyes. Gayl. Why does it always come back to Violet-fucking-Sorrengail!? Why does everyone want to kill her, and why is there so much death around her? Fucking Gayl. 

“Focus, little one.” Tân’s voice grounds me and I suck in a breath.

“Please, Liam. Please,” I beg loudly enough for the others to hear. 

“I don't fight for-”

“Resson,” I mouth. 

Liam licks his lips, glances at the other two, then nods. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Vi is out for the night, so... Yeah. But I won't make a scene.” 

“Thank you.” I hold my hands together and back away. “It’ll be announced soon. It’s an ‘attend if you want’, but you'll be there, right?” 

“I'll be there,” Liam confirms.

I allow my lips to tip up into a relieved smile, then run off to prepare. 

At least it's Liam. 

At least he'll pull his punches. 

“Fenryn Zynd.” Emetterio’s voice calls throughout the packed sparring room.

It seems like all the squads from every wing have turned out for this momentous occasion. It was announced just before dinner, so everyone is full and happy and I'm the only one who has thrown up from absolute fear in the past half an hour. That's a turn up for Basgiath. A first, maybe. 

I would be fucked, but I know I have Liam to support me. I can rely on him, just like he relied on me. 

"I can rely on him, right?" I ask Tân. 

"Let's hope, little one," she replies. 

I step onto the mat and look around, trying to spot Liam before Emmeterio calls for volunteers. An uncomfortable swirling sensation lowers into my gut when I don't spot that specific mop of blonde hair which I’ve memorised. My gaze finds Sloane's near the front of the line of Fourth Wing cadets. Liam's sister will know where he is, surely? 

The wings have all chosen to stand (or sit) along the four lines of the mat, with first years at the front, second and thirds at the back. The highers can all use magic so they’re in the process of moving tables and chairs inside the room with their summoning powers to watch. It's like my own personal theatre.  

“Where's Liam?” I mouth to Sloane.

She looks behind, squeezing back past her line of first years, and comes back. She shakes her head frantically, then runs off, leaving the gym. 

“Oh shit,” I mutter. 

Liam's not here. He's actually not here. I glance at the clock on the wall. He should be here. The fight was delayed by three minutes because there weren't enough tables in the room. Which means, he should have been here five minutes ago. 

A cold chill seeps through me, from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. What did Varrish do to him? What... what happened to Liam? Because something must have happened for him to not be here. He promised. He fucking promised. 

“Who volunteers?” Emmeterio calls. 

“I do.” A deep voice carries over the silent sparring gym.

"Oh," I whisper.

I was expecting more volunteers if I’m honest. Maybe they all decided ahead of time who would fight me. No one from Second Wing would do it, and Third’s non existent, which leaves First or Fourth. 

“Name?” Emmeterio asks, pen poised over his scroll.

“Kilric Halfsson.”

Halfsson steps onto the mat. He's giant. And stacked. Like a dragon’s build. He strips off his jacket and I see the three stars shining in the light. He's a third year.

Fuck. 

“Rules for this match have been determined ahead of time. No weapons. That means no daggers, no signets. Body only. This is a yielding match. There is no let up. Until one of you yields, you will stay on the mat. If you kill the other during the bout, you will be killed. Do you understand?” 

I nod. It's not the usual set of rules. Usually, it's just frowned upon to kill another on the mat, but maybe because we've already lost a shite tonne of us to dragonfire this year, they need to preserve as many bonded riders as they can. 

“Understood.” Halfsson licks his lips and sends me a wry grin. “This’ll be fun,” he says, as if he really believes this will be. 

I take my defensive position. It'll be fun for him, maybe, but not me. He must have seen what I did on the mat earlier and thinks he'll be trying to best me. The issue is, I know what I’m doing, but if he gets one of those meat hooks he calls hands around my throat? Or punches me at the right angle? I’ll be done for. And I don’t think Halfsson understands yet that this really is a ‘yield only’ match. If I don’t yield, which I can’t, then we’ll be at this for a while. Ten minutes to be exact. 

Behind me, the doors bang open. I turn my head. Liam sprints inside followed by Sloane and Gamlyn. Liam who looks as though he's late for class. There are no injuries on him. He's fine. He's abso-fucking-lutely fine. What? 

“Start.” 

Halfsson’s fist connects with my cheekbone before I can turn back to face him. The force of his blow drives me to the ground, pain radiating out across my face. 

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! 

I manage to roll to my feet. Halfsson’s fist almost connects with my shoulder, but I duck out the way at the last moment. 

My cheekbone throbs and I go to open my jaw but wince at the pain. I guess I'll be silent then. 

Halfsson lunges for my ankles and I manage to jump over his arms, though it is a feat and for a second I think he'll catch me. 

We go on like this for over six minutes, me bouncing around the mat, punching, ducking, weaving and fighting. Him, charging after me, punching out, over and over.

Then, he changes tact at the last minute and slams his shoulder into my hips, bringing me to the ground with a smack. The air leaves my chest in one huff. 

Laughing over at his friends, who cheer from the back of First Wing, he sits on me. He's too heavy. I can't roll him. Not like Liam. I can't get him off me. My chest constricts further as panic rises in me, freezing my lungs. 

It takes me back to the place I lived before Basgiath.

“No,” I groan, the word using my remaining breath. 

I can’t think properly until Halfsson’s fist slams into my face and shocks me out of the flashback. He rises slightly and I can breathe again.  

Spluttering, I try to move him off me, but he flips me over and pulls my arm behind my back. It's not a breaking hold, just a hold. I'm not sure why he's not going for the 'kill' as it were, but I'm not about to tell him his technique is lacking. 

“Yield,” Halfsson says, adjusting his hold so that my neck is held tightly in the crook of his elbow.  

My eyes widen. I try to take a breath but can’t. My windpipe is pressed too tightly. 

And I can't yield. 

“Yield!” Tân shouts.

“I can't.”

My vision blurs, turning to a series of grey and white stars which swim across the fading black mat. Buzzing fills my ears. My free hand clutches at Halfsson’s forearm, my half-bitten nails clawing at his hair-covered skin. 

“Stop scratching me and yield,” Halfsson hisses.

He sounds harsh, but there's something in his voice that tells me he really is expecting me to yield. At least there's that. He's not in on Varrish's humiliation plan. Otherwise he'd be doing a lot more than this. I think, at least.  

Halfsson's hold tightens around my neck in what I assume is a warning. Only, I don't have any breath left, so it's not so much a warning as a death blow.

I just have to hope he doesn't actually kill me. If he does, he'll die himself. Those were the rules of this match.  

Tingles rush through my body. My eyes roll back into my head.

Chapter Text

I wake face down on the cool, uncomfortably stiff mat. Someone's arguing above me. Their voice is loud and deep and I can hear their words, but I can't understand them - it's too much effort for my mind to figure out, and each word floats into my ear and just... nothing. All I know is, they don’t sound happy.

Everything's dull. My head feels too heavy while my legs and arms feel like I'm floating in a mass of water. My face is numb. Except... yes. There's a pain in my leg. I shift and the pain goes. Oh, good. It was just an awkward position. I guess you don't decide where your limbs go when you pass out. 

“Continue the clock,” Varrish's voice is unmistakable to my ears, and the words register immediately. It's like I'm suddenly on high alert and I need to move. 

But I can't.  

Halfsson waits a beat, then rolls me onto my front and kicks me in the side. I cry out as this new pain is added to the rest. I'm unable to think about what I should do other than lie there and take the beating. Each time Halfsson hesitates, Varrish berates him. It's not even fair. Not to Halfsson. Not to me. I can't rise, I'm too tired, too injured.

Four minutes. I passed out for four minutes, and when Halfsson went to leave the mat, Varrish reminded him he had to wait for me to yield. The clock was paused until I opened my eyes. 

Sometime later, I hear one voice above the others calling for me to yield. “Yield." Liam sounds desperate. 

I want to yield. I want to. But I can't.

"How long?" I whimper to Tân through our connection. 

Even Halfsson thinks this is too much. He alternates between hissing at me to yield, and asking Emmeterio if my state warrants a yield-in-principle so he can stop, but Varrish puts an end to that by reminding him of the rules. 

“If I need to remind a Third Year three times…” Varrish says, clicking his tongue.

The spectators are still here. In fact, they've somehow grown in number. All the stragglers at dinner and in the library maybe. 

"Nine and a half minutes, little one," Tân replies. 

I cry out as Halfsson’s fist strikes my back. "Yield," he says through clenched teeth, grabbing a fistful of my hair to wrench my head back. “This is crazy. You need to yield. If you die, I die, remember.” 

"Fucking yield, Fenryn!" someone shouts.

Gritting my teeth, I snarl. I can't yield or I'm out. And I can’t even ask Halfsson if he’ll do it and put a stop to this - Varrish won’t let me stay if I ask for Halfsson to forfeit the match. And what would he do to Halfsson in return? 

"Fifteen seconds, little one," Tân says, even quieter this time. 

"Are you leaving me?" I cry, tears filling my eyes. 

"No, I just can't bear this much longer," she replies. I understand. Dragons bond just as deeply as we do. Tân cares for me as much as I care for her and we are like one. But if I die, she'll survive it. I know it. 

"Neither can I." 

"Fen. Fenryn," Liam shouts from the edge of the mat. I open my eyes and he's there, squatting at the edge of the mat, staring at me with wide, horror filled eyes. "Yield." 

A bell rings. Silence falls around the sparring room. Halfsson pauses. 

"Zynd," Varrish spits. “Your ten minutes are up.”  

I slam my hand down on the mat twice. I don't have the strength to say the word and from the way Varrish’s lip curls, he knows it. 

“What?” Liam breathes. 

Halfsson drops my hair and my face slams into the mat.  

Fingers touch my shoulder. Halfsson tries to turn me. Tries to help me.  

“Don't touch me,” I hiss, curling in on myself. I don't want help. 

“I didn’t know about the time when I volunteered,” Halfsson says. 

I shake my head. "It's the mat," I groan. We do this every time we step up. I don't care about the injuries. I just don't want anyone to touch me right now. I'm too vulnerable.

I do care that Liam didn't volunteer. I care that for a moment I had a spark of hope that Liam would protect me like he protects Sorrengail, and he didn't.  

"Healers quadrant, come with me," Gayl says, her soft voice like a beacon to my ears, her touch is steady and strong and I welcome it.  

But no, it's not Gayl. She's not here. It's a cadet with blonde hair. Sloane. It's Sloane. 

I'm shifting away when Varrish says, "No." I crane my neck to see his mouth set into a firm line. “Zynd can help herself and attend classes tomorrow. If not, she wasn't truly worthy to be a rider, and her name will be on the scrolls." He turns his pale eyes on me. "As I said before. Rules will not be broken at Basgiath.”  

I want to say something. I want to argue that I didn't know I was breaking a rule by Liam helping me in the mat, but when I open my mouth, the contents of my stomach flows out. I convulse and just before I close my eyes, I realise it's not my lunch that's come up. It's blood. 

I wake later, groaning. I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling of the gym. It's dark, and there's no one around. He made them leave me here. I can't bring myself to be angry at anyone because...

"It still hurts," I tell Tân. “Why does it still hurt? Why haven't I healed?”

"I can't channel to you right now. You can't heal yourself. Not like this. You have to do it slowly, or he'll know," she whines. 

"Oh." I forgot Menders can't heal their own injuries. Only Liam, Sorrengail and the marked ones know I'm different. Even Gayl doesn't know I take on her injuries to heal them. Didn't know. 

My shoulders shake as I sob. Tân roars at the same time as I scream in anger, the sounds melding into one battle cry.

Technically, technically, Varrish hasn't done anything wrong. He's well within his rights to right a wrong as he puts it. So I can't complain, and no one can help me. And technically he didn't harm me himself. A third year did, and on the mat. 

It takes me ten minutes to get to the door of the sparring room. The irony isn't lost on me that it takes the same amount of time to leave as it took to be beaten. Shuffling along the darkened corridors, it takes me another hour to get back to my room. It usually takes me fifteen minutes. No one stops me. No one helps me.

Once or twice I hear a noise behind me and turn, only to see nothing but shadow behind. There's no one there. I carry on.  

The first thing I do when I reach my room is fall onto a heap on my bed.

The light through the window is turning orange when I wake again. It's still too early for breakfast, so I limp to the bathing room and strip off, wincing with each wipe of my cloth. I change while everyone else starts to rise, the bangs of their opening and closing doors my only indication they're up - no one knocks for me. 

I don't blame Cohen, Maribel or Tomas. With Gayl gone and me taking such a beating, I'm sure they think I'm already gone.  

Slipping my flight jacket over my uniform takes another five minutes of wheezing and wincing. I shouldn't wear my flight jacket unless I'm flying, but I don't have anything else that will cover my arms.

When I'm done and have made it downstairs, I find there's still time to go to breakfast, but I'm far from hungry, and I don't want to hobble to formation and hear Gayl’s name on the scroll either. But Varrish wants me at Battle Brief, and there's no way I'm getting waylaid. Reaching our briefing room, I stumble through the doors and head to the front of the class, where the teachers - Professors Devera and Markham - stand on the dias.

“What are you doing?” Tân asks when I sit on the table Markham uses to lay down his texts, and swing my legs up so I can lie down. 

“Resting,” I reply, sighing when my back relaxes into the unyielding, solid wood. “Better.” Much, much better. The beds in Basgiath are firm, but the table is much better for my back - I feel the aches dissipate as I allow my body to sink down. 

It's so comfortable, I begin to drift off. I wake to silence. 

“Is it early?” I ask, blinking up at the bright light coming through the window above me. 

“No,” Tân replies, a smile on her voice.

I narrow my eyes. “Why are you smiling?” 

Tân doesn't answer me. Gods sake. And humans are the dramatic ones?

The bell rings, reminding me of my situation. Oh. The sun. The bell. Great. Class has started and I'm still lying on this table. Ugh. I just know when I sit up, everyone will be staring at me and I'll have to walk over to my seat next to Cohen and it'll be embarrassing.

"I don't want to get up," I whine.

“You have to,” Tân says, the smile still very much evident in her voice. 

I roll my head so I can see the ceiling, then, groaning, sit up and swing my legs round so I'm facing the room. I make eye contact with a Second Wing cadet. His eyes widen. I look away immediately. 

Slipping down to the floor, I press my hand against my stomach and hobble over to where my wing sit. I take my time on the steps down from the teaching level since my legs are stiff. I refuse to look at anywhere or anyone other than where I'm headed.

I haven't looked in the mirror, but I'm sure I'm a state. I can feel the bruising all over, and my face aches. Thank the gods I'm not in charge of anyone this year. They would have lost all faith in me last night with my performance and Varrish's obvious contempt. 

On my way to my seat, I pass one of the Third Squad, Flame Section cadets. “We thought you were dead,” she says. I recognise her as the one who was shaking yesterday. 

I scrunch my nose and narrow my eyes. “Sorry, are we giving up if we get a beating on the mat now?”

My voice is deep and gravelly, and it hurts to even say the words out loud, but they must hear it as in unison, the Third Squad cadets shout, “Fuck no.” 

Wincing, I lower myself into my seat beside Cohen. 

“We actually did think you were dead,” he whispers, throwing his arm across my shoulders. The weight is almost too much, but he shifts and I sigh, letting my head loll back over his forearm. 

“Yes, that's good. Stay there,” I groan, closing my eyes. 

“Today, we will be covering…” 

I tune out Devera and stare at the ceiling. “Did they call her name?” I whisper. 

Cohen's answer is a kiss at my temple. We're not meant to talk about the dead. Once they're on the scroll, they're done and we move on. But Gayl, Cohen and I had a little tradition. If we knew the person well - if they were a Third Squad-er like us, the person most affected by the loss would get a kiss to the temple or the cheek. A little farewell. 

“Who's our new Squad Leader?” Please let it be Cohen. Please let it be Cohen. 

“Tomas.” 

“That's good.” Better than Mirabel, just not as close to me. I can't argue with Tomas's decisions as much as I would be able to with Cohen. “He deserves it.” He really does. More than Gayl did.

Gayl. Has it really only been a day since she died? 

I can feel a pair of eyes boring holes into my face from across the room. I turn to see Liam staring at me over the expanse of empty seating where Third Wing's second years should have been. Sorrengail sits beside him with bruising around her neck. I heard the first year she killed in revenge for Nadine choked her a bit, so I'm glad she's here. 

I look back at Liam. All I can think about is what happened on the mat. Maybe it was all in my head, thinking I meant something to him now that I saved his life. Because if I meant something to him, he would have volunteered, wouldn't he? He wouldn't have let someone else do it.

“Glare at him,” Tân whispers, like a Malekish dragon sat on my shoulder. 

"It was my mistake," I reply, shaking my head internally. 

"No, it was his." 

I do as she says, narrowing my eyes and curling my lip. Liam's eyes widen. For a split second worry burrows into my chest when one of his eyes doesn't move as much as the other, and I notice a bruise to rival my own from his eyebrow to his cheekbone. Before I can investigate, Sorrengail starts to answer Devera and I turn back to the front.  

“How's your stomach?” Cohen asks later, when I shift in my seat for the millionth time. He pokes my right side. 

“Ow,” I hiss, slapping his hand away

“You seem alright,” he says, shrugging. “Apart from your face…” 

What? No. I can't have that. I cannot have Varrish thinking I'm okay and impervious to injuries, and I can't have anyone think that maybe, just maybe I'm stronger than I really am. If they do, they might start to question things and they might find out about my signet. 

An urgent missive comes for Markham and Devera, so they give us a two minute reprieve. I unzip my jacket and, wincing, sit forward to strip it off. My arms have a smattering of thick fingerprint bruises and large welts - nothing we've not seen before a million times. Well, maybe not the first years, but the rest of us. Untucking my shirt, I lean back and show Cohen my stomach, which arguably looks much, much worse. 

“Fucking Malek,” he says, leaning over, tracing his fingers over my side. “How are you alive?” 

I shrug. Maybe my idea about Malek and the scales is right. 

“Legs?” he asks, still staring at the edge of my bruise. 

“Worse,” I hiss. “Barely managed to get my trousers on this morning.” 

I shift to tuck my shirt back in, and let my legs relax out into the gangway. 

“Not long until Healers then,” he says, his eyes softening when he looks at me. 

I send him a half-smile, then turn to look at Liam, whose gaze is fixed on my stomach. His jaw is set and he looks more angry than I've seen him before.

"Zynd, that looks bad," Aura calls from the back. "Healers Quadrant, now." 

I turn to look at her. She stands with the other Wing Leaders and some of the Section Leaders including Bodhi. None of them are smiling. They look as though they're all in agreement and standing with Aura to back her up. 

"I have to wait until after class," I call back. 

"Zynd," she snaps, "you are bleeding internally." 

I let out a breath of a laugh. "Oh, that's good." I'm relieved. From the look on her face I had thought I would be dying soon. 

Aura's face scrunches. "That's not good, Zynd."

I frown. "But isn't that where the blood's supposed to be?" 

Laughter erupts around me and I smile as quickly as I can to mask my confusion. 

"Tân, is internal bleeding bad?" I ask, bemused by the reaction of everyone else. 

Tân's disappointed sigh lasts at least half a minute. By the end of it, I'm slumped in my chair, praying to Zinhal, the god of luck, to ask for enough time to get to the Healers Quadrant after class.

I was right to wait until after class as Varrish instructed. When we leave, Cohen's arm slips off my shoulders, and I stand to attention. Varrish is beside the door.

I cross the hallway and face him. Most people glance between the Vice Commandant and me as they pass, but no one stops, no one interferes. Liam, Sorrengail, Matthias and Bodhi are the closest - they all hover for a moment, but I shake my head and they leave. 

When it's just us left, Varrish raises an eyebrow and says, “Off you go,” pointing towards the Healers Quadrant.

I thank the gods I decided to come to class. If I'd been mended earlier, I'm sure he would have made me pay for not listening to instructions. And if I'd gone to breakfast or formation he might have thought I was trying to make a scene. 

“Thank you, Sir,” I say. I don't move yet. I have this churning feeling deep in my gut which tells me to stay exactly where I am. 

Varrish steps forwards, until our boots are so close I can feel the tips of his on mine. “Zynd?”

“Sir?” I force my body straighter, even when my spine protests the movement. 

“Lie to me again.” 

I swallow thickly. “I don’t—”

He grabs my chin between his fingers, squeezing my jaw so hard I have to force myself to blink away my tears. “Lie. To. Me. Again." 

I blink. This time, I don't answer. It's not a question. It's a warning. He might not know (I hope) that I was there at Resson. But Varrish knows I'm the weak link — the unmarked one who isn't tied by dragon bond to a marked one like Sorrengail to Riorson. Malek, even if Sorrengail wasn't bonded to Riorson in some way, she has the second biggest dragon in the quadrant so would get away with murder, probably.

But me? Varrish thinks I'm close to Bodhi, who was at Resson, and by punishing me for my 'infraction', he's punishing Bodhi. And I don't have anything or anyone to protect me from his wrath. 

"You have me," Tân whispers.

"No. I won't let him or Solas hurt you, so I have to deal with this on my own," I reply.

Varrish leaves the opposite way to where I've been sent. I watch him leave then, rubbing my chin, make my way to the Healers, hoping there'll be a Mender there. Maybe Nolon, who gives me lessons sometimes. Anyone who can stop this pain. Hopefully if they start the process, Tân will let me heal myself. 

“I will,” Tân whines, pain evident in her voice. 

I arrive to fine Liam standing outside the doors to the ward, blocking my way. "Fen," he says.

I don't dignify him with one iota of acknowledgement. 

“Speak to him, little one,” Tân says in a gentle tone. 

Red fills my vision as anger seeps from my head, into my heart, then my soul. “No. He said he'd volunteer for it and he wasn't even there when I needed him.”

I'm so angry and tired, I don't have the energy to stop myself from crying, and the hot tears splash down my cheeks on my way past Liam. I don't want him to see me vulnerable, so I wipe them away with the heels of my palms and refuse to wince when I brush bruises on my face.

“Tell Deigh if he calls me Fen one more time…” I say to Tân. 

“Fenryn,” Liam corrects after a moment. 

“Tân,” I growl. “Not that either.” 

“Zynd?” Liam asks. “Let me explain. I didn't know you had a time limit. I didn't know.” Groaning, I push at the heavy door. Liam's hand covers the frame above my head and he takes the door’s weight, opening it wide for me to slip through. “Did you hear me? I didn't know. You couldn't tell me, could you? That's why…” 

It's childish and immature, but I step back into the hall, fix my gaze on the door, and wait. My whole body aches and protests the loss of help, but I refuse to give in. 

Liam stays with me, but I wait and wait until he drops his hand and the door swings shut. The ache in my chest grows larger with the action. It's like my mind and heart are at war - my heart wants to sink into his arms and let him help me, but my brain wants to slam the door shut in his face.

I listen to my brain. I don't need Liam's help, because I can't rely on him. I know that for sure now. 

"Leave. I can get the door myself," I wheeze. 

The truly embarrassing thing is, Liam waits behind me, watching me struggle to find a part of my arm that doesn't hurt to push with. Gasping after over a minute of trying to summon the strength to move the door, I rest my head against the expanse of wood and let out a whimper. 

“Let me help you,” Liam whispers. 

I laugh bitterly. “The only people you'll help are Sloane and Sorrengail. I know where I stand, and I would rather die here in this hallway than accept you opening this door for me.”

“Fenryn!” Tân gasps through our bond. "I am both proud and slightly scared."

Liam's hand covers mine. “You don't mean that."

Just to show him how much I mean it, I wrench my hand out from under his, and push with all my might until I let out a roaring cry and shove open the door. 

A healer at the entrance lets out a shocked noise, then runs over, gently taking hold of me under my arm. 

Falling to my knees, I whimper and adjust in his arms. 

“Where does it hurt?” he asks. 

“Nolon,” I bite out. “I need Nolon.” 

"Your-"

"He's not with me," I whine, trying to stand. 

I wake in the ward hours later, mended by Nolon. It'll still take a few days for the swelling to go down and my injuries to properly heal, Nolon says, but it's much quicker than I thought, and I reckon I won't need to mend myself - I can deal with these injuries.

I've kept some of the more visible bruising as a reminder to myself and to everyone else. The mats will hurt me, but I'll still come back. I won't stop. 

Pulling on my black rider's vest, I notice a small wooden figurine on my bedside table. It's a beautifully intricate carving of Tân. For a split second, the world lightens. Then I see the letter it sits atop. Sighing, I open it, and the moment I see it's from Liam, I fist the letter into a ball. 

“How will you balance Malek's scales if you don't speak to Liam?” Tân asks, her voice firm. 

"You've changed your tune," I retort.

"Little one."

I sigh. Maybe the Empyrean spoke to her. Or Tairn, or Sgaeyl.

“It was Deigh. Tairn is his friend," she huffs. 

"Well, you can tell Deigh, I reckon Liam breaking his promise tipped the scales a bit.”

"How long will you stew this time?"  She's obviously unimpressed. Sometimes Tân is incredibly logical. A trait of greens, and one she only embraces when she wants me to know she thinks I'm being an idiot. Deigh must have got to her big time. 

"Not long," I sigh. I know the moment I see Liam's handsome face, blue eyes and blonde hair again I'll melt and all will be forgiven. Without the pain of my injuries overwhelming me and clouding my judgement, I understand I was being stupid in asking a marked one to fight me. Especially one who fought me last year and pulled his punches. I was about to put him in a terrible position, and we both know it. I just... I just thought he'd be there at least. 

"It's those hurts which affect humans the most," Tân yawns. "So trivial."

"Trivial?"

"You will die. He will die. Wasting time on hurt feelings. It will lead to regrets."

"Stop being the voice of reason," I mutter, limping out of the Healers Quadrant.

I stop still. Liam stands braced against the wall outside. He has a dagger in one hand and a lump of partially formed wood in the other. I look at him, then at the figure of Tân in my hand, and turn away. I can't let him know I'm on the road to forgiving him yet.

"I know you're angry," he says, kicking off the wall, "so I'm not going to make you speak to me."

"Then why are you here?" I ask with as much strength as I can muster. 

He shrugs.

"What happened to your face?" 

He shrugs to that as well. 

Sighing, I walk along the corridor, making my way back to my dorm. After ten paces, Liam's footsteps start up behind me. He follows me all the way back to the stairs which lead up to my room. When I glance back, he's gone.

My lips tip into a smile.

Chapter Text

Days later, my body is still bruised and broken. All I want to do is be in bed and do nothing. But this is Basgiath, so I can't. We've already lost one of the first years in Third Squad. With more challenges coming and sparring matches starting up soon, Tomas is intent on training the first years up to make sure they stay alive until the gauntlet. As is Aura. Which means we're doing daily training sessions. So my bruising has increased. 

Each night I allow myself to channel from Tân and get rid of one of my injuries, so it at least looks 'natural'. Or as natural as you can get. 

Liam's black eye has turned yellow. I only know from sight, as I've been avoiding the marked ones and Liam since I left the Healers Quadrant. It's not that I don't want to speak to him, as much as I don't want to give Varrish any more reason to attack me. And, looking at Liam's face, reason to attack those who were at Resson. 

The carving of Tân sits on my bedside table, facing the door. I place her there each night to protect me, and each morning I hide her away in case someone tries to steal her. 

“You can go somewhere. It's your weekend off,” Tân is restless. I can hear it in her voice. 

I sit up in bed. “What's wrong? What's happened?" 

“Nothing. Which is the issue," Tân growls. "I am leaving. Either you come with me, or you will be alone for thirty-six hours.”

A cold chill seeps through my bones. Tân does this sometimes. She'll go for a solo trip and return a couple of days later. Only once have I not been able to hear her voice, and that was a two hour stretch which scared me half to Malek's clutches. I can't let her leave me right now. What if I need protection?

"This is why I am inviting you, little one."

“Where?” 

“Aretia.” 

I let out a slow exhale. The fact that I could speak to Brennan flashes through my mind. But Bodhi said no. He said I wasn't allowed to go back to Aretia - to my first home. It could harm the revolution, especially if I'm caught. And I have yet to complete my Riders Survival Course. Who knows what I'll say if I'm caught and interrogated? 

“Do you want to stay here?” Tân asks. 

“No, but I have to think about more than just myself." There are so many others. Liam... Sloane now. The first years. So many people who might be injured or worse if I go missing in action again and Varrish decides to make them suffer for my mistakes. 

“Twenty-six hours,” she compromises. “Twelve there, stay two, twelve back.” 

That's still too long, but better. We'd miss meal times but no classes, no formations. If I play it right, no one will notice. “How do you know we'll only be two hours in Aretia?"

A surge of tingling, licking heat drives me back into my bed, back arching. My hands glide to the familiar spots over my breasts and down, lower. Focus!

I fly from my bed and open the window, gasping in the cold night's air that greets me as I try to close the connection between Tân and me. 

"Oh gods! Are you meeting Chradh?" I accuse. "Are we going to Aretia so you can have sex?” 

“I am in heat. Judge me and I won't take you and you'll be on your own.” 

“Fuck. Okay.”

The first time this happened, I understood why all the riders seem to fuck each other half the time. Only, in my first few months at Basgiath I was intent on staying alive. The next few I was dealing with learning what was my body feeling emotions, and what was Tân's influence. Now I know how to keep her emotions out, but if I'm surprised by them, they slam into me. Just like the night outside. Just like now. And now I'm in the position where I don't know which riders are joking or who are drunk, and it's been so long that I have the romantic notion of wanting to trust the person who's my first. 

“Coming?” 

“Yes.” 

Wincing, I walk to my armoire and remove my uniform. I should have done as Nolon said and stretched out my bruising last night before bed, but I needed sleep more. Just two hours later, after the sudden movement of running across my bedroom to find relief from sexual desire, I regret my decision.

I dress in my off duty uniform. It's the same as my other three, but it's never had blood on it. It makes it feel special. I'll meet Tân at the flight fields, so I leave a note telling Cohen I'm off for a little trek to practice for the RSC, and walk as quickly as I can to the fields. 

Thank the gods it's dark. No one will see me creeping across the courtyard, sneaking through the shadows. 

Thump. 

I bump into a wall and curse under my breath. A shock of fear spears my heart when the wall moves. Oh gods. It's a moving wall. With hands. A moving wall with hands which grab me by the waist and push me back into another wall - an actual wall. 

"Name?" The voice is so low and deep I have no idea who it is. 

I clear my throat. "Fen-"

“-ryn. Fuck's sake. Where are you going?” Bodhi asks exasperatedly, his voice returning to usual.  

“Where are you going?” I counter, relief driving me to interact with him. 

Bodhi makes an unimpressed noise. “Tell me you're not wearing a nightdress, ready to sneak off to the gardens and meet Tân."

I grin through the darkness. "I can confirm I am wearing my uniform." I grab one of his hands and trace his fingers over the buttons down my front. "See? And I can confirm I'm not meeting Tân at the gardens."

He steps back, and the moonlight shines over his head and shoulders. He peers around the courtyard, and returns to his place in front of me. "Fine. But don't do anything stupid."

"I won't."

I step to the side, almost free. His hand firms around my bicep. "Wait." He sighs deeply. "Just to check, you're not doing something even more stupid like going to Aretia are you?" 

My mouth opens and closes repeatedly as I try to think of an answer which isn't 'Me? Aretia? No way!' I settle for: “I'm not going to Aretia.” 

Bodhi sighs again. “Are you lying?”

“No.” I answer too quickly. He knows. He knows. 

Bodhi steps closer. His hand still holds me firmly, and I can't escape. He's too strong, and I can't see where I'm going. “You are, aren't you?” 

“No.” I grab his fingers and pry his hand off me. Only, when I go to dash away, I let out a strangled noise as my neck collides with a thick branch. No, an arm. I let out an exasperated noise and settle into the cage between Bodhi's arms. 

“I can't tell if you're lying, and that's not good.” 

“It is good actually," I counter. "I have a whole interrogation I need to get through later this year and-”

“Fuck," he interrupts, "Ryn, I told you—” 

“Ryn?” I scoff. "Fenryn, thank you." 

“Your full name’s a little too close to my uncle’s for my liking.” 

I cross my arms over my chest and glare up at him. 

“Gods, I can feel your glare from here,” he says, the roll of his eyes evident in his voice. “Look. I told you not to go back there.” 

“And I told you, if Tân goes, I go.” 

“Shit." He's quiet for a long minute and I have the feeling he's talking to his dragon. I don't know his or her name though.

"Cuir," Tân tells me. 

"Why is Tân going there?" Bodhi questions. "She won't answer Cuir." 

I don't know why people keep trying to get their dragons to speak to Tân. She's notoriously aloof with all of them and she's even said the only dragon or person she's ever been open with is me.

"Tân?"

"Tell him, little one. I grow impatient." 

“She wants to see her almost mate,” I answer. Tân's growl fills my head. "Ugh, sorry, not mate. She wants, you know. And if I don't go-"

Bodhi hums. I feel it everywhere. The vibrations seep into my bones and settle in my lower belly until I'm biting my lip to hide my moan. Focus! Where did that come from?

"Please stop," I whine to Tân. 

"You are in charge of letting me in or out right now. I cannot help my feelings." 

“And if you don't go with her, you'll be unsafe here,” Bodhi says, finishing the sentence I couldn't. 

Still grappling with my body, I stammer, “Ex- exactly," and place my head back against the wall.

He growls. Like, actually growls. It doesn't help me at all. My body reacts and my eyes widen. What in Malek's name is going on!? 

A single footstep sounds. 

“Thank fuck. Take over,” Bodhi says, stepping back until he's in the moonlight, the lines of his face shining in the darkness. “She's not listening to sense.” 

I blink, peering through the shadows. I can't see anyone in the courtyard, so who... “Who's there?” I ask. 

“Fenryn.” Liam’s voice carries to my ears so faintly I almost think he's not really there. He must be halfway across the courtyard. “It's me, Liam.” 

“You can see me?” I whisper, peering through the dark. My body is still on high alert and I'm almost tempted to run over to where he is and mount him. 

“My signet is farsight,” Liam replies, closer now but still not within touching distance. 

What? I feel so drunk on this desire that a giggle bubbles from my belly to my chest. Even through the haze, I know I can't laugh at someone's signet. I shouldn't. But somehow, this is hilarious. His signet is not needing glasses!? I turn away from Liam, facing the wall so he won't see the way my lips curve into a smile. Of all the signets, he has farsight? 

“Useful in battle,” Tân scolds. Her words ring true and the smile drops from my face. I look over my shoulder, but I still can't see Liam. 

“Take over,” Bodhi says, stepping further away.

I hear hissing, catch Liam saying, "Violet", then a sigh.

“Fine,” Bodhi says, “I'll see you in the morning.” He doesn't sound happy. “You owe me, big time.”

“Take it up with Xaden," Liam whispers. He raises his voice slightly. "I'm sorry, Fenryn. For what happened. I'll make it up to you. I just can't tonight." His careful footsteps fall silent after three, and I clench my jaw. He didn't stay? He said sorry and didn't stay? 

“You have to speak to him at some point,” Bodhi says, returning to his spot just behind me. "In the daylight, I mean." 

Does he need to be any closer? I frown over my shoulder. Ah. The shadow we're hiding in has shifted. If he stepped back, he could be seen, and if we're here for a while arguing, he's not safe with his back to potential threats. Fine. 

“I don't think he's done enough stewing,” I reply, shaking my head. I know that's not the truth, but if Tân doesn't get laid soon, it'll be worth me avoiding Liam for one more day. 

Bodhi huffs a laugh. “I'm guessing me punching him in the face doesn't count as enough punishment?” 

I look over my shoulder at where I think his face is. “You punched him? I thought he was attacked. Why would you do that?” 

“He broke a promise.” 

“He was three minutes late. Something must have held him up, and-” Oh. I know what he's doing. It's my turn to huff a breath. “Fine. I'll speak to him when I get back.” My stomach flops at the idea of being close to Liam again.

“Good," Bodhi says. "Now, I strongly advise you not to do this. But if you choose to, you have to be back before classes in two days or you'll be spending a lot more time in Aretia. I won't tell anyone where you're going, but don't be stupid, Ryn.”

"Thank you." I reach up to move his forearm from where he's braced it against the wall by my head, and my fingers catch on the buttery leather of his flight jacket. I suck in a breath. “Wait! Were you–”

Bodhi's hand covers my mouth. His chest presses me tightly against the wall. “Quiet,” he says.

When I nod, he lowers his hand. The ever present heat means time seems to stop as my bottom lip catches on his thumb, pulling down. His hand traces a path down my collarbone and shoulder, then leaves me altogether, bracing against the wall beside my head once more. 

“You were flying,” I hiss, “and you're accusing me of breaking the rules?” 

I feel his sigh on my cheek. “It’s a completely different situation.” 

I scoff. “If I was—”

I have to stifle my moan as his lips press against my ear. “Say ‘if I was fucking a Wingleader’ one more time. It was funny twice. That was your limit. That wingleader is my cousin, and he's in a relationship with Violet.” 

He retreats an inch and I can breathe again. 

Think! A good retort! Come on. You've got this. “I always thought you were the fun one.” 

Bodhi sighs and ducks his head, his curls brushing against my cheek. “I am. It's just a lot right now. If you want happy Bodhi, you have to get on my good side, which means you'll stop making issues for me."  

“How do you know I want to be on your good side at all?” I ask. 

Something stirs low in my belly. I twist my thighs to get some friction as I throb with heat. The combination of darkness and his low timbre I guess, and I arch my back, driving my arse into his…

Fuck.

I still. My back and arse are flush to his chest and hips. Bodhi doesn't say anything. He doesn't breathe either. My mind whirrs to a stop, then restarts with embarrassment flashing at the forefront of my mind. Did I just… did I just… 

Another surge, and gasping, I wriggle my hips, arching even more. 

I slam my hips forward into the wall, as far from Bodhi as I can get. 

Tân's laughter fills my mind. I block it out immediately, glaring into the wall as I focus on shutting out her feelings from me. The heat that drove my arse into Bodhi’s hips seeps away, but not entirely. 

“What the actual fuck was that, Ryn?” Bodhi's voice has somehow lowered an entire octave. 

I blink. "I told you," I whisper. “Tân's in heat. I didn't mean to.” 

He pauses. "Who knows you're gone?” he asks, voice almost back to normal. 

I let out a slow, shaky exhale. “Er— Cohen? I left a note so he'll think I've gone for a trek.” 

“Do you do that often?” 

“Yes. I like my own space.”

He huffs another laugh and I just know he's smirking. “Not tonight evidently. What would your boyfriend say if he knew you were—” 

My glare returns, as I block out the heat. “Fuck. Off,” I interrupt. “And I don't have a boyfriend.”

“Does your squadmate know that? Because he kisses you like you're his,” Bodhi replies. “Liam's noticed it more than once.” 

Liam. Shit. Does he think Cohen and I… 

“Well you can tell Liam he's wrong. We're not. Never have been, never will be. He's just affectionate. He had more of a thing with Gayl than he’ll ever have with me and even that only lasted a few days.” Gods, why am I rambling? 

“And?” Bodhi asks, not reacting at all to my ramble. 

“And what?” 

“Who else knows you're gone?” 

“No one. But it's not unusual for me to be gone for a full day. Tân enjoys long rides.”

“Well, we have that in common,” he quips, finally releasing me. He doesn't say goodbye. I only know he's gone because his arms leave the wall, then ten seconds later he whistles from the entryway to the dorms. I stand against the wall for a long minute catching my breath. 

“What did he say?” Tân chuffs.

“Fuck. Off.” 

“Barely any of that was me. Now mount Deigh's rider,” she quips. 

“I'm strongly considering it.” 

There's silence across our bond until I reach the edge of the courtyard. “I'm proud of you.” 

I swallow thickly. The idea of being intimate with anyone scares me for many reasons. I have to be in control for the same reasons. I can't be vulnerable. I can't let anyone see how scared I always am, or know about the pit in my stomach that's filled with every emotion I've buried. 

“Bodhi knows,” Tân reminds me unhelpfully. “He understands.” 

I stop still, close my eyes and shake my head. The Healers Quadrant. He saw me bury my feelings. “Fuck. Do you think he'll tell Liam?”

“Who knows? Hurry up.” 

“Going somewhere?” Varrish's voice sends a tidal wave of fear crashing down over me. It feels like ice and fire and everything in between. I step back into as much shadow as I can and try to control my breathing. 

“Tân?” 

“I'm here. Wait.” 

I do as she says, biting down on my lip so hard I feel something trickle down my chin, and the saltiness of blood fills my mouth. 

Someone steps out ahead of me. I don't know the person from their back, I can just hear the fear in their voice when they say, “I was just—” 

“Come with me,” Varrish interrupts. His tone suggests there's no wiggle room. The footsteps retreat. I let them go and count to a hundred and twenty before I slip away, walking on shaky legs which barely hold me upright.

I walk as far as a line of trees. Luckily, I notice Tân's claw poking out of the ground where she's burrowed her feet deep to pretend to be a tree. I climb up her leg and can't help my laugh when I reach her back and realise she's at least a third taller than the treeline she's hiding in, so she's not really hiding at all. 

"Ready to go?" she asks, launching into the sky before I have a chance to answer. 

Chapter Text

Aretia is just as I left it.

Tân flies us high over the mass of stone buildings until we reach the one built into the mountainous rock. She drops me at Riorson House, then heads off for her rendezvous.

My jump from her back leaves me with two broken ankles and I find relief in the act of mending them near-instantaneously - I was beginning to worry my signet was waning in power. 

The front doors are locked, so I scale the building, finding hand and foot holds in the gaps between stone blocks in the external wall. Even if I ignored my childhood of climbing in and out of windows, it's not much of an effort, and I make a mental note to inform Brennan of the issue - if I can climb this place in my uniform and boots, there's a chance other people will too - people with red eyes who occasionally haunt my dreams. 

I reach a roof on the second floor and don't have to search long before I find an open window to climb into. Slipping inside, I make my way back downstairs to where I think the people will be.  

The dining hall is deserted apart from a few people I don't recognise, but I find Garrick and Brennan in the room Liam, Bodhi and Imogen were leaving when they caught me dressed only in a bedsheet. The two riders are dressed in black and appear to be talking logistics, if the state of the map on the gigantic table in front of them means anything. It's covered in flags and models of dragons, gryphons and red counters.

Brennan looks just as he did when I first met him, with amber dragon-like eyes and auburn hair. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he licks his lips while moving a piece across the table. Garrick says something and moves his own piece. He has bruises over his face, ones bad enough to rival mine. 

"They being mean at Samara?" I ask, walking as confidently as I can into the room. This is a place I'm definitely not meant to be, and a situation I'm definitely not meant to be involved in. I had expected I'd be intruding, but not on something like this. And I know the lack of announcement of my arrival means they're well within their rights to murder me on the spot. 

Garrick's head snaps up. His hand moves to the dagger sheaths at his ribs. Brennan's face betrays his shock and anger at my presence as he grabs his sword. I sink into a chair as far away from them as I can get, and hold up my hands. I hope they can't see the shaking from halfway down the table. 

"I come in peace," I say. 

Garrick's hand firms around the hilt of the nearest dagger. "Why are you here?" 

"Chradh's busy for the next couple of hours," I tell him.

Garrick frowns, then rolls his eyes and drops his hand from his dagger. "Fuck's sake." He returns to the map and moves another dragon to Aretia. I flatter myself it's Tân, but it's painted red, not Tân's green. "We only just got here. They must have planned it." 

Brennan places his sword onto the table. He's evidently been informed by his dragon on the goings on in the fields as well. 

"Will he actually mate with her?" I ask. Tân's busy and has already shut me out. Hopefully she'll never know I asked Chradh's rider about their mating status. If she does, I expect Deigh will hear about my lust for Liam. 

Garrick shrugs. "Not until you've finished Basgiath at least-" 

That makes sense. Usually dragons wait to mate until their riders can be stationed together, or they bond with riders at the same time to stop any issues of long distance relationships.

"-and hopefully not then either." 

I narrow my eyes. Is he saying Tân's not good enough for Chradh? "Why not?" Because if that's what he's saying, I'm sure Chradh could find a new rider. 

"You don't want to be stationed at Samara." Garrick pushes another dragon away and sighs. 

Pursing my lips, I settle in and kick my legs up on the table. "Is that what happened to your face?" 

"It's not as bad for me as for..." He draws a breath. "But yes. I'll expect the attack next time." 

"Do you need Mending?" 

"No." The side of his mouth tugs into a half smile. "It's nothing I can't handle." 

"And what happened to your face?" Brennan asks, eyes softening. "It looks bad." 

"Varrish." 

Garrick and Brennan suck breath through their teeth and shake their heads in unison. 

"His reputation precedes him," Brennan says, walking over to me. "Among riders and fliers alike. I can't believe they put him in charge of the college." 

"You can't?" I ask, frowning.

Brennan grimaces. "I can. That sympathetic addition was for your benefit." 

He holds out a hand and I allow him to gently trace the bruising on my face. It's a Menders trick, so I know he's burrowing his magic into my injury to see if there's anything he can do to fix me.

"You're keeping the surface injuries so Varrish will think you're worse off than you are," he surmises, stepping back. "Good." He sits in the chair beside me. "You didn't need to come with Tân. Why are you really here?" 

I think for a minute. I don't want him to know the truth - that I'm scared. But I need to tell him enough. "You said before if I stayed here, you could teach me more than at Basgiath." 

Brennan nods. "I did, didn't I?" The skin beside his eyes crinkles. "I can. But not in six hours."

"Less. Tân said we'll be here for two," I counter. 

Garrick smirks. "Chradh's always been good with efficiency and by the sounds of things, Tân's fast." 

Brennan lets out a breath of a laugh. "Well, two is even worse." 

"They're dying," I say, lowering my voice. "The first years. And I have to watch it. Let's start with what I can do now." 

"Never gets easier," Garrick says. "You just get used to working out which ones will survive. Even then, you can't let your guard down. Not for one moment." 

"And you can't go round healing all of them all the time," Brennan adds. "It'll take too much magic from Tân and leave you vulnerable each and every time you channel." 

"That's your lesson? Don't do the one thing I'm asking you for lessons in?" I scoff. "Perfect, thank you. I'm glad I travelled twelve hours for this." 

"From Basgiath?" Brennan asks. "It takes sixteen." 

"Like I said, Tân is fast," Garrick answers for me, moving to a table placed along the wall. "Here." He returns with a goblet containing a red liquid, and a plate filled with a piece of cake, two apples, bread, and a hunk of cheese. He places both in front of me. 

I fall upon the meal and all manners go out of the window as I savour each morsel. "Thank you," I say once I'm finished. Twelve hours of flying hasn't helped my hunger levels, and we didn't stop. Tân flew low over a lake to drink without stopping, so I haven't eaten since dinner last evening. 

"You can't save them all," Brennan says. "So don't try. Focus on what you can do." 

"Which is what?" 

"Survive."

"Survive? That's easy," I scoff. "Why didn't I think of that before?" 

"I'm sorry about your friend," Garrick says, settling across from us with his own drink.

"How did you know about that?" I ask, pushing my plate away. The red drink is thicker than water and I chug it down. By the time I've finished my belly tingles and warmth rushes from my throat to my toes. Wine. I haven't tasted wine in a long time. Especially not like this. 

"Xaden," Garrick replies. He sips from his own goblet. "He was at Basgiath that day. He told me you saved Nadine's life." 

I laugh bitterly. "I didn't. She died yesterday. Nolon did everything he could but it wasn't enough. And that means Riorson was at Basgiath when this happened too." I point to my face. I explain what happened with Nadine in the Healers Quadrant, through to what happened with Varrish and what he said to me. "Liam was meant to fight me but he was late and Halfsson stepped up."

Garrick's eyes narrow. "He. Was. Late?" His voice is so low I almost mistake him for a dragon. "So. You. Fought. Halfsson?" 

"Big guy?" Brennan asks. 

"Think my build. He's pretty reliable for a good spar but has never beaten Xaden or me."

"Obviously," Brennan smirks. 

I explain the fight, or what I remember of it at least.

Garrick whistles. "And Liam was late?" he repeats. 

I nod. "Busy, I think. I don't know, we haven't spoken much since." 

Garrick crosses his arms. It's a little funny, seeing someone with such massive arms crossing them over his chest. It's like a gigantic oak tree moving its branches around. "I'll speak to him." 

"About what?" 

"About what really happened. It's Liam. He doesn't break his promises." 

I shrug. "That's not the impression I've had. Then again, I'm not marked, I'm not Sorrengail, and I'm not important to you all bar my signet."

"You should have more faith in yourself," Brennan counters. 

"The last woman who told me I mattered was murdered because she stood too close to Sorrengail on assessment day, so please excuse me if I don't believe you."

"You say this was the evening of assessment day?" Garrick asks slowly, swirling his goblet around. I nod, and he says, "Time?" 

"Eight?" 

He nods. "Xaden. It was his fault. Bodhi and Liam went to get him from" - he pauses and his throat bobs - "somewhere. Xaden and Bodhi were five minutes late to" - he pauses again - "drop off. It must be linked." 

"You really should get better at lying," I sigh. "So Liam was late because Riorson was with Violet and they were five minutes late to a weapons drop?"

Garrick's gaze flicks to mine. I see a hint of a smile in his eyes. "I can neither confirm nor deny any of that." 

"Liam has to apologise and tell me himself," I say, my belly churning in response to the new information. Bodhi and Xaden were together and once again Sorrengail was truly the reason for the worst day of my life so far. No, that's a lie. Unfortunately, definitely a lie. 

Tân's growling fills my ears. "I am leaving. I will fly past in two minutes." 

I stand and listen for her roar in the distance. "What's happened?" 

"Two minutes, little one." She snaps her teeth.

"Tân! What. Is. Wrong!? Tell me right now." 

"You have your secrets, little one, as do I." 

"Tân's angry about something. I have to go," I say, running to the exit. I pause at the door and glance over my shoulder. "Can I come back for actual lessons?" 

Brennan nods. "Bring actual questions next time. And we'll work on your control first." 

"Thank you," I say. I turn to Garrick and nod. "Tavis." 

"Zynd," he replies, picking up a piece of my discarded cake. "Wait. How did you get in?" 

"Window on the second floor," I shout as I run up the stairs. 

I take a running jump from the second floor roof, arms and legs running in the air. I land on Tân's back as she passes, her wings clasped to her sides so she can glide overhead unheard. The large wooden door to Riorson House sits open, and I lean over. Garrick and Brennan stand on the step outside, watching us fly away. 

Cohen's in my room when I return in the late evening, lying on my bed, eating my carefully hidden snacks. "Where were you?" he asks through a mouthful. 

"A trek." I shrug off my jacket and slip it onto a hanger in my armoire. "I left you a note. What happened?" 

"I was hoping you were lying." He eats another sweet. "Not much happened. Aura just decided we needed to switch things up again so we're Second Squad now, and Brisa's with us."

Brisa, a bald headed second year in Second Squad who's known for her efficiency isn't too bad an addition to our little unit, but having someone new down the hall will be hard. And for Cohen, having his ex down the hall will be hard too. "Will she have the common room?" 

Cohen shakes his head. "Gayl's." 

"What!?" I land on my bed face down, bouncing a little. "Why?" My question is muffled, but Cohen pats my back and answers. 

"My job is not to question orders. Especially not now." 

I sit up, narrowing my eyes. "Septon didn't complete the paperwork to move us to Third Squad last year, did he?" 

"Nope," Cohen laughs sadly. "And by the sounds of things Varrish noticed." 

Grumbling, I ease myself onto my back and cross my arms. "Cohen?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you actually want to have sex with me?" 

Cohen chokes. I crack an eye to watch him. 

"I'm sorry, but no," he wheezes. "I can stop joking about it if you want?" 

"No, not my issue, don't worry," I sigh, looking back up at the ceiling. "Someone mentioned it the other day." 

He chuckles. I hear the sweets rustle. "Someone's jealous eh? Love it." 

"You do?" 

"Of course. That means someone's interested in you. Otherwise, how would you know how they feel? Apart from straight up asking them?" 

I exhale slowly. "That's true. Let's hope you're right, because I have a thing for Liam Mairi." Silence meets my words. "Cohen?" I turn my head.

He sits beside me, hand filled with sweets halfway to his open mouth. His grey eyes are so wide they almost bug out of his head. 

"Fuck off!" I cry, rolling onto my front, burying my face in my pillow. 

"You what?" Cohen shouts. The bed bounces. I shift. He rises to his feet and starts to jump. I shove his legs to stop him, and he falls to his knees and starts to drum on my back. "Mairi? How did I not know this?" 

"I told Gayl," I reply, hiding my face in my pillow again. 

My admission gives me about a five second reprieve before he starts slapping again. 

A knock at the door interrupts him. We both turn to stare. Apart from Gayl and Cohen, I can't remember the last time someone's come to see me in the dorms. A sinking in my gut precedes my worry that maybe it's Varrish again. 

"Come in?" I call. 

The door swings open to reveal a mass of blonde hair. Sighing, I roll onto my back and point at Cohen. "Cohen, Sloane. Sloane, Cohen." 

"Pretty sure you're not meant to be up here," Cohen says, sinking back against my pillows. "Second years and Second Wing only." 

I roll my eyes and beckon Sloane inside. "Ignore him, he's just avoiding his ex who we're now in a squad with. What's up?"

"Er, well, I know you're avoiding my brother," Sloane says, watching Cohen carefully. "But I'm headed to the library if you wanted to join?" 

"Brother?" Cohen turns to me with an accusatory smile. 

"Liam Mairi. Do you know him?" Sloane asks. 

Cohen's smile widens. "As Fenryn's friend, I must advise her to go to this study session." 

"Leave me alone." I stand and retrieve my notebook and pen. "You'd best be gone by the time I get back." 

Cohen grumbles and shoves his hand back into my paper bag of sweets. 

"Shut. Up." 

"I just... I assumed you weren't interested in anyone," Cohen says, shrugging. 

I wish I'd never said anything about Liam days ago, but Cohen won't leave it alone now that I have. I can't even blame my annoyance on my bruising, as most of it has gone now, and since Tomas has taken over, we're much more lax when it comes to training our first years. Maribel had something to prove. Tomas says he's happy to let the cadets just get a feel for the mats before challenges begin.

Sorrengail, Imogen and Liam stand side by side on the other side of the mat, watching Sloane fight our second squad first year, Jacek. His brother died a few days ago and he's been a little ball of anger ever since. I would be too, if I knew Plath had been beaten to a pulp in her bedroom here. 

I have to figure out how to put wards in my room. If they can get to a second year, they can get to me. 

"Tomas," Matthias complains for the hundredth time when Sloane goes down thanks to a good punch from Jacek. 

"She's not ready," Cohen mutters. 

"So everyone is saying around her," I counter, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's not helping that we're all whispering and she's trying to concentrate." 

Cohen falls silent beside me and I bump his arm with my elbow to say sorry for snapping. He shakes his head. "Jacek's brother was on the scrolls. He's taking it out on her. But he shouldn't." 

"Want to get in there instead?" 

"Do you?" 

I rub my forehead and shake my head. "No." Challenges start again next week and I'm not excited to take part at all. I know I won't be against Halfsson, but it could be anyone. And who knows if my punishment from Varrish is enough for him to leave me alone now. 

Liam calls something across to Sloane, who bristles, then ducks, weaves, and punches out. Jacek deflects the blow easily and lands a punch to Sloane's side. 

"Right, I'm calling it," Matthias says, holding up a hand. 

"You can't help her. She's in another wing." Tân's right. I can't help her. Even though I want to.

I've spent two nights working in the library with Sloane and a few of the marked ones and their friends now, and she's growing on me. Fuck. I know she's not meant to, but she is. My issue is, Liam isn't helping her. I don't know if she doesn't want him to or not, but she keeps coming to me for advice, and I can't train her. Not with my Second Wing cadets to think about. And if she doesn't start training soon she'll not be around for any sibling time. 

Jacek steps off the mat, stalking off towards the door. Sloane staggers to her feet. Liam reaches out to take her hand but she shakes her head and makes her way over to me and Cohen. 

"Why is she coming over here?" Cohen asks. 

My gaze darts between Cohen and Sloane. I think my life would be infinitely easier if I had an invisibility signet, but I don't, so I'm forced to stand while she approaches. 

"How did you do it?" Her blonde hair falls around her shoulders, released from her shoddy braid. Her lip is cut, and her face is blotchy and red from where Jacek choked her. 

"Do what?" 

"Keep going." 

"When?"

"On the mat. The other day." 

My chest constricts. My lungs feel like they've been put in a vice and dunked into ice cold water. Pin pricks race across my eyes, bringing tears which I blink away. My mind races. Do I tell the truth? Should I be sarcastic? Should I be aloof? Should I figure out what she wants to hear? 

Sloane opens and closes her mouth. "I just-" She glances at Cohen, who holds up his hands and walks away, whistling. Sloane's throat bobs. Her face turns a deeper red, and she ducks her head. "I didn't mean to insult you," she says, "we just... We've all talked about it. You were on the mat and you were incredible for ages. It was like a proper fight. Not sparring like this." 

"I had to," I say finally, ending her obvious suffering. 

Her brow wrinkles. "What do you mean?" 

I purse my lips and look up to the ceiling, then back at her. "Lesson for you. Don't rely on other people. I don't have anyone to protect me in here or out there. I don't have parents. I don't have a sister. I don't have money. I don't have anything. I don't even have the respect of the cadets." 

"Yes you do. Liam-"

"Was three minutes late to volunteer to fight me," I interrupt, with a shrug. My anger's long since dissipated, so I managed to keep my voice even tempered easily enough. "I begged him to help me on that mat and he promised he would be there, then he wasn't. So trust me, you can't rely on anyone but yourself. Keep your wits about you, and notice everything about your opponent." 

Her blue eyes widen as I speak and I'm sure I can see the moment I shatter the idea of her brother in her head. "But you saved his life," she whispers. 

I try not to let my surprise show that she knows what happened at Resson. "Yeah, and look where that got me." I groan and rub my chin. "It's... It's a complicated situation, and I'm going back and forth with my feelings on it. I shouldn't have said that. I'm just in a bad mood today." 

Sloane looks up, gaze meeting mine. "Liam's making me train. At night. From this evening. So I won't be able to make our study sessions anymore. Will you come along to training instead?" 

"Why?" 

"To fight me. To get back at Liam." 

My mouth drops open. "Mairi!" I snap, glaring at Liam, who runs over. "Make sure your sister knows never to suggest what she just suggested to me ever again. I am not in the market for revenge, and if I was, my list would not include her." 

I reach out and grab Sloane's arm. Before Liam can move my hand away, I have taken on Sloane's split lip, fractured rib, bruised side, and my body is mending them.

"Your job, Mairi," I say, removing my hand, "is to survive this place. I know what it's like to lose a sister and I will not let you put yourself in harms way or lose your brother." 

"I didn't mean to make you angry," she whispers. 

"You didn't." I blink, drawing a breath. "I just don't want anyone to think I'm heartless." 

"Love hurts," Tân whines. She's not wrong. It fucking sucks. I don't even want to be the top choice for someone. I just want to be an adjacent choice. Like, protect Violet and Fenryn. 

"Wait, no, I'm not in love," I counter, realising what she said. 

"Then why are you complaining so much?"

"I could never think that," Sloane says. She glances up at Liam, then back at me. "Please come tonight?" 

I look at Liam, asking his permission for me to stay out of this. He clears his throat. "Yeah, you should come too." 

I let out a breath of a laugh. "Gods, fine. You don't have to pester me." 

Sloane snorts at my sarcasm, but it takes Liam a moment to understand my words. 

"I really, really would like you to be there." He sends me a bright half-smile and I feel myself melt. "It might give us a chance to talk." 

Chapter Text

I arrive at the training rooms three minutes late. The lights are on, and Imogen stands by a stack of weights, speaking to another third year - a woman I recognise as Eya. I don't know much about her, but she was at Resson, so I trust her. 

Sorrengail and Gamlyn are also here, meaning the marked ones won't be in trouble for being gathered in a group more than three. I wave to everyone and put my bag down at the side. Sloane is at one of the far mats, a frown tugging her brows together and her lips down. 

That's when I see what she's watching, and I realise I should never have agreed to train with Liam. 

"Do you understand the allure of sweaty half naked men now?" Cohen whispers at my ear.  

I ignore him, but yes, yes I do. Liam and Bodhi have stripped down. They wear their leathers but no shirts. Both their relics and signets are on clear display, as are their muscles.

I watch Liam squat, grab Bodhi around the hips, and haul him up into the air. Liam dodges out of the way of one of Bodhi's elbows, and throws Bodhi across the mat. 

Cohen says something else but I don't care what, and I definitely don't pay any attention to him. 

Bodhi jumps to his feet, taking purposeful steps around the edge of the mat, staying close to the floor. Liam walks in a circle, keeping distance between them. He rolls his shoulders and tenses his stomach to show off his muscles. Bodhi chuckles, his attention taken for a split second.

Liam pounces. As agile as a cat, he jumps across the mat and secures his arm around Bodhi's neck. 

Bodhi doesn't give in. He curls his arm and grabs Liam's thigh. Standing, he roars, rotates his arm, then slams Liam's back against the mat. 

I gasp. 

Liam curses and rolls out from under Bodhi's grip. 

"Fenryn!"

Sloane's voice cuts through my haze of inappropriate thoughts and I swallow thickly. 

"Do you need a minute?" Cohen asks. 

"Shut. Up," I hiss, making my way over to Sloane, who makes space for me beside her. "How's it going?" 

"You're late." It's not a question so much as a statement. Sloane's eyes widen. "Did something happen?"

I shake my head. "Lateness is the kind of revenge I'm into," I say with a smile. 

Sloane huffs a laugh. "Bodhi said you might not come at all, so I'm glad you're just a bit late. They're meant to be showing me what stage I could get to with training, but I don't know how I'll ever get this good."  

A thump is followed closely by a string of hissed curses. I turn back to the mat to see Bodhi and Liam sprawled out, Liam holding his shoulder, Bodhi holding his rib. Imogen shouts from across the gym, calling them "absolute idiots", and Cohen comes to stand beside me. 

Groaning, they both look at each other, then tap the mat once. A time out, neither of them yielding. 

"What the actual... How did you do that?" I ask, stepping onto the mat, ignoring the way warmth rushes to my cheeks and lower at the sight of Liam sprawled out. It makes me almost forget his sister is standing behind me. Almost. 

Without thinking, I squat between the two men to place one hand onto Liam's shoulder and the other onto Bodhi's chest. I channel from Tân, who chuffs and allows me access to the magic I need to heal them. Closing my eyes as the pain intensifies and settles into my chest and shoulder, my fingers grip their skin. My eyebrows knit together and I gasp, my breathing increasing as the pain flows through me. 

Panting, I open my eyes and rub my shoulder, then ribs. "You shouldn't be injuring yourselves like this. Especially not now," I scold, ignoring the way my stomach flops at the look on Liam's face as he stares up at me. "After Jacek, it could be any of us next." 

Before I can do something I shouldn't, like straddle Liam, slide my fingers into his hair and kiss him, I stand and wipe my hands on my leathers. 

"What was that about them showing you things you couldn't do?" I ask Sloane, returning to my place beside the mat. "Because I'm sure most people can fail like that." Sloane snorts. Cohen frowns at my shoulder. I shrug. "Channelling from Tân when I'm already injured sucks," I say, hoping he'll accept that as an answer and not pry. He still doesn't know the extent of my signet and I'm not sure who I want to know. 

"I can imagine," he mutters. His gaze moves to Imogen. 

"Don't try it, she's a third year." Stretching my shoulder, I roll my head back and round. Cohen runs off anyway. Now around people who know my signet, I wince and grip my shoulder. "Fuck, this was a bad break." 

"Let me help you." Taking my elbow, Liam leads me to a bench at the side of the room.

He slides his fingers underneath the top of my vest and begins to rub my injury. My body is knitting itself together, and fast, but this feels incredible - having his fingers on my skin. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against the wall and slow my breathing. 

The pain eases and I relax even more. "Thank you," I sigh. I take a deep breath, then open my eyes. Liam stares back at me, his blue eyes fixed on my brown. "What?" I breathe. 

"Thank you for letting me help this time." 

This makes me duck my head at the uncomfortable memory of my anger outside the Healing Quadrant. "I'm not angry anymore, just... Hurt." 

"Yeah, Bodhi said you might be," Liam says sliding his hand from my shoulder. "He told me about the other night."

"He did?"

Liam nods. Reaching into his pockets, he removes a knife and a small block of wood, which he starts carving. My gods. This man is topless, sitting right next to me, carving. I need to say something, but what? 

"Why didn't you fight me?" I blurt out. Ah, great. Yes. Well, Malek, please come and swallow me up whole. 

Liam stares at me for too long of a beat. "I can't talk about it. I can just say I'm sorry I was late." 

"Garrick said Xaden held you up." 

"Why are you helping him? Let him grovel." Tân sends a surge of anger through me. Luckily, it leaves me just as quickly as it came. 

"Tell me why we had to leave Aretia so fast," I retort. Tân's been quiet since we returned, even for her. She won't speak to me about it, and she won't say if Chradh pissed her off, or if something else happened. 

Tân doesn't reply. 

"When did you speak to Garrick?" Liam shifts in his seat, until his knee presses against mine.

"He was in" - I lower my voice - "Aretia."

Liam's eyes widen. He leans closer. "When did you go to Aretia?"

"That night you saw me in the courtyard. That's why Bodhi asked you to talk sense into me. Though, if I'm honest I wouldn't have gone if I'd ended up grinding on you instead." My breath catches in my throat. I clutch my shoulder. Shit. I'm always more open when my body's healing a bad injury. I just didn't think I'd be with Liam when I said it. 

"What?" 

Heat rises to my cheeks. "Well, it really was Tân. You know, the whole grinding thing. Because of her being in heat."  

"Grinding?" 

Oh, this just got worse. He doesn't know what it's called. "When I rubbed my arse against Bodhi's-" I stop. From the look on his face... "Oh shit. He didn't tell you?" 

Liam looks over at Bodhi, who has his top on again and is showing Sloane how to throw someone, using a disgruntled looking Cohen as his dummy. "Must have slipped his mind." 

"Probably wasn't as big a thing as I thought. That's good." I laugh nervously. "I've been avoiding him for days. Guess I didn't need to." Frowning, I take in Liam's hard stare. "He was really nice about it. He didn't say anything at first, just froze, then when I said it was Tân, he moved the conversation on." 

"I'm sure he did," Liam mutters, returning to his carving. "Have you worked out how to block Tân's feelings out yet? If not, you should probably learn." 

"Yes," I say, bristling, "I have. But you try contending with a dragon in heat." 

"She was in heat?" Liam's knife pauses over his carving. "Then why did you have to go to Aretia?" 

"Oi! You two! We have to go," Gamlyn interrupts. He points to a third year who's standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Now I look around, most of the room have left, bar Sorrengail who waits with Gamlyn and Matthias at the door. "They need the room or something." 

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow." Liam runs to Sorrengail's side, grabbing his shirt on the way. They leave together. 

Gamlyn smirks when I reach him within half a minute. "Having fun?" 

"Fuck off Gamlyn." 

"Whoa, don't jump down my throat because you couldn't jump Liam in front of his sister." 

"Excuse me? What do you-" 

A scream builds and dies in my throat before I can open my mouth as a bag is pulled over my head. Something sweet fills my nostrils. 

"Cohen?" I groan, blinking lazily at the bright sunshine above me. Cohen lies beside me, doing the same. 

"Yeah." 

"At least we're not dead then," I say, sitting. 

"Bold of you to assume." Brisa rubs her arms and frowns around. She's cropped her hair even shorter than usual, into more of a shaven look than a buzz cut. 

"Nah, Zynd and I have this pact. If we die, we won't be the first people we see in the next life." Cohen rubs his forehead and watches the infantry cadets across from us. 

"Why?" 

I shrug. "We've both got more important people to see. What's the point of wasting time with someone we see every day?" 

"That's so dark," Brisa replies, leaning over to swipe Tomas's shoulder. "I'd want to see you in the next life." 

Tomas blinks and frowns at her, then glances at his shoulder, which she poked. "I'm fine." 

"Then act like our squad leader and tell us what's going on," Brisa snaps, eyeing up the other squad. 

"It's the land navigation challenge," I offer, leaning my elbows on my bent knees. "Aura went missing for a bit and came back with grass and leaves in her hair. This must be the same thing." 

"The maps," Brisa whispers. 

I nod. "The maps." We've been training for this for weeks in class. "At least it's not interrogation." I turn to my bonded connection with Tân. "It's not interrogation, is it?"

"No, little one, it is not interrogation. And do not drink the water," Tân huffs. She sounds unimpressed and more than a little agitated. "It's a training exercise so I won't speak to you for a while, but I'm not risking you getting hurt. I promised I'd protect you."

"I love you."   

Not for the first time, or the last, I thank the gods Tân doesn't play by the rules of humans, or even pretend to go along with anything that might potentially put me in danger. As she's said more than once, this is her first time being bonded, just like it's mine. Better to apologise for making a mistake like this once than lose me.

"Drink," Professor Grady says, pointing to the skins beside us. Us - the five fourth wing second year cadets, and our newly formed five second wing second squad. There are ten sets of boots across from us as well. Infantry from the looks of their pristine uniforms and slicked hair.

I press my lips together when the skin reaches them, and don't allow any of the water to pass my lips. Cohen grimaces, so I follow suit, lowering the skin to the ground. Wiping my mouth with the heel of my palm, I look around properly. 

We're in a forest. I know that much. Which means we're in a forest with barely any other people, and Liam. Great. To dig even deeper, I'm stuck in a forest with the guy I said I'd have jumped if we'd been in shadows. 

Grady explains why we're here, that it's a land navigation exercise, and that we're to work with the infantry. There's even a scribe and a healer here, to document the process and well, heal us if needed. Sighing, I stay towards the back of the group as we set off. I just know it'll be a power show and I'm not in the mood to deal with maps being shared and all that politics.

"Sawyer," a freckle-faced fourth wing cadet with a kind smile says, holding out his hand. "You're Fenryn, right?" 

"Yeah." I take his hand and shake it, then drop my hand to my pack, to throw it over my back. "Don't fancy the arguments either?" I nod to the front where one of the infantry has already started arguing with Gamlyn and Matthias. 

Sawyer's eyebrows draw together. He places a hand over his heart. "Whatever do you mean? I'm at the back to protect our flank." 

I snort and smile.

"You can protect my flank any time of day," Cohen says, winking. 

"I'm right here," Brisa growls, walking slightly ahead to 'keep watch'. Brisa and Cohen haven't been a thing since first year, but her reaction mixed with Cohen's red cheeks tells me they might have rekindled their romance thanks to their close proximity in the dorms. I scrunch my nose. Not too fun for me since my dorm is between both of theirs. 

Liam walks ahead, side by side with Sorrengail. I bury the jealousy that bubbles and twists in my gut. Now's not the time to be jealous that Liam is always at Sorrengail's side. 

"Your dragon's a green, right?" Sawyer asks. 

I grin. "Yeah, she's great. Yours is a red, right?" I ask. 

"Silseag," Tân tells me. 

"Silseag?" I repeat.

Sawyer's eyes widen. "Yeah. How'd you know that?" 

"My dragon likes to prepare me for things," I admit. "And I remember you were unbonded in your first year. Mad respect for coming back and I have to say, your initial gauntlet run was phenomenal. Cohen, Gayl and I still talk about it. Sorry. Er, talked." Tears well in my eyes and a weight appears in my gut. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I work to quickly re-bury the overwhelming grief. Now's not the time to think about Gayl. 

Sawyer's brows lower over his eyes. A rosy hue tinges his cheeks under his smattering of brown freckles. "I didn't think anyone noticed."

"Fenryn notices a lot. Keeps it all up here." Cohen taps his temple. "I think it's easier for her to open up when your friend isn't laughing at her half the time." 

My head whips to the right. I hadn't realised Cohen even noticed Ridoc. "Says the guy who's already Gamlyn's best friend." 

The sides of Cohen's eyes crinkle. A smile widens his mouth. "All part of the plan, my dear."

"Plan?" Sawyer questions. 

"To get Fenryn laid. Step two is get someone to notice- ow." 

I'm not quick enough to slap Cohen before he mentions someone noticing me, but at least I shut him up before he can mention Liam. He walks ahead, grumbling about me and rubbing his head, and quickly strikes up a conversation about dragons with Gamlyn. 

"Ignore that," I say. 

Sawyer holds up his hands. A wry smile twists his mouth. "I'm just here to protect the flank." I sigh and nod. My eyes drift to Liam's back. "Liam's flank is quite nice too." 

I let out a garbled noise and raise, then lower my hand. "Count yourself lucky I'm not allowed to slap people I don't know." I can only hope he chose Liam as an example, and not because he's worked out who I like. 

Sawyer throws his head back to laugh. The sound is so infectious, I start to giggle and push his arm instead of slapping it.

"Shush, you," I laugh. 

A little while later, we walk slowly up a hill, keeping pace with Brisa whose footsteps have slowed to allow her to analyse the two maps, holding them side by side. Her brow is so low over her eyes, I'm sure if I ducked my head I'd be able to see her mind working as she searches the pages. 

"Gamlyn doesn't laugh at you, by the way," Sawyer says, adjusting his pack on his shoulder. "He's -" 

"They're two different maps," Brisa says, turning to us with wide eyes. "They're two different maps." She pushes forward into the main group. 

Sawyer and I share a look and speed up to try and catch more of Brisa's commentary. If they're two different maps, we might as well sit down and admit our loss, because I sure as shit haven't been memorising our route, and we've been walking for ages. 

Sawyer and I reach the top of the hill to find the group in front of us have stopped still, as if frozen. Their eyes seem fixed on something over the crest of the hill. 

Fuck. A tremor of fear wracks through me. A dragon. And by the looks of things, not a friendly one. 

I jog to the final steps to the group and stand between Tomas and Cohen. Yes. I was right. Not a friendly dragon, a fucking orange. Just as volatile as Varrish's one eyed dragon, Solas, and by the looks of things; just as angry. 

Forcing my eyes down, I grab hold of one of the infantry cadet's arms, hoping they won't feel my shaking hands or sweating palms. "Don't. Move." 

Sorrengail says something. There's a mini discussion, but I don't hear any of it. All I do is keep my eyes down and check my sides. The infantry, Cohen and Tomas are the ones I need to protect. I can't help those in front of us.  

"Gwen!" 

Footsteps thunder past. A runner. A fucking runner. Gods, let it be okay. My gaze flicks up, watching dragon whose eyes dart to the runner, tracking the cadet as it sucks in a breath. 

Beside me, Tomas moves, dodging out of our mini formation. I know what he's doing. He's saving the cadet called Gwen. Just like I mend people, Tomas saves people. But he'll be in the line of fire if he does this.

I loosen the straps on my pack and step in Tomas's wake. He grabs hold of Gwen and swings her to the ground next to the one Matthias has been arguing with.

I hear the crackle of flames growing from the dragon's throat. Flinging my bag in the direction of the literal fire as cover, I slam my shoulder into Tomas's hips.

Together, we tumble down, down, down the hill. The intense heat of dragon flames roars above us, turning the blue sky red and amber. 

Time stops, then speeds up. The flames stop. I can only hear the rush of blood in my ears and the thud of my heart beating out my chest as I pant.

An orange blur - the dragon this time, not fire - launches into the sky. 

"What is it about the orange ones?" Tomas wheezes underneath me. "So violent." 

"Oh gods. Tomas. Where does it hurt?" 

"You're on my chest." 

"Fuck, sorry," I say, moving off him. His back is bent over his pack, so I channel my magic into his body to check for any injuries before I let him move. I let out a breath as relief fills my chest. "You've broken your wrist." I pull back before I can be tempted to heal him. This way, he thinks I just checked him over. He won't know I'm still connected to Tân.

"You think?" He holds up a flopping hand.

The sight makes me snort. Tomas wipes his face and starts to complain about my spit getting on him while I help him to his feet. 

"You alright?" he asks. 

I vaguely notice the air against my back. It's accompanied by a twinge of pain. Just a twinge. "Fine." 

Tomas begins to chuckle. I start to do the same. 

Cohen's wailing shout above us dumps water over our mirth. It's followed by Matthias's angry voice. Tomas and I launch ourselves up the hill, scrambling over the dirt. Me pack-less, him without using his broken wrist. 

Finally, we stand at the crest, looking down at Cohen and Brisa, who are on their knees by the husk of my pack. Maribel is busy throwing up a few feet away. Sorrengail, Sawyer, Gamlyn and Liam stare at Matthias as she continues to berate the infantry. 

In the madness they seem not to have noticed we're alive. Tomas shrugs, inclining his head towards Cohen. He's right. I'm closer to Cohen than him. Only because of our little trio with Gayl, but in any case, this is my one to navigate.

I step forwards to pat Cohen's shoulder slowly. I nod at Tomas, who smiles. 

"It was a good pack," Tomas says, placing his uninjured hand on his chest.

"A great pack," I counter, forcing a frown to hide my smile. I can't get over the fact that we're alive. We're actually fucking alive. "Not too heavy, not too light. Have some respect."

"Apologies." Tomas deepens his voice and slows his speech. "It was a great pack. Not too light, not too heavy... All in all, pack, we commend you to Malek." 

I sniff and wipe away a fake tear. Cohen seems to have realised what's going on now. He slowly raises his eyes, takes in Tomas's alive form, then looks up at me. His lips curl into a snarl. 

"I'll be honest, I don't know what was in there," I say, backing away with my hands in the air. 

Cohen stands. "You fucking bitch! Next time you'd better be dead!" His hands meet my shoulders.

I'm not at all surprised by his reaction. I would have said similar in his position, and I'm sure I'll be yanked into a hug once he's got over his shock. 

Cursing, I fall back and begin to tumble back down the hill. Each bump makes my back ache, but I ignore it. Tân will let me channel the magic I need to heal before I even reach the bottom. When I finally stop rolling, I see Tomas standing above me on the hillside, laughing.

"Fuck off floppy," I shout, holding up a hand to give him my middle finger. 

"My wrist is floppy! My wrist!" Tomas shouts when laughter meets my words. "It broke when she shoved me over the hillside. Stop laughing, you arsehole!" 

For the first time, I laugh alongside Gamlyn. I laugh until my side aches, and then I look up and see something beautiful - Liam, grinning down at me, his hand extended. Sorrengail? Still at the top of the hill. 

"Let's get you up," he says.

Chapter Text

“You two argue like a married couple,” Sawyer laughs. 

Cohen sits straight and places a hand to his chest. “Thank you.”

“I don't think that's a compliment,” Brisa says, rolling her eyes. 

Gamlyn hums and addresses Cohen and me. “So are you two…?” 

“Why does everyone think that!?” I whine, throwing my hands in the air. “No!” 

At the same time, Cohen says, “No. Fen is hot and all, but I prefer my conquests more…” 

I hold up a finger to stop Cohen. “I feel like you're about to insult me,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

Cohen smirks. “No.” 

“Well, remember my room is next to yours. I know just how… pointed… your conquests are.” I lower my voice to a loud whisper and lean towards the fire. “Dis-a-ppointed.” 

Gamlyn, or Ridoc as he's asked me to call him, laughs. I wrinkle my nose when the sound takes me back to every time I've tried to speak to Liam and Ridoc’s laughed at me, and a pit forms in my stomach.

I stand up, stretching, and head over to where Gwen sits, slumped against the trunk of a tree.

“Did I say something wrong?” Ridoc asks behind me. 

“She thinks you laugh at her every time she opens her mouth,” Sawyer quips. 

I purse my lips. Cohen should never have mentioned it.

“Oh shit. I'm not laughing at her,” Ridoc replies.

Cohen makes a disgruntled noise. “That’s not how it comes across.” 

I tune out their argument. “You alright?” I ask Gwen, sinking down to sit on my heels. The infantry cadet looks just as shocked and upset as she did when we first started moving after the dragon attack earlier. Her squad have tried to rally around her, but she sits alone, staring into the fire like it’ll answer her unasked questions.

She looks up at me with shining green eyes. “I could have got two people killed today because I ran.” 

Sighing, I look above us, and begin counting the stars. “On Conscription Day, we lost half a Wing section because three people ran for it and someone's dragon got angry.” 

“Fuck,” she gasps.

“Yeah.” Giving her my whole attention, I sit down properly and wrap my arms around my knees. “We lose people all the time. Don't be angry at yourself for running. We see this every day so we're desensitised to it.” 

“How do you survive it?” She glances around, as if she’s not meant to ask such a ridiculous question. 

I force a smile onto my face. I can’t say what I want to: ‘We don’t.’ None of us are the same people who walked into Basgiath. We’ve all been changed in good, bad, or downright awful ways. 

“Lots of ways,” I say instead. “Everyone has their things that help.” I glance at Liam, who sits on the next log along. He smiles at me and I smile back. “Mairi over there carved me a little figurine of my dragon.” 

Gwen stares at Liam, and he tips an imaginary cap at her. 

I turn back to Gwen. “I sleep with it pointed at the door to protect me. It’s actually quite funny because sleep is probably the only time we’re safe from being murdered by other cadets.”

“They murder you?” Gwen gasps.

Shit. Wrong thing to say evidently. 

“You think?” Tân chuffs.

“Only in first year,” I laugh, trying to right my wrong. By the look on Gwen’s face, it’s too late for damage control. “It’s a whole thing in the codex about not killing people in their sleep. Dishonourable or something. I don’t know, I still haven’t read that section properly.” 

Gwen blinks at me. Her face turns green in light of the flames, and she turns and runs for the treeline, holding her stomach. . 

“Was it something I said?” I mutter, returning to my place between Brisa and Cohen. 

Brisa laughs, rolls her eyes at me, and hands me a piece of rabbit. My nose scrunches at the smell and I hand it over to Cohen, who shakes his head and hands it to Ridoc. 

“Aw thanks mate,” Ridoc says, grinning at Cohen. “I knew I liked you.”

Brisa and I share an amused look and shake our heads. 

A few minutes later, Brisa and Cohen head over to check on Tomas, who’s still arguing with the Healer over the correct way to reapply his bandage. 

Liam sits beside me. “I didn’t know you kept the carving.”

I give him a tight lipped smile. “What did you think I did with it?”

“Burnt it.”

What? My amusement falls away in an instant, replaced with a cold feeling I can’t quite place. Does he really think that of me? “Do I seem like the kind of person to burn things people have spent hours carving for me?”

“No,” he says quickly. “But you don’t seem like the kind of person who would use a wooden figurine as protection.” 

Unsure what to say, I interlace my fingers and draw my hands over my head to stretch. “You don’t know me well at all, do you?” I say, returning my hands to my lap. “That carving has joined the elite and very small ranks of things I own and cherish.”

“Thank you.” 

Smiling, I tilt my head and raise a brow. “For not destroying something you made?”

“For saving my life. And Deigh’s.” He looks up at the stars. “If I can’t say it here, where we’re the only ones listening, I don’t know where I can say it.”

“We’re not the only ones listening,” I say, nodding over at the scribe who’s quite literally documenting our every move out here. 

“She’s not in earshot,” Liam counters. “Still.” He leans in. “I know we haven’t had time to talk about what happened in Resson. But I’m glad Septon made sure you were counted as missing in the field. I don’t know what I would do if I thought Varrish was having you targeted.”

“Targeted?” I whisper, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Liam’s throat bobs. “Those of us who were at" - He lowers his voice - "Resson." He sighs. "Violet’s already had an assassination attempt—”

“Gayl and Nadine,” I interrupt. I have to swallow down the lump in my throat. The lid I’ve placed on my feelings begins to pry itself open and a wave of nausea spills over my stomach. Closing my eyes, I focus on pushing the feelings down again. 

“Yeah. And the rest of us are being picked at,” Liam continues, his voice returning to a normal level. “An attack here, an attack there. They’re trying to find our weak spots.” 

“Are you saying you think I’m a weak spot?” I ask. 

“No,” he chuckles. “I’m saying you could easily be mine.” He catches my eye and his knee presses against mine. 

“Because I saved your life?” I scoff, trying to ignore the way my heart beat faster when he said 'mine'. I shouldn't read into things. “Well, Varrish has already had me beaten because he saw me next to Bodhi. I’ve been avoiding Bodhi in public since, so hopefully I’ll be off Varrish’s hit list for a little while. But I’ll look out for any danger. Thank you for warning me.”

Liam opens and closes his mouth, then looks past me. I turn to see Ridoc shaking his head, and Sawyer biting his lip. 

“Are they okay?” I ask. They're not laughing, at least, but they're not talking either. I have the uncomfortable feeling they might be listening to what we're saying.

“Yeah,” Liam huffs, “they just have their work cut out for them.”

“With what?”

“Just something to do with me. Look, when we get back, we’ll be headed to the library. You should come too. I know there'll still be people around, but at least we’ll be able to talk there. Training’s too difficult with Sloane present.”

I nod and scrunch my nose. I can't confirm what I'll be doing when we get back, because I don't know when we'll leave this gods-forsaken wood. We've been walking for hours with no end in sight and the maps are unintelligible now that we've lost our starting position. “She’s doing well on the mat.”

Liam’s throat bobs again and he purses his lips. “‘Well’ isn’t good enough. They didn’t prepare her at all.”

“Who?”

“Her foster parents.”

“Oh. Maybe that’s why she’s been asking me for help,” I say, ducking my head. I’m keenly aware of the heat and pressure of Liam’s knee which is still pressed against mine, and achingly aware of his hands which are so close I could reach out and thread our fingers together if I could find the courage to be so bold. 

“You were fostered?” he asks. “After your parents died?”

I duck my head. “Er— no. No, but I know what it’s like to feel unprepared when you first come to Basgiath.” I look over at Sorrengail, who’s in deep conversation with Matthias — Rhiannon — as she’s told me to call her now. “I had some experience of fighting, but I wasn’t like you or Sorrengail. My first challenges on the mat were awful. When we started up after the gauntlet I had to work so hard to do well. I was in the training rooms every spare minute I had. I still am. It’s a constant battle.”

Liam hums. “Well, thank you for helping Sloane as well then. Seems like you’re going round saving all of us Mairis.”

“Why haven’t you been helping her?” I ask. “Last night, you and Bodhi were showing off. You weren’t showing her moves she can actually replicate.” 

“She’s been refusing my help," Liam says, cheeks reddening as he focuses on his hands. "She can be… stubborn.”

“Oh. Well, I think she’s a sweetheart.” I shrug. “And I have an ulterior motive in helping train her up.”

“Which is?”

“I kind of like her brother, and I prefer it when he’s smiling.”

Liam’s frown transforms into the smile I love - the smile which makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. My stomach begins to flop around at a magnificent speed and I beam back at him.

“Yes,” Ridoc hisses. 

I turn to look at him and he shakes his fist like he's ready to throw a dice. 

“What’re you playing?” I ask.

I try desperately to ignore the warmth rising to my chest and cheeks at the fact I’ve just told Liam I like him. I’m sure he won’t understand the entirety of my meaning, but gods, I feel so fucking tense. And my heart is racing so fast I feel like I’ve just stepped onto the mat against Halfsson again. And everything is tinged by an undercurrent of nausea. 

“Nothing. You wouldn’t know it,” Ridoc says quickly. 

Sawyer jumps to his feet and stretches. “Well, sleep for us I think.”

I blink rapidly. “Well, okay, sleep well.” I turn back to Liam, who’s frowning at his friend’s retreating backs.

"Sorry about them."

“It’s okay,” I say, forcing a half-smile. “I have this effect on people sometimes."

"Effect?"

"Where people just see me and walk in the opposite direction.” A different kind of warmth rises to my cheeks at a memory which forms. “I actually thought you hated me for a while.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, for a few weeks last year.”

“Why?”

I chuckle darkly and wring my hands together. “I smiled and waved in the corridor and you walked into a pillar to escape talking to me.”

Liam sucks in a breath and looks at me like I have something on my face. I wipe my mouth just in case, but can’t find anything. 

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Call it a fluke.”

I nod slowly, frowning over at Brisa, who waves at me, beckoning me to join her and Mirabel underneath a tree. 

“I was actually—”

“Sorry,” I interrupt, too embarrassed at his friends’ reaction to my question about their game, and my bringing up the memory of him and the pillar. “I should go. Brisa. Mirabel are calling me.” I point over to the two women. “Er, bye.”

“Oh. Bye.” 

“You looked like you needed an escape.” Mirabel asks when I slide in next to her. She hands me a corner of her blanket and I drape it over my knees and upper thighs. 

“It was awful. Absolutely awful,” I whisper. “Did Cohen tell you?” I ask, wondering who told them both I liked Liam. 

“Gayl,” Brisa says with a shrug. “I asked her for advice. I was a bit jealous of you and Cohen last year.” 

My eyes widen. “Please don’t be.”

Brisa laughs. “I know that now, don’t worry.”

“Cohen told me,” Mirabel says with a smile. 

“Traitor,” I whisper, glaring at my ‘friend’ with the loose lips. He balks and turns his back on me to face Tomas, who smiles at us across the fire and waves his bandaged wrist. Our Squad Leader has a gigantic smile on this face, so I suppose he’s given in to the idea of pain medication. I watch the Healer approach Sorrengail with a bowl of steaming stew.

“I still can't believe you took Dragonfire to the back and only got a small burn,” Brisa says, punching me in the shoulder. "You're turning into a legend." 

“Ow,” I grumble, rubbing the spot. "And don't say that," I chide, trying to hide my fear at my signet being found out, "I was just lucky."

I swallow and run a hand over my hair, which I've cajoled into a bun as usual. I also can't quite believe it. Not the lack of injury, but the lack of hurt. 

“It wasn't too bad,” Tân supplies. “If it had been worse I would have broken my no-contact and come straight to you.”

"Where are you?” I ask, trying to act as nonchalant as I can.

I'm achingly aware that I'm the only one still in contact with their dragon. If anyone knew, I would be in big trouble. Then again, I've thought about it for hours - if I had ignored Tân and drunk the water earlier, who knows where I'd be now. Instead of wearing Brisa's spare vest, I could have been screaming with a burnt back, or worse - dead from shock and pain. 

“I'm tracking the other group.” 

Fuck. I forgot there were more of us out here. “Please say you haven't burnt anyone.” 

“I haven't burnt anyone,” Tân says, in a rather dejected tone. 

Chuckling, I rest my forearms on my knees and focus on Mirabel's relaxed chatter. At some point, I know Grady will come to give us a dressing down. We managed to lose the very first RSC challenge - apparently the easiest one we'll be tasked with - and in such a spectacular fashion I'm sure we'll go down in Basgiath history as a ridiculous attempt.

But tonight? Tonight we're all sitting around a fire, chatting shit and for the first time in months, I feel like things are on the up.

Chapter Text

A few weeks after we failed the first RSC land navigation challenge, I sit with Ridoc at one end of a long library table. Sawyer and Rhiannon sit side by side getting through their physics, and Sorrengail pours over a book.

Liam, ever at Sorrengail's side, sits across from me. He's the one I'm here for. Flight manoeuvre training was this morning and Cohen went to lie down after he hurt his ankle, so for once I don't have a shadow with me, it's just me. 

Tân thinks I'm a fucking sucker for punishment - Liam hasn't spoken to me alone since that night around the bonfire - but at least I see him for the hours or minutes I catch him here. 

I did think I'd see him more during the weekends that Sorrengail isn't here as she's visiting Samara with her dragon, but Liam's always off with Bodhi and Imogen during those times. I only know because Tân flirted the information out of Deigh, then blocked him out again. 

Even so, I can't complain much. Between the few times I join Liam in the library, and the training sessions with Sloane, I'm spending more time with him than I ever have before. 

“I still don't think I know much about you,” Ridoc says, bumping my shoulder with his. Even he seems to have noticed something's up, and I'm appreciative of his questions which keep the conversation going when I inevitably get too caught up in my own head and stop speaking. 

I don't think Liam's noticed much. All he seems to do is look at Sorrengail or Ridoc, maybe Sawyer. I think I feel his eyes on me when I focus on my work, but whenever I look up, I'm disappointed to see his gaze elsewhere. 

I hum and look up from my history work. “What do you want to know?” 

“Your signet’s Mending?” Ridoc asks. 

Pursing my lips, I nod slowly. I can't tell what Ridoc knows of my signet. He's close to Liam and Sorrengail so they might have told him, but what if they haven't? 

“Professor Carr says you're terrible at it.” 

This makes me smile. They haven't told him. “Thanks," I say happily. 

Ridoc's brow furrows, but Liam smiles at me over the table. My stomach flutters and flops around as it always does when he gives me an ounce of recognition. At least he understands - it's better my reputation is at being terrible at my signet, rather than being a massive overachiever.

"Must I remind you, he is a man?" Tân asks. 

"What happened to 'mount him'?" I reply, pretending to turn to my work. 

"Once again, you do not need to speak to mount." 

I let out a small giggle, which draws attention back to me. I look around and give them a tight lipped smile. “What's your signet?” I ask Ridoc, in an effort to end the awkwardness. I've known for a while that most riders don't speak to their dragons as often as I speak to Tân. I'm not sure they'll understand if I say I'm getting life and romance advice from a four-legged winged creature. 

“Ice wielding,” Ridoc replies, puffing out his chest. 

“Nice," I say, my lips tilting up at one side. "They must love you at parties." I turn to Sawyer. "Yours?" I want him to know I'm listening, so I force myself to keep eye contact with him as he speaks, nodding encouragingly as he tells me about his Metallurgy skill. "That's pretty cool," I say when he's done.

Sawyer's cheeks darken and he ducks his head. “Do you know Liam's? Farsight. Pretty cool too, huh?” 

Turning my face to stone, I blink. I clench my jaw. I breathe through my nose. I cover my mouth. None of it works. The snort builds behind my nose, tickling until I can't stand it anymore. I sink down in my library chair and cover my whole face with my hands to try and hide but it doesn't work. My shoulders shake. 

Ridoc's mouth falls open. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head. A bubble of laughter builds in my stomach. I can't do anything but stare at my book. It takes me ten seconds or so, but I regain my composure. 

By this time, everyone's staring at me. Liam with an open mouth, Sorrengail and Rhiannon with frowns, and Ridoc and Sawyer with amusement dancing in their eyes. Ignoring them, I begin to write. 

“Did she just…” Ridoc asks no one in particular. He leans in and whispers, “Farsight.”

I can't stop the snort, or the laugh, and bury my head in my arms on the table. “It's very useful in battle,” I manage between laughs. 

Ridoc chuckles. “And it's great if you lose things down the side of the armchair.” 

I try to shush him, but it turns into another shaking attack of giggles and Ridoc joins me this time. 

“I'm so sorry,” I whisper to Liam, biting my lips together when I've finally controlled myself. 

Liam's grin tells me I might just be off the hook. “No, it's fine. Day to day it's pretty shit. What am I meant to use it for? Checking on ants?”

I've never been kicked out of the library before, but there's a first for everything. Gathering my things with a swipe of my hand and a flare of magic, I run from the librarian who doesn't look at all impressed at my roar of laughter. 

Three corridors from the library, I'm walking along, considering going back when Liam catches up with me. I think he's going to tell me off, but he grabs me round the waist and spins me round. 

I swallow thickly and look up at him, finally meeting his blue gaze. “Liam,” I whisper. We're alone. We're actually alone. Gods. 

“Fenryn.” His low voice sends a shiver through me, leaving me throbbing and aching to lean closer. 

“Yes,” Tân’s low timbre fills my mind, elongating the word. “Mount him.” 

I close my eyes and scrunch my nose. Now is probably the worst time to remember I have a dragon in my mind. I can't think of anything worse than being about to finally kiss the guy you've liked for over a year, and someone in your mind being creepy. 

“Did I forget something?” I whisper, looking up at him through my eyelashes. 

“No." His face is serious, but he huffs a laugh. "I can honestly say no one's laughed at my signet before.” 

I bite my lip and smile, turning my attention to his vest. “Maybe not to your face.” 

When I look up again, Liam's smile is broad. “It was funny. It is funny. I just-” He glances over his shoulder. “I know we didn't get a chance to talk properly, and I should get back, I just wanted to say I enjoy having you there. And I know you don't trust me right now, all things considered, but you will, I really think you will. Okay?” 

What? I blink, then frown and bite my lip. No, not okay. What does that mean? Why is he so cryptic? 

I stop thinking when I notice his gaze is fixed on my mouth. He leans in ever so slightly and my body reacts before my mind. I lean in as well, tilting my chin up. Liam's nose brushes mine. 

His gaze searches mine. His breath whispers over my lips. Then he… retreats? 

Yep. 

He fucking retreats, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets as he does what I can only describe as studying me. Six steps in, he turns and walks the other way. 

The sexiness of the moment would be greater if I couldn't see fucking Ridoc holding one thumb up from the other side of the corridor. Why these tall guys think they can just hide round corners, I have no idea.

I return to my room to satiate myself and wonder how the fuck I'm going to get through the next year of Basgiath if a nose rub can make as feral as when Tân's in heat. 

Two days later, during a training session with the marked ones and Sorrengail, Liam asks for my opinion on a move Sloane's finding particularly difficult to master. My stomach flops at the thought of finally being able to spar him again - to get close to him physically. 

Altogether I would say it's not much - this tiny iota of physical touch - but it's progress, so I'll take it. Especially after the feeling of being in his arms, and his nose brushing against mine. 

Only, a few minutes into training Liam has to leave as Sorrengail wants to visit her friend in the Archives. She says it's ok, she'll go alone, but Liam says he promised Xaden, and he leaves with her. I can't pretend I'm not hurt and annoyed, so I just walk over to the wall and start using a few weights instead, so I'm not there when he says bye. 

Sloane calls me over after ten minutes, and Liam is replaced with Bodhi, who is a lot tougher on me than Liam. I do appreciate and welcome his challenge, but I'm disappointed. 

Still, I complete the move I'm meant to show Sloane a few times and she attempts it twice. When she fails the third attempt, I help correct her posture and adapt the move to accommodate our height difference. Then, Bodhi suggests we have a little spar. Nothing too strenuous, just fun. 

And it is — it is surprisingly fun. I spend most of the time smiling and laughing, to the point I worry Sloane might think this is how sparring is meant to be. 

"But what do I do after that?" Sloane asks when I take Bodhi to the floor, a deep-set frown wrinkling her unblemished forehead. 

Laughing, I stand and shrug. "Well, it's not like he's going to-"

Famous last words. 

Bodhi grabs my ankles, pulling them out from under me. I slam into the ground and twist as much as I'm able, but he grabs me behind the knees and pulls me along the mat until my thighs are either side of his. 

"Sorry, you were saying?" he asks, pinning my hips down under his. He holds my hands next to my head and leans down with a confusingly attractive smirk. 

I swallow thickly. The whole move, in fact, was confusingly attractive. Wriggling my body, I try to find any kind of purchase or buck, but can't. Warmth spreads to my chest and lower, where I rub against him. He lets out a short breath through his nose. 

“Use this,” Tân says, reminding me I'm sparring. Her voice sounds far away, like she's on the edge of my mind. She must be going for another fly. Without me. Gods I wish I'd not decided to stay inside today and help Liam. 

“‘This?’” 

Tân’s laugh fills my mind. “You cannot be so clueless. Add him to-” 

“Say I should mount him and I will sever our connection.” 

“Use this.” 

I catch Bodhi's eye and counter with my own smirk. 

Bodhi frowns. "You can't get out of this." 

"Can't I?" I whisper. 

He leans slightly closer. "No." 

"You sure?" 

"Yes." 

"Positive?" I whisper, biting my bottom lip. 

His gaze moves to my mouth and I finally make my move. I headbutt him straight in the nose. Cursing, he releases one of my hands and instinctively moves it to his face. Grabbing a fist of his curls, I force him to the side and roll him so I'm straddling his hips, then jab him in the eyes with two fingers.

Groaning out a string of curses, he covers his face with one hand and taps the mat twice. 

"See," I say, grinning at Sloane. I can't help my little bounce. Bodhi groans again. “Sorry.”

“Did you use two fingers or three for the eyes?” Sloane asks, frowning down at me. 

“Just jab, think later,” I reply.

Everyone in the training room knows my signet, so I lean forwards and press my hands to Bodhi's stomach and heal him through his vest. I wince as I take on his injuries — the sharp, eye watering pain wipes the smile from my face. I didn't think it would hurt as much as it did. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“S’fine,” Bodhi says, pulling my hand down from my face. “Good move.” 

“Thanks,” I say, wincing when my nose snaps back into place. 

“How did you know it would work?” 

“You’re a man,” I say with a shrug. 

Bodhi frowns. “You think that low of me?” 

I shake my head and give him what I hope is an encouraging smile. “I wouldn't have done it if I didn't feel safe.” 

Standing with Bodhi, I stretch my arms out and sniff, wriggling my nose to get rid of the ache there. It takes a little longer to heal than usual, and the pain is worse as well. Which means Tân is far away.

"Where are you?" I ask Tân. 

Brisa appears at my shoulder. “I leave for two minutes and you get hurt,” she says, grabbing hold of my chin to assess the damage. “Never send me for snacks again.” She glares at Bodhi and takes my elbow. “Section Lead or not, you're not in my chain of command so I can call you a fucking prick to your face. This is training, not challenges.”  

“Oh, no,” I try, but Brisa hauls me off before I can defend Bodhi. 

Laughing, I wave at Bodhi and Sloane as we leave the training rooms. I can't exactly explain to anyone that my nosebleed is technically self-inflicted. 

“We've been training together for over a year,” Brisa reminds me as we walk down the corridor, “and I've never seen you bleed this much.” 

“It's fine,” I say, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “Barely hurts anymore.” 

“Just because you have a hard head doesn't mean he's allowed to fight you like that.” 

“Brisa, it's ok.”

“No it's not. You didn't have to see you getting beaten by Halfsson,” Brisa snaps, stopping in front of me. Her eyes soften. “Sorry, but you didn't.” 

I don't know whether to hug her or pat her on the top of her shaved head. 

“Don't even think about it,” she says, raising a finger when I lift my hand. Shaking her head, she laughs. “Come on. Tomas is looking for us.” 

Turning the corner, I thump into a strong chest. I look up and see green eyes, blonde hair and a jaw that rivals Liam's. The cocked eyebrow and smirk aren't like Liam though, and the absolute confidence rolls off this one in waves. It makes me want to crawl into a ball and roll away from him. 

I study his jacket. One star on his shoulder. A first year. Good. I can challenge him then. 

I cross my arms and straighten my spine. “Cadet…?” 

“Graycastle,” he says with a smirk. 

“Wing?”

“Fourth.”

“Of fucking course.” Maybe I can't challenge him. Not since he's in Liam's wing. “Well, watch where you're going next time.” 

“Why?” he asks. “Will I get a reprimand?"

Well, yeah, of course you will, because I'll tell Tomas who will speak to Rhiannon Matthias, who will (hopefully) tell you to leave me alone or you'll be on floor scrubbing duty for a week. “Yes.” 

“Is that a promise?” His gaze flicks from my feet to my nose, then my face.

Brisa retches and rolls her eyes. 

“I'm a second year.” I adjust my arms and stand my ground.

“I can see,” he replies. “I'm looking for Sorrengail.” 

“You and everyone else,” I mutter, still annoyed that Liam left me to train with his sister while he went off with Sorrengail. "Excuse me,” I mutter, slipping around him. 

I'm not sure what I did since the other day, but the Liam who rubbed his nose against mine seems to have been replaced by the old Liam. 

“Are you ever nice to anyone?” Brisa asks. 

“I'm nice to you. And Liam. And Cohen. And Mirabel. And-”

Brisa's laugh cuts through my list.

“I am!” I complain. 

We meet Tomas (and the ten first years we've somehow managed to not kill) in the courtyard. They're all panting while Tomas looks fine so I can only assume he's sent them on a run and they've just returned. Since he almost got taken out by the orange dragon, he's been into  runs.  

"Do you think that time was acceptable?" Tomas roars. 

"Fuck no!" the cadets shout. 

Chuckling, Brisa and I walk to Tomas's side, joining Mirabel. Tomas glares at me.

"I hate this whole fuck no business," he says. 

I shrug. "Not my fault." 

"It is actually completely your fault," he retorts. 

I wave to our cadets, who wave back at me. "What do you need?" I ask Tomas, raising a brow. 

Cohen runs over to our side, out of breath and red-faced. "What's up?"

"Dismissed," Tomas calls to the cadets, who walk off in different directions. Despite me telling them to be friends, not all of them have made the leap yet. I'm sure they will at, during or after gauntlet training. 

"Right, they're not going in order so we're up first and have to head down now," Tomas says, motioning for us to walk with him. 

"Up first?" Mirabel asks, her brow lowering over her eyes. 

I shrug at Cohen, who grumbles about not being able to finish his muscle soak.

"Interrogation training," Tomas says. 

I stop still and stare. Brisa walks into my back, pushing me on. 

"Tân?" I whisper through our bond, calling for her. "Tân, are you there?" 

She doesn't answer. I place a hand to my chest. She must be flying far away if she's not answering. Why isn't she here!? I swear to the gods if she's off on a 'quick' run to see Chradh and I can't heal because of it... 

"Hurry up," Tomas calls to me, "they're waiting." 

Chapter Text

Tomas did us a favour by warning us they'd be taking us to interrogation training. I have no idea how he knew ahead of time, but those spare seconds meant we weren't surprised when Grady and his henchmen popped up and bound the lot of us. And Cohen had enough time to ditch the churmem hidden in his boot. Absolutely ridiculous.

Cohen's only defence is a shrug when I glare at him then look pointedly at the loose slab of rock he decided to hide his churmem under. He shouldn't be smoking that stuff at all, let alone here. 

We're led downstairs, hands bound behind our backs, in a single file line. Tomas told them we wouldn't fight, so they let us at least walk like this, and didn't haul us all away. 

I narrow my eyes at the back of Cohen's head. "Is that a bald patch?" I ask as we walk down a set of steep stairs. 

"You fuck off right now," Cohen snaps, trying unsuccessfully to change his parting using just his shoulder. 

Brisa snorts behind me. "I've been telling him." 

The grin slides from my face as we arrive at the training facility. None of us have been here before, so I have no idea what to expect. Somehow, it's worse than I imagined - it's a windowless cave.

Grady says something as I pass. 

A cold chill seeps into my bones. If there's one thing I fear in the world, it's not being able to see the sky. When I die, I want to look up and see blue... stars... the moon... Something outside. Something natural. Not a cold, dank cave. 

Not that I think I'll die here, but I've always feared that. Ever since my parents- no. I can't dwell on that. I force myself to focus on the present. 

"Don't carry many weapons, do you?" one of Grady's helpers asks me, unsheathing my two daggers.

"I was in the training room earlier," I explain, "didn't think I'd need the extras." Why the fuck didn't I think I'd need extras?

Once we're all defenceless, we're led to a chamber with a steel bolted door. Professor Grady tells us we've been given information to protect, but I wrack my mind and can't figure out what the passage he gave me is, or when he told me it. 

Fuck. 

Cohen, who's obstructing my view, moves to the side and my stomach drops further. There are seven chairs, five mattress-less beds, and one other door. I swallow thickly, wondering if I'm the only one who didn't have time to piss before this. 

"Sit," Grady says. 

I sink into the nearest chair with a view of both doors and watch as Brisa, Mirabel, Cohen and Tomas take their seats. 

"Are we in a classroom setting?" Mirabel asks, rubbing her wrists when Grady snips the ties binding her hands behind her back. 

Grady nods. "Which means?" He begins to cut Tomas's ties. 

"It's an assessment," Mirabel replies. 

"Correct. You will be here for a few days, and we will assess how you react to a capture scenario," Grady says. He purses his lips. "This will not be fun. For anyone. We will not show you mercy. We will not react to your pleas. However" - the door opens and two riders arrive with what looks like snacks - "if you succeed in an escape, there's a patch available." 

Grady clips my bonds and I run my fingers over my wrists and sigh. I still can't hear Tân, so the red marks will have to stay for now. 

"Eat. Drink," Grady says with a smile. "Before the scenario begins, you must all share a secret which we will try to pry from you, along with the phrase you were given." 

Fuckity fuck fuck. I still can't remember the phrase. I can only hope I'm not the one who wants to break, because I literally won't be able to give them what they want. 

Grady says something else but once again, I'm not listening. Ah shit, I think, as the door slams behind him. 

Cohen stands and checks the door Grady left from. Mirabel checks the other and finds it's a rudimentary toilet which I use immediately.

By the time I'm done in there, the rest of the squad are tucking into the snacks provided. Brisa hands me a mug of what she says is juice. I sit in my chair again and bring it to my lips. I hesitate, recognising the smell as the water Tân told me not to drink during the land navigation challenge. I open my mouth to tell the others not to drink, but Cohen's already going for a second mug, and the others are polishing theirs off. 

I swallow down the lump in my throat. I reckon I only have a few seconds left to decide what I want to do; stay in touch with Tân, or go it alone. 

"What's wrong?" Mirabel asks me, frowning at my mug, which hovers at my lips. 

"Nothing, just thinking," I reply, pressing the metal lip to mine. Cohen reaches over and pokes me in the side. It knocks my hand and... well, my decision is made for me. I place the mug on the table and close my eyes as my connection to Tân is severed. 

"Oh shit," Mirabel says, picking up her mug again. "I can't hear..." 

"Fuck. Éist's not answering," Cohen mutters.

Tomas groans. "Well, looks like we're alone. No dragons again. Secrets. Come on, give them up." 

"What's yours?" I ask him, trying to think of a good one for myself. 

He shrugs. "That scar on my back everyone always asks about? I fell out of a tree when I was six." 

"How many cadets have you bedded by saying it was a near miss with a gryphon?" Mirabel asks. From the way he cheeks turn a rosy hue, I can only assume she's one of his list.  

Cohen places his hand on his chest. "I have a-"

"Churmem addiction, yeah, we all know," we all chant at the same time. 

"Fuck me. I was going to say I have a new tattoo on my hip," Cohen says. "And I've only smoked a few times. Not that much at all."

"Gayl got him into it," Mirabel says, rolling her eyes. "After the party at the end of first year." 

"That's why she was always sick?" I ask, narrowing my gaze at Cohen, who sinks a little in his seat. 

"Cohen's stopping," Brisa says. 

My gaze narrows further at Cohen. Brisa must not know about the secret supply of the drug he had hidden his boot. I make a mental note to retrieve and dispose of the packet. 

"Right. So I've got the scar. Cohen's got the tattoo. Brisa?" Tomas asks. 

"I'm allergic to pomegranate. I could die if someone served it to me," she says, gaze darting between us, daring any of us to use it against her. Of course we won't. 

"Oh shit," I whisper. "No pomegranates," I say, nodding. "Mine? Well... er, I wasn't listening when Grady told us the secret passages to protect, so-" 

"Oi. No. Actual secret about yourself," Cohen says, taking more juice. 

"Shit. Er... Mirabel?" I ask. 

Mirabel looks around nervously. Her face turns beet red. "You know last year, when the first year cadet, Grayson, went around accusing everyone of stealing his secret stash of hair products and Jack Barlowe got so angry he snapped his neck on the mat? Er... I stole his hair products." 

"Fucking Malek, Mir," Brisa says. 

"No idea how I'll follow that little fucking morbid tidbit," I say. "Er... okay. Once after training last year, Aura and I... We made out." 

"What?" Brisa asks, sitting forwards in her chair. Tomas echoes the movement, as does Mirabel. "Like, Wingleader Aura?" 

I nod. 

"Knew it," Cohen says, smiling. 

"It was just a kiss," I say, holding up my hands, "but it happened. We're just friends, it was a heat of the moment thing, but yeah." 

From their reaction, I definitely won't be telling them about making out with our old Wingleader, Septon. Something about training and the praise kind of got to me. Kissing Septon and Aura was also during a hard period for me where Tân was in heat a lot since Chradh was still around. I hadn't mastered blocking her out yet.

I don't think of the kisses as meaning anything, but I know some people might get the wrong idea. Especially at Basgiath. I've already had a bucketload of issues from Cohen kissing me as a friend and people thinking we're together. I do not want to add to that. 

Grady returns and takes us to another, darker chamber. This one, somehow, is less welcoming than the first, with chains and a floor drain. This time, Grady chains the others to the wall, and leaves me in a chair, hands and legs bound.

I wriggle, but can't move. 

Fuck.

Grady says something about him not torturing us himself, and leaves. The door behind me opens, and two riders walk in. I haven't seen them before, but I'm a cadet. I'm not used to seeing actual riders. 

Fifteen minutes later, the two riders leave and I spit out a mixture of blood and saliva. "Why me?" I groan, looking at the others, who are in not as bad a state as I am, but are a little more able. "Why am I in this fucking chair?" 

"You saved me," Tomas says. "It was in that report from the last challenge. Everyone knows you're friends with Cohen. You saved Mirabel last year when she broke her leg. You mended it just before War Games. And everyone knows Brisa and you get along well." 

"Do we?" I groan, frowning when there's a smattering of laughter behind me. 

"I love you too," Brisa sighs.

"Huh. Did you know Brisa actually really liked me?" I ask Tân. Silence meets my mental words and I sigh. I forgot she was gone. Fuck. 

The interrogators walk back in just a few minutes later and begin again. 

This cycle continues for hours. Or days. I have no idea. They take me to the wall and chain me there, then put Tomas in the chair. He takes less time in the chair than I did. Significantly less. Then it's Brisa's turn. Then Mirabel's. Then Cohen's. Then back to me. 

They must decide they're getting somewhere with me, because they pause the rotation and lay into me for a while. For so long, in fact, that I think I might just die here, in the windowless room. 

It's while Brisa's getting chained to the chair again that it happens - Tomas breaks. "There's a map," he wheezes, grabbing the attention of the two interrogators, "hidden in the table in the other room." 

The two riders look at each other. I don't know if I'll ever forget the laughter of the male rider which reverberates around the room. It's cutting and grating and horrifyingly it's genuinely humour filled. 

My gaze snaps to Tomas, who hangs his head. His dark curls are plastered to his brow. One of his eyes is so swollen he can barely open it. The other has blood and sweat trickling into it. He looks awful. But then, we all do - he looks no worse off than me, and I reckon I have another few rounds of this left before I'll consider breaking. Tomas could keep going for even longer than that, I'd wager. 

"Mirabel can't take any more," Tomas mutters as we're all hauled to our feet. 

I gape. I passed out for gods know how long and Tomas said nothing. They worked on me even when I was unconscious. But Mirabel? She's still conscious, her eyes darting between us and the interrogators who are letting Brisa out of the chair. 

"You're my squad. No one's got that patch in ten years. I have to know where to draw the line," Tomas splutters. 

He looks me in the eye, and that's when I realise - he's not saving us because he thinks Mirabel can't take it, he's saving us because he thinks she'll break. He'll always know he chose to save us to protect her. But if Mirabel broke, she'd never forgive herself. 

"Mend us when we're out, yeah?" Cohen groans, slumping against the wall when he's hauled to his feet. 

I shake my head. No part of me wants to relive this experience, let alone take on all of their injuries in a short span. "I can't. I'm not good enough yet."

"Healers Quadrant then," he replies. 

"You held on longer than most," Grady says when we're marched out, into the too-bright light. 

"What day is it?" I ask, blinking. I realise then, it's not day time, the sun isn't too high in the sky, we're just not used to any kind of light apart from the scant mage lights in the cave. 

Grady hands us all pre filled mugs of juice laced with the potion to give us back our bonds with our dragons. We down them instantly, but I think something must have gone wrong with mine as I can't hear Tân, until I realise she's just still not there. 

"Saturday evening," Grady says. "You lasted just over a day." 

Chapter Text

The Healers Quadrant is a bust. For me.

Nolon looks like he's lost a bit of weight since I last saw him at the start of the year. His skin is sallow and he seems... Preoccupied. He keeps looking over at the room at the end of the ward, while he goes through each of us, assessing our injuries and triaging who he thinks are the worst.

I'm used to hiding my pain now, so I don't cry out like Mirabel or wince like Tomas, which ends up to my detriment. Once Nolon's decided who's in the most pain - Mirabel - we're given an order to sit in.

All to say, it takes him a while to mend the group, much longer than it usually would. And what kind of a Mender would I be if I asked to go first? I must be too nonchalant about the aches and stinging pain I'm racked with, because Nolon pauses when he gets to me so he can get something to eat.

By the time he returns, I'm clenching my teeth. He asks where hurts the most so I tell him, and he starts mending my knee. He's just finishing that when a cadet walks out of a room at the back of the ward and beckons him inside.

"Come back in the morning," Nolon calls back to me, walking over to the room. 

I'm shocked, but say nothing to the others on the trek back to our dorms. They all walk straight to the common room for a debrief. I go straight to my room, lock my door, and refuse to come out, not even when Brisa says they've scrounged some dinner for us all.

Cohen must tell Tomas his decision to take one for the team and give up the secret makes it look like he chose to protect Mirabel over the rest of us, because door knocks keep me awake for hours. Tomas thinks he owes me a Life Debt because I saved his life during the land navigation challenge, so he must be extra panicky that he's messed up with me. 

When Tomas finally stops knocking, Cohen starts on his round of knocks and chats. He asks if I'm still alive, and says that Tomas was just trying to explain. After a while his knocks become more insistent. 

When he curses and gives up, Brisa and Mirabel start, asking if they can sleep in with me to make sure I don't die in the night.

When I ignore them, they start the rotation again; Tomas, Cohen, Brisa and Mirabel.

I doze in between knocks. Not hearing Tân’s voice in my head is almost blissful. There's no one to tell me to answer the door, or to force me up to meet Tomas outside. Or to tell me to stop wallowing. 

And I don't want to stop wallowing. 

I knew someone would break. I knew it. We all did. I guess I didn't realise I would be the one who wouldn't get mended, even though I spent the most time in the chair.

And why me? Brisa and I train and study together, but she's Cohen's girlfriend. Mirabel and I spend evenings together but I was always closer to Gayl. Tomas? We don't speak that much apart from him barking orders. So why was I the punching bag? Tomas's stupid words in the interrogation chamber about who I've saved or helped over the years make no sense by the early hours - it's all just clouded by anger.

Saturday blurs into Sunday. 

Tân returns with the dawn's light. Wherever she's been took her away for some thirty-two hours.

"Little one, how was your weekend?" she chuffs. She sounds close, which means she might have arrived while I was sleeping. 

I don't reply at first, twisting her question back at her. "How was yours? Where were you?"

"With Chradh," she says, her voice tight. 

I almost don't have the heart to tell her what she missed. Almost. I'm miffed, so I replay the entire interrogation to her, skipping over the easier parts and really laying it on thick with the beatings. My words are interrupted by snapping teeth, my name, and promises to find Grady and kill him.

"It's not your fault," I tell her, fully aware that she could eat me or set me on fire if she thought I was being insubordinate, "they gave us the water-laced drink again. You couldn't have known."

Though, since she's in my head, I'm sure she can see and sense my anger and the black mark I've placed against her name. 

"Fenryn. I did not know."

"I need time," I say. 

Placing my mental blocks up, I refuse to speak to her, even ignoring her roars outside my window. It does make me smile when I see her fly past my window twice before I go to sleep again.

Sunday blurs into the early hours of Monday morning. 

I stare out my window, watching Tân fly in the distance as the sun begins to rise. 

Today, I can't wallow anymore. I have to be strong. 

Rolling onto my back, I begin to dismantle my mental walls, bringing them down sand block by sand block. Most people use bricks to build their walls, but my family left Aretia when I was four, I was used to the Luceras coastline by eight. Memories of the bitter cold and stacking sand blocks shaped me.

Tân becomes of reach in my mind. My stomach lurches at the idea of facing her anger at my keeping her shut out. But my belly has been empty since the biscuit I ate on Friday and I can feel it now. I have no strength to keep her out much longer. 

My body shakes as Tân's magic flows into my signet. I'm not stealing this from her, she's forcing the magic into me. I want to fight it, but I can't. My body begins to heal the worst of my injuries. Hopefully Nolon won't notice they're gone.

“Tell me if you need more time, little one,” Tân says, voice frantic. "I was only gone for a day. A day." 

“I need more time," I answer. Tân's been gone for longer before, but I've never been interrogated during the time she's been away. "It's not your fault. It was just bad timing."

"Meet me at our place this evening." 

"I promise. Midnight."

"Midnight," she agrees. 

I can feel Tân move away from me then, as if stepping back to sit at the very edge of my mind; she's there, but barely. Her anguish moves away with her, taking some of mine with it. It means I can finally breathe and stop wallowing. 

It's still too early for even the first years to be up and about, so I head to the bathing rooms and scrub myself clean, wincing as my sponge travels over thick bruises. Then I head to the Healers Quadrant to get patched up. 

Nolon tuts when he sees me. “You should have been here yesterday morning.” 

I shrug and wince as he begins healing my arm. There's not much I can say to that. He told me to come back in the morning. “Didn't feel like it.” 

“Did you break?” Nolon asks, turning my arm to look at my elbow. “It's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone does.” 

I shake my head. “Not me, no.” 

“Good. This is why these tests are in place,” Nolon says, beginning work on my hand. “To remind you of your fallibility. You spend your time at Basgiath learning how to be the strongest physically. You must learn how to strengthen your mind as well. You are a Mender. The likelihood of you being taken are slim, but never none.”

As I leave the Quadrant, hoping I'm in time for breakfast, the bell for formation goes. My belly protests the sound. Without a friend or cadet I know working in the kitchens, I'll have to distract myself until lunch.  

“Formation then,” I whisper, allowing my legs to carry me down the right corridors. 

“Where have you been?” Cohen hisses at me from one side. "You weren't in your room for breakfast." 

"Had to get mended," I say, turning my arm to show its full function. 

"You should have let me come with you," Cohen mutters, slipping his hand into mine. 

I squeeze his fingers, then draw away, clasping my hands behind my back in a strong pose. I can't show weakness. 

“We were worried,” Brisa says from my other side. She does sound worried. Her brow is furrowed as well. 

“Never do that again,” Tomas hisses from beside Brisa. 

And I'm so mad at Tomas, I can only think; fuck you. I can't say that out loud, so I just glare at him until he looks away. 

Staring ahead, I focus on the back of a first year cadet’s head. Jacek. Ugh. The worst cadet to stand behind because he reminds me of Plath, and I'm not mentally strong enough right now to deal with the idea of my sister and her death. Poor Jacek. His brother died and he has to stand here and listen to the death scrolls still just like the rest of us. And mat challenges are still on, which means names are on the scroll in abundance. 

Fuck. Gauntlet training will start in the next week or so and I'm not looking forward to those deaths. 

My hands swing at my sides and I look down, stretching my fingers before curling them into fists. Tingles rush from my palms to my elbows when I close them into fists, then leave when I relax them. I'm definitely weak. 

I ignore Cohen and Brisa's looks from either side of me and when we're dismissed I make sure I'm the first to leave, slipping away in the mass of first years. 

Battle Brief is… boring. Sorrengail does her whole teacher's pet routine and I stare up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would take me to climb up there, and once I've worked that out, I think about what I would do when I was up there. It's something I do to calm myself down, and right now I need to be calm. 

The only annoying thing is the fact my mind won't stop me from taking in everything that's being said, so when Devera says, “Cadet Zynd. Since we're taking up much of your ceiling watching time, would you be happy to answer the question,” I know what she's asked.

Sitting up in my chair, I lean my forearms on the desk and address Devera. “Well, Ulysses could have utilised Falgard’s nine point defensive position, so I'm guessing from the fact they went with a straight attack they were surrounded. Which is unlikely considering the nature of that ravine, so I'm guessing we've not been told about the weather conditions for a reason. It's only August, but the north can get quite cold so I'm guessing they were trapped by an unanticipated snowstorm, which can wreak havoc with a rider's vision let alone a dragon's, whether they tell us they're infallible or not.”

“And why would it be unanticipated?” Devera asks. "If, as you're saying, these things aren't uncommon in the north." 

I shrug and shake my head. “I don't know."

Hisses of breath from the first years almost make me roll my eyes. No one says 'I don't know' to Devera. But if they'd give me two seconds, I could continue.

"Number of reasons," I say, making Devera raise an eyebrow. "They were in a ravine. The storm could have been visible from high points and swept overhead. Could have been caused by a wind from the sea they weren't expecting since we have shit all communication routes with the isles.” I curl my lip. “Could have been watering their dragons and got distracted.” 

“Good. You've surmised the events well," Devera nods. "The missing information for you all is as follows; they were taking their dragons to water in the ravine. The chill swept in from the northern isles and dipped into the ravine before they could do anything about it. They were surrounded.” 

“What is going on with you?” Aura hisses from behind me. "Stop staring at the ceiling and act like the second year cadet you are." 

I roll my eyes and sink into my seat. It's like everyone in leadership decided to hiss at me today. 

“We failed interrogation,” Mirabel replies for me. 

“I didn't,” I mutter. 

Aura hums and squeezes my shoulder. I ignore Brisa's side eye. Aura and I really were just a one kiss thing. 

The bell rings. “Well, that's lunch,” I declare. 

“Fenryn!” Cohen complains as I step over his lap and run to the stairs. "Just go round!" 

A hand closes around my elbow but I wrench my half-mended arm free and jog to the dining hall. I choose a mountain of turkey and sausages and vegetables, and three oranges, and sit down with a group of second year cadets I don't know. 

My hope that this will keep me safe from questions about my weekend dies the moment the people around me splutter and choke on their food, then stand and walk away. 

Great. There's only one person I know who could make them react like that. 

“Why are you avoiding everyone?” Bodhi growls sitting down. At least it's not a hiss. “Is it because of the mat on Friday? Because I'll go easier on you next time if it is. Ryn.” He lets out a slow exhale, then leans in, until his breath whispers against my cheek. “If you don't answer me, I will make you.” 

“How?” I turn to look him straight in the eye. “Because first, you're not my chain of command. And second, they beat me for hours and I didn't tell them anything.”

Cursing, he closes his eyes and rubs his brow. “You had interrogation this weekend?” 

“Fenryn?” Liam asks from my other side. 

I can't look at him. I turn back to my plate. I can't look at either of them. 

“Interrogation,” Bodhi says in a loud whisper. 

“Fuck. Fenryn.” Liam pushes his plate away and leans in, placing his strong forearms in my space. “That's where you've been?"

"Why? Were you looking for me?" I ask.

"Yes."

What!? For fucks sake. The one time Liam's actually looking for me and I'm being interrogated!? How did this situation get worse? Stupid Grady. Sulking, I place my chin on my palm and rest my elbow on the table. 

"Are you alright?” Liam asks. "Physically, I mean." 

“Yeah, Liam,” I say, stabbing a piece of sausage. “I'm fine. Always am.” 

“Try saying that without clenched teeth,” Bodhi mutters. 

I do. I repeat the words without clenched teeth. I make my voice as normal as possible. 

Bodhi groans. “This is why I can’t tell if you're lying or not."

The tiniest smile tips up the side of my mouth. 

“You don't have to bury this,” Liam says, ducking his head to catch my eye. 

"I can't talk about it either," I say, shaking my head. "Not until you've done yours."

"I'm not stupid, it's called interrogation for a reason," Liam says. "You didn't break, did you?" 

My traitorous eyes dart to his face. The ache in my chest intensifies. “No. I treated it like someone was trying to get information out of me about..." I don't say the word but I know they understand I mean Resson. "Tomas broke.”

“Not Cohen?” Liam asks, his eyes widening slightly. 

“No,” I say, “because like at land navigation...” 

Liam sighs. “Tomas protects his squad. He must have figured someone couldn't take much more.” 

I nod and look down. "Exactly. And now I'm mad at him because I spent the most time in the chair. Forget I said that. And I got the worst beating. Forget that. And I didn't break." 

“Well, you were strong,” Liam says. “Take that learning from this.” 

“It's good to be strong,” Bodhi says on my other side.

I scoff and place my hands on my lap under the table. “I don't want to be the strong one.”

What I don't say is: I want to be the girl who gets rescued. I want to be the girl who someone will break for. I want someone to tell me I did well. Not that I'm strong. I've been strong my whole life because I can't not be. 

"Piece of advice," I say to Liam after checking no one can overhear us. "Not having access to your dragon during this really fucks with your head." Turning back to my plate, I shove the feelings back down inside, burying them down, down, down. When I speak next, my voice is just as it always is - calm, controlled. “Look, right now I want to eat my meal in peace because I haven't eaten properly since Friday.” 

“Ryn,” Liam tries. 

“Bye Liam.”  

Bodhi sighs. “Ryn, let me-”

“Bye. Bye. Bodhi.” 

They don't reply, but they don't leave. Not even when I'm halfway done with my meal and can barely eat another bite. 

I start on my first orange and feel my pain and anger seep away, replaced with the underlying exhaustion. I yawn and don't cover my mouth. 

“It was just an interrogation.” I shake my head to stop myself from falling asleep as I start to peel my second orange. “A challenge. I'm just angry because..." Can I admit it? "Because Tân wasn't there before or after." 

"She wasn't?" Liam asks. "Surely she was there after?" 

I shake my head. "She was gone for over a day. She went off Friday evening, came back when I was already in my room early hours of Sunday." I drop my voice to a whisper. "Nolon couldn't heal us all so I had to go back this morning. And I couldn't let Tân heal me when she got back because otherwise Nolon would have known." 

Bodhi and Liam share a not so subtle look over my head. I'm sure this explains my behaviour.

“Well you're definitely allowed to be angry.” Bodhi's knee touches mine. At first gentle, then he presses harder against me. 

On the other side, Liam does the same. 

“I- I'm just complaining," I say, confused by their touching, and the way my body relaxes and melts slightly. My knees push back against theirs and I have to fight the urge to place my head onto Liam's shoulder. "I'm just being dramatic.” 

“No, you're letting us in,” Liam says. "So we can help you." 

A bucket of cold water slams over me. Metaphorically, of course. This is Basgiath. If someone's trying to hurt me, they'll just- fuck. Focus, Ryn. No! Focus. Fuck. No I'm not. I'm not letting them in. I am in control. I am not vulnerable. 

“You are,” Tân says. I don't know if she means I'm vulnerable, I'm letting them in, or I'm strong, but she could mean all of those at once. 

"I'm not ready for you yet," I say to her through our bond. 

Fuck. 

I don't even say I have to go, I just start to stand. Liam's hand wraps around my hip and he pulls me back down.

“What?” Liam snaps behind me. 

“You had to go there,” Bodhi replies, shaking his head. 

Liam sighs. "Fenryn, you did well. Really well."

Praise... My wide eyed gaze snaps to his. His hand slips from my hip to my knee and he squeezes gently before his touch leaves me completely. My stomach doesn't so much flop as do a combination of somersaults. 

"Is it okay if I walk with you to the library?" Liam asks, raising a brow. 

"Tân! I don't know what to say." 

"Say yes."

"No."

Liam's brows descend. "No?" 

"I have flight manoeuvres after lunch."

"Oh. Yeah, ours were cancelled this week thanks to a few injuries." He rubs his chin. "Right. I'll walk you there then." 

"What about Sorrengail?" I ask, looking past his head, over at the table of Fourth Wing second years who sit together polishing off their lunch. 

Liam hums and glances over, then looks back at Bodhi. "Could you...?" 

Bodhi rolls his eyes and nods as he stands. "Later, Ryn." 

"Bye Bodhi." 

"Come on," Liam says, standing, "we need to drop Sloane off at physics first." 

"What a way to make a girl feel less special," I say to Tân. 

Liam snorts a laugh and shakes his head. 

"Oh shit, did I say that out loud?" I ask Tân as ice seeps down my spine. 

"Yes, you did," she laughs. 

And just like that, from a good lunch, nice company, and my disastrous flirting, I feel more like myself than I have in a weekend.

Chapter Text

By the end of August, our squad have lost our first and second cadets. I'd almost started to think we wouldn't. But there they fall, both within one week. It affects me so much more than I thought it would. Oh, who am I kidding? It affects me just as much as I thought it would. 

I ask myself each night if there was anything I could have done. Could I have Mended them? Told them not to be so stupid? Not to be so kind? Not to fight like they did? Anything. I search within every moment of their last days to see where I went wrong. I'm not their leader, but I feel the pain and pressure of each loss just as much as Tomas. 

We're all harder on the cadets after that – we join them on their runs. We train them in the training rooms for longer. We decide they'll run the gauntlet as many times as we did last year, to make sure we keep as many of them alive as possible. 

I'm so dedicated to this, I start missing library sessions. Then training sessions. The mat challenges are over so I don't think much of it, until Cohen comes to get me from my room while I'm studying, and tells me we need to let off some steam. 

I don't want to go, but he says, “Sloane asked me. Which means, she asked you,” and I drop my pen to my desk and rise, stretching. If there's a first year I want to survive above everyone else, it's Sloane. It's treacherous to my Wing, to my Squad, but she's my age. Actually, I'm younger than her. But I feel like she's me last year. Scared. Unprepared. But with a will of iron, ready to be moulded and shaped into something stronger. 

Fourth Wing Flame Section are in the largest training room when we arrive. They're sectioned off into mini training camps, filled with cadets I don't know because I've only paid attention to my own first years for the past few weeks.

Rhiannon stands with one group, watching them intently as they hoist bags of sand onto their shoulders and fling them down again. 

There are a few mat challenges going on, but it looks rather low key and pretty civilised. All in all, I think Rhiannon's running a tight and well oiled ship, as are her two other Squad Leads. 

There must be over twenty first years here. It makes my heart ache for the ones we've lost already. I rub my sternum to alleviate the almost constant pressure. 

We start moving between second and third years, greeting them to let them know we're not from their squads, and chatting to them about how they're training their cadets. They all seem to know who I am and ask for some advice here and there. It must be thanks to spending more time with Liam, but I'm not complaining. None of them seem like they want to kill me so I'll always take that as a plus.

Cohen joins one of the Squad Leads in a spar to show the cadets how it's done. Blowing off steam, my arse. He's looking for his next win. At least he's sticking to no churmem now. Fucking Gayl. Why she ever got into that, I don't know, and I don't want to know.

I notice Bodhi and Liam at one of the stations in the far corner. Well, I noticed them both the moment I walked in, but I didn't want to just go straight over. Bodhi waves at me and Liam turns, arms crossed. He inclines his head so I start to make my way over.

I'm crossing an empty mat when I bump straight into the chest of that annoying first year, Graycastle. He's wearing a sleeveless vest and sparring leathers, and has a raised eyebrow that might have worked on me if I was a first year and wasn't fucking tired of seeing people die. 

“Zynd, isn't it?” Graycastle asks, looking me up and down again. 

I raise a brow to match his. “And you are?”

“Aaric Graycastle,” he says, crossing his arms. He's taller than me, and I'm nearly six foot in my boots, so I have to look up but not much. “We met the other day.” 

Ah. He's the type who thinks a woman would remember him. Tân growls. I agree.

“Did we?” I ask, twitching my eyebrows together. 

Aaric's bright green eyes narrow slightly and the side of his mouth tips further up.

"He seems bemused," I tell Tan.

"Continue," Tân laughs.

"We did," Aaric says. 

“Huh.”

He clears his throat. “You would be the first person to not remember me, which leads me to suspect you're just playing a game.” 

I tilt my head and frown. “What kind of game?” 

His smile broadens and he slides his hands into his pockets. The movement draws my eye to his belt, which holds two things I want. “Hard to get.” 

“Cohen?” I shout over my shoulder, keeping my eyes on Aaric. 

Cohen pants out a “Yeah?” behind me. 

“Come here?” I call. 

“I'm in the middle of something,” he says through clenched teeth. Two blows sound, followed by a groan. 

“Cohen?” 

“What?”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Fuck sake, Fenryn. I'm in the middle of a fucking fight.” 

I leave a pause and hear another thump, followed by a few hisses from the people behind me. “Can you come here though?”

“Why?”

I don't answer. There's a pause. Cohen groans. Skin slapping against skin. Two taps of the mat. A smattering of applause. Running feet. 

“What?” Cohen asks, appearing at my side. 

“Don't you think this guy looks like the Prince of Navarre?” 

Cohen narrows his eyes. “What? No.” 

“Okay, second question, why the fuck is he talking to me like he's the Prince of Navarre?” 

Cohen chuckles, finally understanding me. The ‘Prince of Navarre’ is something Gayl used to call people if they were: “Self righteous? Arrogant? Overly confident?” Cohen asks. 

“Tick, tick, tick.”

Cohen clucks his tongue. “Must have a death wish.” 

I turn my attention to Cohen and smile. “Thank you for throwing your fight for me.” 

“Oh, I didn't.” He looks over his shoulder and grins at the Squad Leader who's sporting a black eye and talking to a rapt audience. “Can I watch?” 

“Yup," I answer.

Bodhi and Liam walk up, choosing to stand beside Aaric and myself.

"Can I challenge your first year?" I ask Bodhi.

Bodhi grins immediately and nods. "Absolutely fine with me, just don't hurt him."

"Thank you." I tilt my head and address Aaric, pointing at his belt. “I want your swords for training.”

Aaric's eyes widen. “No.” 

“Well I'm challenging you,” I say, straightening. “If I win, I get your swords.”

Aaric grins. His eyes drag from my feet to my face. “If I win, I take you to bed.” 

What? My face scrunches. “That is not at all equitable.” 

“Oh, I don't know,” Cohen says, leaning his elbow on my shoulder. “Either you fuck him or he fucks you.” 

Crossing my arms, I raise a brow. “Well from the looks of things he wouldn't last long. All bravado and no trousers, so I think I'd be fucking him in both scenarios.” 

Liam covers his mouth, but Bodhi laughs outright. Aaric's cheeks turn a soft pink, and I almost feel bad. Almost.

Cohen scoffs and leans down to whisper in my ear. “It worries me that you can talk like this to a first year but not the guy you actually fancy.”

“Why would I talk like this to him?” I whisper, frowning up at him. 

Cohen blinks. “You're so sheltered. I'll explain later. Go on.” 

Stepping onto the mat, I make sure to widen my eyes and bite my lip when I notice Aaric has kept his swords, which are now in his hands. His mouth tilts into a shit eating smirk. 

There are a few cadets around the mat watching, Bodhi, Liam and Sloane amongst them. And Cohen, who's decided to call the match. I still only have my two daggers, which I keep at my sides. Every training session I only bring two. That's my rule. Any more, and I'm setting myself up for failure in the field.  

“Go,” Cohen calls. 

Aaric does as I expected, and dashes towards me. He's definitely had training, but as Cohen whispered before I went onto the mat, he's still a first year, and he doesn't seem to fight dirty from what Cohen's observed on the mat. Too bad for Aaric, nothing is beneath me if it means I'll survive.  

I run at him. At the last second, I twist my body and drop to one knee, making myself small. Throwing my elbow back, I slam it into his balls. 

Aaric’s running too fast to stop immediately, so he runs right over me, letting out a breathless grunt. His hands are already weak from the pain of my move so I wrap my hands around the sword hilts when he's still flying over my head, prying them easily from his grasp. 

Gasping, he falls to his knees in front of me and I stand, swinging one sword to the front of his neck, the other to the back. 

If he moved, I would cut his neck. If I decided to twist the swords, he wouldn't have a head. 

He's beaten, and he knows it. 

Aaric faces away from me, so I gently flick the front blade up, tilting his chin. He acquiesces to my movement and follows my guidance until he's sat on his heels, panting, looking up at me. 

Huh. He does have lovely sparkling green eyes when they're unguarded. Now I can see why he thinks he's attractive. 

“Yield,” I command. 

Aaric's throat bobs. The blade of his sword is so sharp it shaves off his stubble. Slowly, he reaches down and taps the mat twice. At no point does his gaze leave mine. 

“Good boy,” I whisper. 

His eyes darken until the green is almost all black iris. For a split second, I'm taken aback by the feeling flooding through me - I feel powerful. 

"Well done," Tân says. I can hear the pride in her voice. If Aaric had a dragon, I'm sure she would be on her way to boast about her rider's win. 

"He's a first year," I sigh. 

"That would have worked on a third year as well, and you now it." 

Removing the swords from Aaric's neck, I swing them up onto my shoulders and strut away, so Liam will see my hips swinging like Mirabel taught me. 

“Cohen?” I throw Cohen the second sword and we head to the back of the room, where we know we'll be free to fight properly. 

Cohen shouts to the whole room when we get to a certain point, telling them not to go past the line of mats if they don't want to die. 

“Septon teach you that move?” Cohen asks when we're face to face in the middle of a mat. 

“Aura, actually,” I reply. 

We place our swords to our noses, then flick them down. I drop to a crouch. Cohen stands tall, circling me.

Cohen grew up in one of the richer families of Navarre. Not royalty and not titled, but significant enough that his decision to join the riders quadrant shocked his mum quite a lot. Which means he's been training with swords ever since he was a child.

Gayl grew up similarly, perhaps even richer than Cohen as she'd met the King and his sons by the time she was six, but her father was a rider so it wasn't too much of a stretch for her to join the quadrant.

Me? I know what I was taught as a child. I fight dirty thanks to my experiences at the pits. Otherwise, my fighting and swordplay comes from the hours I spent honing my craft on the mat last year, spurred on by my ability to feel pain, but to heal my injuries quickly - I know what I'm inflicting. 

And I wasn't joking when I told Liam and the others I have great stamina after I heal. 

“Do not lose control, little one. End him.”

Tân's absolute faith in me is what I need right now, and I hug her through our bond. Our relationship hasn't got back to how it was when she left me during interrogation. Knowing she was out having sex while I was being tortured reminded me she's in control, and I would be lost without her. She keeps trying to tell me we're in this together, but are we? 

“We are,” she tells me. 

“You could fly off at any moment,” I say. 

“I told you. I will inform you next time.”

I still worry she won't. 

Cohen and I spar for a while until he cracks out a move he's not shown me before. His sword is halfway to mine when he yells, “Pause!” 

I stop still, panting. 

“Right, if you don't flip your sword now, your blade will slice into your shoulder.” Cohen demonstrates what he'd do, and I curse. He's right. “So you want to just flip or twist the hilt in your hand to deflect or at least take the brunt.”

I've done this before, but not in this position, so my muscles complain. Still, I echo Cohen's movement and twist the sword hilt as quick as I can with my palms as slick with sweat as they are. 

“Faster.”

I try again.

Cohen, gaze fixed on my hands, shakes his head. “Faster.” 

We stand like this for over two minutes, or at least fifty rotations of my sword, until I place the sword on the ground and remove my shirt. I'm left in the band which sits tight across my breasts, bare to where my sparring leathers sit between my waist and hips. 

The sweat dripping down my back and arms is getting too much and I need to nail this. I wipe my arms and hands on the shirt and chuck it to the side, returning to my original position. I try again.

“No, faster,” Cohen corrects. 

This isn't the first time we've done this, and it won't be the last. I will survive Basgiath. Cohen will survive. And to survive, you need to practice. Last year I was here so much, Septon and Aura invited me to train with them when they visited the rooms. And only Cohen knows about the kissing.  

“Faster.”

My hands are almost numb, if not for the blisters rising rapidly over the top of my existing callouses. 

“Faster.”

My legs are bent and ache under the pressure of the weight of the sword held so precariously in my hands. 

“Faster.” 

I will not give up. 

“Good. Again.”

Yes! 

“Well done, little one,” Tân chuffs. 

“Again.” 

I complete the move to the right speed eight more times to get to Cohen’s required ten (with every new movement, Cohen requires ten perfect demonstrations before he'll continue. His father taught him like that, so that's how he teaches me). Then, he says, “Go," and swings his sword.

I flick my wrist, and when his blade meets mine, the flat edge slams into my shoulder, protecting me from losing my life. I cry out when Cohen's weight follows the blow, elongating the attack, forcing me backwards. 

The blades clash and slide together as I struggle to hold my position. Extending my leg past his side, I turn, spinning out. This forces Cohen to the mat. He completes a forward roll before I can swing my sword round to meet his back, and runs to the next mat along. 

I follow, sprinting to catch him. 

When Cohen and I fight, we don't let the mats define our sparring space. He wants to prepare us both for a true fight, which won't be contained within a small space. This is why we need space. This is how we let off steam. This is why Cohen warned everyone not to run past our line. 

Cohen turns, arching his sword overhead. I flick mine to hold the blow but the force of it throws me onto my back. I exhale all the air in my lungs in one breath. 

I don't have time to think about the pain in my arms or shoulders, or the fact I have no breath left in my body, as Cohen follows his sword down and lands on top of me. 

The blades slide between us, both flat luckily for me. The cool steel presses against the hot skin of my belly, shocking me. Cohen shifts a hand and presses it around my throat. His focus moves to his hand and this allows me a moment to breathe.

“Yield,” he says. 

“Nope.” 

I've been training for this since Halfsson bested me.

Grinning, I wrap my thighs around his hips, cross my ankles, and buck with all my might. With a roar, I arch my back and push my hips until I flip us overhead, rolling us vertically over. And then I'm on top. I disconnect my ankle hold as we fall to the ground, straddle him, and slide our swords to his neck. 

“Yield,” I pant. 

“Fucking ace, Fen,” he says. 

“Thanks,” I reply. I frown, taking in his raised eyebrow. “Fuck.” 

He gives me a split second head start and I roll to the side, narrowly dodging his fist which would have driven into my ribs. 

Ten minutes pass and finally, both gasping for breath, slick with sweat and exhausted, we tap the mat at the same time and shake hands. 

“I'll give these back.” Cohen walks over to Aaric while I meander over to the door, frowning down at my bleeding palms. 

Picking up my shirt, I wrap it around the broken skin. 

“Nah, she doesn't take what's not hers,” Cohen says over his shoulder, making his way back to my side. “Prince Aaric's going to be washing sweat off those hilts for a while. Pretty fucking good swords though," he says when he reaches me. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, just a few blisters.” The cuts have already healed themselves by the time Cohen inspects my hands. “Anything for you?” 

Cohen holds out his arms and I place my hand to his forearm. Closing my eyes, I push magic into his body. 

“A few cuts and bruises but nothing major.” I step back and wipe his sweat from my hand. “Alright if I leave you with them?”

“How dare you make me heal myself,” Cohen jokes, throwing his arm across my shoulders. 

Retching and sticking my tongue out, I duck out of the way of his sweaty arm and sprint over to Sloane. 

“It's just like water!” Cohen shouts.

I retch again and join Sloane, Liam, Bodhi, Rhiannon and a few of the cadets at their weights station.  

“Not a fan of sweaty hugs?” Sloane asks, glancing over my shoulder.

I pick up my waterskin and shake my head. “Damp skin.” I take a swig of water. “Nope.” 

Sloane wrinkles her nose. “There are so many layers to you. Just when I think I've got you worked out there's a new curveball. But you were fine when Cohen was on top of you.” 

"You were watching?" I ask.

"We all were," Sloane laughs.

This makes me smile. “Sparring is different. It's a by-product of exercise and I can block it out for the most part. When there's nothing to distract me…” I cover my mouth with my fist. 

"And people wonder why you don't shag everyone in sight," Cohen says. 

"Please don't," I mutter, trying not to glance at Liam. 

"Think of it, Fenryn," Cohen says, "a nice hot summer's night. Bodies sliding together. Moans, groans and-"

"I will throw up purposefully onto you. You know I will," I warn Cohen, who laughs. 

"One day," he says, poking my shoulder and earning himself a slap on the hand, "you'll meet the right man-"

"Or woman," I interject. 

"Man or woman, fair," he nods, "whose body you can abide touching yours for more than... Five minutes." 

"Sorry, do you think sex only lasts five minutes?" I ask, unable to hide my surprise. "Please say you're not including foreplay in that number? Good gods, Cohen." 

Sloane snorts.

Cohen glares at me. "Back on the mat. I'll shut you up." 

“Where did you learn to fight?” Bodhi asks, catching my eye. 

Cohen starts laughing before I have a chance to answer. “Fenryn doesn't talk about her past. All Gayl and I ever found out was her parents died when she was seven.” 

“And she had a sister,” Sloane says, smiling. “Plath.”

“Yes, but,” Cohen says, wagging his finger, “they had different surnames.” 

“Lots of people have different surnames,” Sloane counters, tipping her head. 

“Not in Luceras.”

“Yeah, but she's from Aretia originally, isn't she?” 

“Well, she once told Gayl she didn't have siblings growing up, but Plath was older than her.”

"I want to leave," I tell Tân.

“Then go, little one.” Tân snaps her teeth. 

“They'll think I'm rude." 

Tân snarls. "Liam has asked his carrier dragon to pass on a message." 

"He has?" I ask, looking at Liam, only to find he's already watching me. 

He nods his head towards the door and mouths, "You don't have to stay." 

"Thank you," I mouth back. 

Pretending to saunter over to another station, I slink away, leaving the training room while they still crowd around, piecing together the scant information I've provided anyone since I arrived at Basgiath. 

“Plath would have been proud of you,” Tân says, her voice covering my sniffles. 

It's only when I reach my room that I allow my tears to fall. Crouching in the corner, I mourn the woman I called a sister, who wasn't blood, but was the closest thing to family I've ever had. She taught me everything I know. She kept me as safe as she could. And she died, alone at Basgiath. 

“Two more years,” Tân growls. 

I suck a breath and lean my head back against the wall, taking in the darkening sky outside my window. 

Just under two more years until Tân tells me what happened to my sister. 

I just have to fulfil my promise. I just have to make it to graduation. 

Chapter Text

One night at the start of September, I come back from a nighttime meeting with Tân and can't escape the lure of a shower. It's past midnight, so past curfew, which means the bathing room is blissfully empty when I arrive. 

I wash indulgently, embracing as much of the warm water as I can before guilt rears its ugly head and moves me to the changing room - I don't want to steal all the water before morning. 

I'm in just my underwear, my curls tumbling down my back, when Liam walks in. We both draw our daggers, and I'm fully prepared to stab him, until I recognise his handsome face.

Smiling, I lower my dagger and he does the same.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," he replies, sighing.

His face is smeared with blood, and he curses as he begins stripping his jacket, choosing to stand at the bench beside me. I almost can't believe my luck. 

“Rough night?” I ask, focusing on my bag. I take out my pot of cream. I tip my head back as I begin rubbing it into my collarbone and shoulders.  

I can't bring myself to feel self conscious of my choice of underwear, which is made up of black lace - a frivolous birthday present to myself. Liam was at Resson. And at Aretia. He's seen it all before. I wish he'd see more, but that's another thing entirely. 

Liam waits a beat. I can feel his gaze on me. Then he answers, “You could say that.” 

I turn my head to look at him as he wrenches his vest over his head. His strong chest is marred with bruises, not all of them look like they're from sparring, and more than a few of them look fresh. Too fresh. 

“Interrogation?” I ask, leaning so I can see his back.

“Interrogation,” he confirms, “thanks for the warning about the juice, by the way. In the end Varrish turned up to take part. Let's just say, he doesn't take kindly to it if you try to fight him.”  

“Noted. It looks bad.”

“You should see the others,” he says, stripping his leathers. 

I force my gaze to the ceiling. “Are they getting Mended?” 

“Yeah. Vi’s already done but the others will be back soon. I should have gone too but I wanted to stay with Vi.” There's a pause, then Liam's deep chuckle fills the space. “Don't worry. I'm not infantry. I always cover my arse.” 

I snort and smile at his lopsided grin. “Can I check?” I ask, turning to him, holding a hand out to his bare, battle honed chest. 

He steps forwards to meet me. “Anytime.” 

Huffing a laugh, I place my hands on his stomach and close my eyes, trying to focus on pushing my magic out into his wounds, rather than the feel of his muscles under my fingertips. I could have chosen his arm, but what other time would I be allowed to touch his abs like this? A girl's got to take every opportunity she can. 

“It's bad, but shouldn't take too long to heal,” I say, sliding my fingertips to his sides to get a proper hold. "Just stay there." 

His hands cover mine and he holds them in the air. “You don't have to do this.” 

I frown. “It's what I do.”

“Not for me," he says, holding my gaze, "not in the middle of the night.” 

I swallow down the lump in my throat and try not to focus on the heat rising through me. “Do you not want me to, or are you trying to be stoic and honourable?” 

Liam's jaw tenses. 

Without breaking his gaze, I slide my hands slowly over his arms, up to his shoulders. His eyes flutter shut and open, then shut, and open. His throat bobs.

I keep going until my fingers and palms flatten over the curve of his upper chest. Gods, I don't even care if he thinks I'm being creepy. This will fill my dreams a while. Instinctively, I step closer, drawn in by the warmth I feel. I close my eyes as his hands find my waist and he pulls me even closer, until our chests are touching. 

“Does touching help?” he whispers, rubbing his nose against mine. 

My eyes fly open and I stare up into his sky blue gaze. “Yes. It's… easier for me to assess the injuries, and quicker to draw them away.” 

“You didn't touch Deigh.” 

“Which made it worse,” I whisper. Blinking, I force my gaze to my hands. Annoyingly, it does nothing to stop the rush of heat moving steadily to my cheeks. “I break my ankles sometimes, jumping off Tân, so things like bone breaks aren't too bad now. My body can heal quickly. New kinds of injuries I'm not used to hurt more, and it's harder for me to concentrate on healing.” 

“You don't have to do this,” he repeats. 

“I want to.” My gaze flicks to his. 

My eyebrows draw together and I whimper. It must hurt him too, because he purses his lips, his nostrils flare, and his hands firm around my waist and he adjusts us, so I'm not so close to his body. 

Closing my eyes, I manage to keep the worst of the pain hidden as I remove his bruising and a few internal injuries, transferring them onto my own body. All I let out are gasps. 

“You've been walking around like this?” I hiss when I'm done, all sexiness stripped out of the situation and replaced with pain. 

He catches me before I drop to the floor and lifts me, cradling me to his chest with his arms under my back and behind my knees. He lowers me to the bench effortlessly, using his wash bag as a pillow.

Kneeling beside me, his fingers gently trace my brow, and I recognise the feeling from Aretia, though now I know it was Bodhi before. 

“You said it's worse for you,” he mutters. “To heal someone, you feel the pain tenfold.” 

Moaning, I nod and try to sit. 

Liam pushes me back down, his fingers firming around my bare waist. “Rest. Heal. I'll keep watch. It's the least I can do.” 

“Sorrengail,” I moan. He spends all his time with her. Protecting her. 

“Is in bed. Which means I'm all yours.”

I can't stop my slight moan at the promise in his words. His lips press against my forehead and his hand rubs over my bare stomach. Releasing me, he turns and does as he said he would - he keeps watch, twirling a dagger in his hand. 

It only takes a few minutes for my body to heal the intense bruising, but it feels longer. Finally, I sit up and this time, Liam doesn't stop me. 

He looks up at me from where he sits with his back to the bench. “Why do you Mend people all the time?” His hand finds a particularly bad bruise left on my upper thigh. He massages it with his thumb, watching as it disappears in front of his eyes. “Why, Fenryn?” he prompts. 

“Why do you protect Sorrengail all the time?” I retort.

Liam sighs and slides his hand to my knee. “Xaden asked me to at first, but she's my friend. It gives me purpose, and… like you said, it's honourable.” 

Humming, I push his hand away and stand. The heat within me has gone, replaced with a cold shock of reality. “I can't stand seeing other people suffering when I could help. The pain is piercing, but for me it's over in a few minutes. For them, it could be life or death.”

Liam huffs a laugh. “Can I say I'm disappointed that you healed me?” 

I scrunch my nose. “Why?”

“I've always had this fantasy about having my injuries cleaned by a beautiful woman.” 

Beautiful. Woman. 

“Has that line ever worked?” I laugh, walking over to my night clothes. 

“Never used it before.”

I swallow and force a laugh. “I find that hard to believe, especially here.” 

“You're not the only one who's spent more time training than fucking.” 

“You train?” I glance at him with what I hope is a cheeky grin. 

“You should leave those off if you're going to join me in the shower,” he says, watching me slip my shorts up my legs. 

This makes me scoff. “I’ve already washed, and I'm not going to lick wounds you don't have.” 

“You did not just say that,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Fenryn, I will go and get into a fight right now.” 

“Don't you dare,” I say, grinning at him. I can't tell him, but this conversation has cheered me up more than I could say. It's like joking with Cohen, but more… fun. There's no pressure. Just words. I'm sure in the morning it'll be like a fever dream, but for now it's everything. “So dramatic.”  

“My room is just down the hall," he says, eyes dark and full of something I seriously, seriously hope is lust. 

Keep talking Fenryn. Keep talking, I tell myself. 

“So’s mine.” Lifting my arms, I draw my shirt over my head, taking my time, rolling the fabric slowly over my body in case there's a chance he's watching.

His voice is low and gravelly when he replies, “I bet my bed’s bigger than yours.”

Chuckling, I start gathering my things. “Second year bunks are all the same. And anyway, size doesn't impress me.” 

“Please tell me what does.” 

I force a nonchalant shrug. “I can't.” Though I want to. I really, really want to. Gods, Liam. 

“What can you tell me?” 

Biting my lip, I look over at him to assess how serious he is about that. 

Liam's glaring at my legs, and he's barely moved - just braced his forearm over his knee to cover his lap. Apart from his face and despite wearing only his undershorts, he looks the picture of relaxation. 

“What do you want to know?” I ask tentatively. 

His gaze flicks from my legs to my face. “Bodhi says you're a fucking good liar, so tell me something true.” 

“By your own logic, you won't know if it's a lie or not.” 

“I’ll just have to hope you trust me.” 

“I trust you,” I say honestly, “but it’ll ruin the mood.” 

“You have my permission to ruin more than just the mood.” 

Rolling my eyes to stop the rush of need running through my body which threatens to drive me to my knees, I turn back to the wall and shove the last of my things in my bag. I fight away the daydream of straddling him and losing my virginity on the floor of the changing room of all places. 

“Fenryn?” Liam asks. 

My gaze moves from his hands to his face. 

“The fighting pits,” I say, “in Luceras.” 

“What?” Liam breathes. 

“A while ago, Bodhi asked where I learnt how to fight," I whisper. "I was there for a few years.” 

“I won't tell anyone,” Liam promises.

“Thank you.”

“The pits..." He frowns. I know that look. He's judging me. Or pitying me. Or trying to work out - "Is that where you met Plath?”  

Oh. Worse. That's worse. 

I don't answer him. I don't look at him. I don't breathe. I just leave. I don't want to talk about my tragic life anymore. I don't even want to think about it. 

Tân healed my scars. But my heart? My muscles? They remember. And I wish they didn't. 

I'm almost at the stairs to the Second Wing dorms when I hear, “Fenryn,” behind me.

“Yeah?”

I turn to find Liam leaning out of the bathing room doorway, his hair more mussed than it was seconds ago - like he's run his hands through it. 

He points the opposite direction to where I'm going. “Upstairs. Second year dorms. Second door on the left. It's always open to you.” 

I glance down, thinking hard. 

“Just, you know. If you need a hug. There are only certain times I won't be keeping one eye on Sorrengail. Night is one of them. So if you ever need me, you know where to find me. You… you don't have to be strong with me.” 

He retreats into the bathing room, and I start walking. It's only when I'm snuggled into his bed - he's right, it is a lot bigger than mine for some reason - and have placed a hastily scribbled note on his other pillow telling him not to get handsy, that I realise how tired I am. My eyes drift shut. 

My eyes fly open when Liam returns and the door swings open. He must not have thought I would take him up on his offer, because he's talking to someone loudly. 

I'm on my side facing the wall, and the realisation of where I am makes a jolt of worry spear through me. I'm not upset anymore, so I can think properly. Was his offer empty and he didn't expect me to come? 

Fuck. I shouldn't have come. 

I stay stock still and wait for him to shout at me and tell me to leave, and tell me how he was joking, he didn't really mean to invite me. Tell me it was a joke...

Gods. Oh gods.

"Er- excuse me?" Ridoc says. "I can't come in?" 

“No. I'll see you in the morning,” Liam says. 

“You just said you'd sew my patch for me,” Ridoc complains. “I want it ready for formation.” 

“Just give me the jacket,” Liam says. “Stay outside.” 

“Why? Drying your underwear?” Ridoc scoffs. 

“Shut up.” 

The door clicks shut and I open my eyes a crack. Liam stands by his desk underneath the window, sewing. Gods. He's standing at his desk sewing. Can he get any hotter?

Less than a minute later he bites the end of the string with his teeth and slides the needle into a small leather pouch which he rolls up and tucks into a pot. I close my eyes before he catches me watching him. 

The door opens with a click. “Here.” 

“Thanks!” Ridoc says. 

The door shuts quietly. A draw opens and closes. The rustle of fabric. Creaks of floorboards. The crinkle of paper by the bed. A huffed laugh. The dip of the bed. The click of the light. Slow breathing. 

Apart from adjusting the cover to take more for himself, he doesn't touch me. 

I roll onto my front, lift my knee to my chest, and snuggle into the pillow. 

“Night, Fenryn," Liam says. 

“Night, Liam.” 

A moment later, my eyes fly open and I sit up, kneeling beside him. "Liam?" 

"Fenryn," he says, sitting up immediately. The curtains are open, so the moonlight shines off the hard lines of his face. 

"What patch did Ridoc make you sew for him?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. 

A slow smile spreads across his face. 

"Did you win the patch?" I ask. "The 'we didn't break at all and we escaped interrogation' patch?"

He bites his lip and nods. 

"Fuck's sake!" I cry, throwing myself onto my back. "I wouldn't have healed you if I knew that! Of course you fucking did. Absolute fucking-" 

Liam laughs and wraps an arm underneath me, tugging me into his side. "I said you could stay here if you needed a hug," he says. "So pay up." 

I snort, but bury my face in his neck and allow him to hold me. "Dick." 

Two minutes. I let myself lie in his arms for two minutes, then I roll away and return to my first position, pretending to be asleep. 

Chapter Text

The pre-dawn light wakes me. Blinking slowly, I stretch and frown, registering a weight just underneath my breasts.

My eyes fly open as the weight shifts and a hand flexes against my bare stomach. I look down, and see an arm extended underneath my top. Eyes wide, I look to the side.

Liam. He's even more stunning when he's asleep. His eyes shut, hair against his forehead, mouth open, he snores lightly beside me. 

I move an inch, and he groans and adjusts his hand to slip further under my top. Gasping, I push his hand down a little and breathe, staring at the ceiling as I try to calm. It was just an accidental graze of my chest, but holy shit.

I swallow and look at him again. He's still asleep. Good. As much as I want to stay, I have to go before the bells start ringing. It takes me four minutes (counted in seconds in my mind) to extract myself from his bed. I have no idea what the etiquette is when leaving someone's room, so I make my side of the bed, even though if it were my bed I wouldn't bother. 

I find my wash bag where I left it, on top of the desk. I can't help running my hand through his blonde mop of hair once before I leave. It's just as soft as I imagined. 

Gods, I'm so fucking creepy. 

I leave as quietly as I can. 

I hear whistling when I pass the bathing rooms. Cohen pops his head out and his eyes grow wide. "Coming from somewhere?" he asks.

I shake my wash bag at him. "No, just hoping I'd be alone," I say.

Cohen grumbles. "Fine, well, off with you."

I hear a squeak behind me and turn to see Brisa standing in the middle of the hallway. "I didn't realise anyone would be here," she says.

Rolling my eyes, I walk past her and mutter, "I'll just bathe later." 

Giggles sound behind me. The door to the bathing room swings shut as I run back to my room. 

I can't quite believe I got away with it. Heart racing, I lean against the inside of my bedroom door and stare at the ceiling. I slept in Liam's bed. 

I slept in Liam's bed.

Friends or not, I slept in Liam's bed.

Liam. The man I've been in love with for over a year. The man I'm going to have to see at breakfast, then Battle Brief, then flight manoeuvres. 

Mortifying. 

I cover my eyes and fall onto my bed. For a moment I wonder why there isn't a codex for this kind of thing, then I realise if there was a codex, I wouldn't have read it. 

Liam

Yawning, I rub my face with both hands, then let one drop to my side. Scratching my nose with the other, I stare at the ceiling. That's when I remember the bathing room last night. 

Suddenly, I'm awake. Fully awake.

Fenryn.

Holy fucking gods.

I thought she looked good in a sheet in Aretia. I thought she looked good in Resson, saving my life. But that black lace set in the bathing room? Touching my chest. My arms. My stomach? 

I take in the dawn light and groan and roll onto my front, burying my face in my pillow. Vi will be up soon, which means I have to be up soon. 

I let out a garbled groan of annoyance and sniff. Lifting my head, I frown and look around my room. Something's different. A moment later I'm kneeling, assessing every inch of my room. My desk is the same. My bedside, same. My bed is half made, but my- 

Fenryn was in my bed last night.

Fucking Malek. How did I forget that? I rub my eyes again and yawn. I'm so tired. Oh. Interrogation. That'll be it. My mind's just a little slow to catch up this morning. 

Vi should be my focus.

Sighing, I lie back down and press my face against the pillow Fenryn slept on. Fruit. It smells like fruit. And reminds me of her hair.

She has so much hair. I don't think I've ever seen her hair down before last night and I honestly have no idea how she pulls all those curls into one small bun. Not that I want to know - I need to see it down more. 

And that hug.

The feel of her face pressed against my neck. Her hand on my collarbone. Her knee on top of my stomach. 

Wrong move. Somehow, I'm harder than before. 

Fuck's sake. I need to focus.

I have no idea how I went from guy who noticed girl, to guy saved by girl, to guy who's so fucking feral he's sniffing a pillow a girl slept on once. This isn't me. This is a teenage boy, not a twenty-one year old revolutionist. 

What a predicament.

My clock begins to ring. Yawning yet again, I slam my hand down on the lever to stop the grating bell, and swing my legs out of the bed. Rolling onto my feet, I stretch, then watch as a green dragon flies past the window. 

It's still only five thirty, so that means Fenryn left sometime between two (when I actually fell asleep) and now.

Fenryn

My mortification grows when Liam sits at the table next to me at breakfast, and Ridoc says he thinks he saw someone leave Liam's bedroom in the early hours. Liam says he doesn't think so, but Ridoc won't stop talking about it until Liam slaps him upside the head. Then, Ridoc grins at Liam, who hides his smile behind his hand, and calls over to me.

"Wasn't you, was it, Fenryn?" 

"What wasn't me?" I ask, looking up from my physics textbook as I stab a piece of scrambled egg with my fork. I know exactly what they mean, but I won't tell Ridoc that. I keep my face as neutral as possible and twitch my eyebrows together as I look between Ridoc, Sawyer, Rhiannon, Sorrengail, and Liam. 

Ridoc opens and closes his mouth. His black and bruised eye twitches. I've noticed all of the Squad apart from Liam and Sorrengail are still sporting some kind of injury. Which means Liam lied to me last night when he said the others were being Mended. 

"Oh, er, nothing," Ridoc says. "Don't trust me, I can barely see after interrogation."  

I frown and look at Cohen, who busies himself with his own eggs.

"What?" I ask Brisa, who pats me on the arm. 

"Liam fucked someone last night and Ridoc thought it was you," Tomas says, gaze trained on our cadets, who sit together at another table. 

"I got that part," I say, shrugging. The movement rubs the stiff fabric of my vest against my stomach and I clear my throat as I remember the feeling of Liam's hand sliding down from my breast. 

I decide I need to avoid Liam. If I don't, I might just jump him. 

But I can't avoid anyone for long at Basgiath. Especially not Sloane, who tries to catch me after Battle Brief.  

"Hear her out," Cohen whispers when Sloane approaches.

Frowning, I narrow my eyes at him. Why wouldn't I listen to her?

"You've been avoiding me," Sloane says. Her wide blue eyes remind me uncomfortably of Liam's and I look away. "And the others. Because we were talking about your past. I'm sorry. Okay? I didn't realise it was all a big secret."

"I'm not avoiding you. I'm busy helping train my first years for the gauntlet. But if I can come to additional training, I will," I say, shifting as far away as possible from the sister of the object of my current sexual fantasies. 

Sloane's face drops and she mumbles something, then leaves with another cadet. 

"Go easy on her," Cohen says. "She didn't know how precious you are about your past. She was just trying to bond." 

My lips curve down at the sides and I give a nonchalant shrug. "I don't care." I do care, but there's an uncomfortable twisting in my gut at the idea they know I care. "All good."

"Then start acting like it," Cohen says. "The poor girl thinks she's ruined your entire friendship."

Before I can ask Cohen why he cares, and retort that Sloane and I only train together so actually don't know much about each other, Liam grabs my elbow and steps in front of me.

"Mind if I grab a moment with Fenryn?" he asks Cohen, who gives a tight smile and walks off whistling, pointing at Tomas who's waiting at the end of the hall.  

I scoff internally. Liam didn't even bother to ask me if it was-

"Is that ok with you?" Liam asks me.

Oh. "Oh, yeah, sure." Fuck. I meant to say no.

Liam gives me the lopsided smile I love and I have to concentrate hard on his lips to figure out what he's saying.

"I've got something I have to do after dinner, so I won't be back in my room until past midnight again," he says, looking around. It must be secret marked one stuff because his voice is so low I can barely hear him. He raises it to a whisper to say, "But no one goes into my room when I'm not there, so I'll just try not to disturb you when I get in."

"Disturb me?" I ask with a frown. 

"You are coming back tonight, right? To sleep in my room?" 

“Oh." I clear my throat. "I don't think so."

Down the hall, Cohen waves at me and walks off with Tomas, leaving me all alone with Liam. Great. 

“What? Why not?” Liam's gaze searches mine. “Fenryn?"

What? He seems a lot more concerned about this than I thought he would.  Not knowing how to answer, I shake my head. 

He lowers his voice. “Did I touch you?”

I blink. “I mean, yeah, but I liked it." Shit. No. Don't tell him that. "I mean, it was just a hug," I lie. Gods I hope he can't tell when I'm lying.  

"Then why are you saying you won't come back to my bed? I must have done something. Tell me, Fenryn, so I can apologise, or-"

"Nothing!" I interrupt. "It was nothing. Gods. I'm just conscious someone might see me leave. I almost got caught by Brisa and Cohen as it is." 

“Is that a bad thing? So what if someone sees you?"  

I don't know what to say to that. I thought I was protecting him from people talking, but maybe…

“Did you sleep well?” Liam asks. His eyebrows draw together. His hands twitch towards me, then slide into his pockets. 

I nod. "Well, yeah." 

“Good. I did too. So what's the problem?” 

I open my mouth to argue. Then I close my mouth and frown. 

“Okay,” I say, adjusting my books. “Well, I guess I will come by tonight,” I say, going completely against my plan for self preservation and agreeing to go back into the den of temptation. 

“Good.” Liam’s eyes soften.

My stomach flops around. Maybe I should embrace this opportunity and maybe one day I'll wake up to more than just a-

“Don't worry. It won't be just you doing the early morning run back to your dorm. Vi's away this weekend so I can stay in your room Friday night," he whispers. "She won't be back until Sunday.” 

"Er, okay," I breathe. Fuck. I have to clear up. And wash my sheets. And find a nice pen pot for my desk.  

“So you'll come by tonight?” Liam asks with a hopeful expression on his face. Adorable. 

Tân's humming fills my mind. I hold up a hand and gently touch his forearm. “I’m sorry, I need to speak to Tân.” 

"Go for it." 

Closing my eyes, I drop my hand and reach out for Tân, who feels far away. 

“Where are you?” I whisper into our bond. 

“Coming. I will be in time for flight manoeuvres," she says. She sounds like she's flying. Out of breath at least. 

“Where have you been?” I ask sternly.  

“Luceras.”

My eyes fly open and my breathing increases. “You went without me? You said you wouldn’t.” 

"What's wrong?" Liam asks. 

I shake my head at him and close my eyes again. 

“You had briefing class. I was gone for two hours and always here if you needed me. If I strayed too far, I corrected."

I look at Liam. "Tan is searching for the limits of our bond."

Liam frowns. "Deigh says she'll be back soon," he says a moment later. "She's not far away at all." 

"I know, I know," I whisper, placing my hand to my forehead. "I just..." 

“You will join me next time I go outside of our bond realm," Tân promises. "Little one, I have not gone anywhere without your permission. I am still here." 

"Thank you. I'm sorry." 

"Do not be. Now, why do you need me?" Tân replies. 

I explain the issue with Liam and sharing beds to Tân. The more I get to know him, the more I want Liam. And if I can have Liam, I can't be sleeping in his bed platonically, can I? Or inviting him to sleep in mine...

"Can I?" I ask Tân.

"Mount him this weekend," Tân replies. “If he declines, move to his Section Leader.” 

"WHAT!?" I shout. 

Tân snaps her teeth. "You are asking an unmated dragon for advice and expecting an answer other than to mount?" 

I sigh. "Fair point.” A thought runs through my mind. "Have you... Mounted Deigh?" 

Tân growls. "No." 

"Then why don't you speak to him much?"

"If you mate with Deigh's rider, I will not be away from Deigh again. Why would I subject myself to his presence until that point?" 

"That's... Mean." 

"Is it? Now, you should decline his invitation to visit every night. Otherwise you would have no nights for me,” Tân chuffs. “And what if you want to train? You are not together. Keep an element of mystery about yourself.” 

She has a point. Sighing, I shake my head and open my eyes. Liam's already watching me closely. 

“Nope. Sorry, I'm not a schedule person," I say. "I don't know when Tân will need me.”  

“I don't care,” Liam replies. “I'll fit around you.” 

"You will?" I frown. 

“Fenryn!” Brisa shouts. I can't see her when I look around, so I walk to the window and lean out. Brisa is the floor below me, leaning out of the window to look up at me. “You free?” 

I glance at Liam, who smiles and nods his head. “I've got to get back.” 

“Coming!” Bracing my hands on the external window, I twist in the air as I jump outside, grabbing hold of the archway below and catching my feet on the window ledge.

“Hey.” I greet Brisa, who grins as I step down into the hallway she's in. “Lunch, library or training?”

“How about all three in that order?” 

“Perfect!”

I spend the next two nights with Liam. On Wednesday, Tân calls for me just after midnight, saying my name over and over until I wake. Liam doesn't grumble when I climb over him to escape his bed, he just rolls over and goes back to sleep. 

Tân wants me to meet her at the riverside, so I run down the multitude of steps from the quadrant in my bare feet, dressed only in my nightdress. It's chilly out now, but as always, I run hot so the coldness isn't a problem.

It's not the first time we've met here, nor will it be the last. Tân enjoys the long drinks she can have while we sit side by side, me watching the stars, her watching the water rippling. 

She's been making more of an effort over the past weeks to make me feel more at ease and get me to trust that she won't run away again. But now that I know she's testing the limits of our bond, I'm on edge. 

"I know, little one," she says, dipping her head until her nose is to the ground. 

I run straight to her head and press my forehead against her scales. Dragging my hand down her long face, I sigh and lean into her. "Why are you testing me?"

Her huff warms the ground around my feet. "I am not."

Liar. "You are. You're flying to Luceras of all..." I trail off and rub my sternum. She knows how I feel about that province. I don't want to ever go back, so the fact she's flying there unnerves me. It must be a test. 

"I do not want to leave you," Tân says, "but dragons... we make our own rules. I must make my own decisions, and my decision is that I will not leave you, which means Chradh must meet me."

Meet her? Gods. That won't work. "Oh, Tân. He can't meet you in the middle. He's based in Samara. He's needed at the front."

"There is no other way to keep your trust, my love," Tân replies. "I will fly to the edge of our bond in all directions to see where is the best place for Chradh to meet me." 

Stepping back, I hold out my hand. Tân raises her head, eyes softening when she tilts her head to look me in the eye. 

"Tân, I love you. You are mine and I am yours. Just tell me when you need to leave next time." 

Tân bows her head again, then raises her nose to meet my palm. Her voice is softer when she says, "I will tell Deigh to have his rider protect you next time I leave."

"Shut up." I duck my head when Tân nudges my stomach. "Yeah, yeah, you know where I came from tonight." She snuffles my bare legs and I giggle, then laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Get off," I hiss. 

"Your dragon acts like a puppy," Bodhi says behind me, shocking me. I whip round, holding my arms out behind to tell Tân not to attack. 

Still, Tân's low growl shakes not only the ground, but my entire body. Bodhi stands by the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed as if there's not a dragon behind me who might want to eat him. 

"You're out after curfew," he says. "Good thing I was warned." 

"Cuir will incur my wrath," Tân growls. 

Despite the seriousness of her words and the situation, I can't help my bubble of laughter at her accidental pun.

Bodhi raises a brow and I turn, rising to my tip toes to kiss Tân on where I assume her dragon cheek is. "Go on," I whisper. "And be nice to Cuir."

Tân leans back on her haunches, huffs a breath of hot air over me, and launches herself silently into the air. 

"Come on, you," Bodhi says.

Running over to him, I grin and look up. "You're taller tonight."

"You're not wearing shoes."

On our way back up to the quadrant, I repeat Tân's con-cuir joke. Disappointment floods my body when Bodhi barely laughs. I turn around on the stairs and make him wait three steps below me until I've explained the reason why it's funny, and why he of all people should find it entertaining.

He looks up at me as I speak and I have to hide my shiver at the intensity in his gaze as tingles run up and down my legs and arms, bringing goosebumps in their wake.

"Sorry that I don't find half-naked, bare-footed cadets joking about my dragon's name funny," he says. 

Gasping, I press my hand to my chest. "You say that as if we barely know each other, Bodhi Durran." Jumping down two steps, I look him in the eye and slowly slide my bottom lip out. 

Glancing from my lip to my eyes, Bodhi sighs. "A few weeks ago you were worried about Varrish. Now you're running around Basgiath, going from bed to bed, and meeting your dragon in the middle of the night."

My smile slips off my face. "I'm not going from bed to bed. Liam asked if I wanted to stay with him if I didn't want to be alone at night. I feel safe with him, so I've slept there three times. And I've always explored Basgiath at night. It's what Tân and I do."

"Just his bed?" Bodhi asks, narrowing his eyes. 

"Yes." My hands are on my hips before I finish the word. "I don't sleep around." Rubbing my forehead, I let out a frustrated noise. "I mean, obviously I am sleeping around because I'm sleeping with Liam, but it's just sleep, and it's only his bed. Gods, you know what I mean."

Bodhi raises an eyebrow. 

"It's just sleep," I complain. 

"It's none of my business."

"I con-cuir with that." 

Bodhi lets out a breath. Biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth does nothing to hide his smile. "It's not funny because that's not how you pronounce Cuir." 

My grin falls at the true sound of how you say Cuir.

"Shit." My wide gaze meets his. "Bodhi, I swear that's how Tân says it."

Bodhi rolls his eyes. "Cuir says he said her name wrong once and this is Tân's recompense. It's fine. You weren't to know." 

"Still, I'm sorry."

"No. You're right. The joke would be funny if Tân wasn't a..."

"Yeah, I wouldn't finish that sentence," I say as seriously as I can, "she can be a real bitch if someone crosses her." 

Bodhi lets out a breath of a laugh and I bounce on my step, grinning back at him. "You smiled. I'm off the hook."

"Just go back to bed. Your bed. And be good." 

"Always am."

He gives me a look that says he knows I'm not. "Read the Codex lately?" he asks. 

"You know I'm not the only one out after dark, Durran."

"Why does it worry me more when you use my surname?"

"Because it means you've been bad." 

"Well, Ryn, only one of us is a Section Lead who can get away with being out after dark."

"Isn't there some kind of camaraderie that comes from both of us having green dragons?" I ask. 

"No, you're thinking of the camaraderie that comes from being part of the super and exclusive club of marked ones. People I might not know well, but who I trust with my life."

Pouting, I trace my finger over his Section Lead patch and bring my eyebrows together. "If watching your parents be murdered is a prerequisite for joining said club, I'm just a large tattoo away from my lifetime membership. Surely you can make an exception for little ol' me."

Bodhi groans. His hand moves to my waist and he squeezes once before releasing me. "Your humour is so dark, Ryn."

"And yet you laughed," I say, popping a hip and drawing my hands behind my back. 

"Just go back to bed." 

"One second." I reach out and cup his cheek, flexing my fingers slightly against his prickly stubble. Closing my eyes, I'm channelling magic from Tân before I know it, pushing it out into his body. My eyes fly open. "You've got a few bruises but nothing major."

Bodhi smiles and begins backing down the stairs, letting my hand drop to my side. "Don't need to worry about me, Ryn. I survived my interrogation training." 

I stop chuckling at that line the next morning, when Tomas leans over and tells me a second year, Sorrel, died during interrogation. In fact, it wipes the smile off all of our faces. And for the first time in weeks I wrap my arms around Tomas's shoulders and draw him into a hug. 

"Thank you for protecting us."

"You're my Squad," he replies, hugging me back. 

Chapter Text

"So, did you know Nolon was..."

"Developing a god complex and using his Mending abilities to save the life of a fucking arsehole who killed more people on the mats than died in the War Games last year?" I ask, staring at the back of the blonde head of Jack fucking Barlowe. "No, Cohen, I had no idea." 

"Maybe this is why you're still so bad at Mending consciously," Mirabel whispers on my other side. "Because Nolon's been holding back during lessons. Can you imagine having the ability to resurrect someone from the dead?"

"He wasn't dead," I say, still staring at Barlowe. "We're Menders. We can't bring back what's lost."

"Yeah, you know what happened to Naolin when he tried to bring back Sorrengail," Cohen says. 

Brisa hums. "Yeah, and look how that turned out." 

Shit. Yes. Look at how that turned out. "Tân? Any plans to fly to Aretia anytime soon?" 

"No. Something has happened. Chradh must stay in Samara." 

"What's happened?" 

She growls. "He will not tell me." 

"Are you sure you're not mated yet?" I ask. 

Tan snaps her teeth and I shrink into my seat. 

Jack waves at our squad and a shiver wracks through my body. The fear I have of Jack Barlowe runs deep. I don't know him. He doesn't know me. I'm sure I'm not on his kill list at all. But he was a fucking maniac last year. We had men at the pits like him, and I do not want to be on his list. And who knows what kind of pain he'll inflict now that Varrish is at Basgiath as well. What will he get away with this time? At least he seems to have his eyes set on Sorrengail still. 

My gaze is drawn over my shoulder and I scan the room. Liam looks between Sorrengail and Jack. Bodhi stares at the back of Sorrengail's head, his brow furrowed as if he's trying to work something out. My gaze flows over all of the marked ones I know in this room. All of the leadership cadets. Everyone. Only the marked ones are looking at Sorrengail. 

Turning back to the front, I try to listen to Markham praise Nolon for his Mending skills. I try to add to the smattering of applause. I try to look anything other than annoyed. But something tightens around my chest. There's a new unpredictable person in here, and my cadets have only just survived into gauntlet training with a number of eight. There's only a month left until Threshing. 

I just have to keep them alive until they bond. And hope that Barlowe doesn't give the first years in his squad any ideas. 

That's a point. I lean forwards and stick my head between two of the first years in my squad. "Do we think Nolon will treat all of us this way?" I hiss loud enough for them all to hear, and a few cadets in front as well.

"Fuck no," all eight whisper back. They're facing forwards, but this confirms I have their full attention. 

"Do we get distracted?" I ask. 

"Fuck no." 

"Good. Eyes on the gauntlet goal, alright?" 

They nod or whisper 'yes' back, and I return to my seat, heart beating fast in my throat. 

"Questions?" Devera says, smiling like she hasn't just been part of a massive fucking rockslide.

I'm the only one who raises my hand. Well, my hand shoots up and I'm left mentally scrambling for a question. So, maybe I'm the only one stupid enough to be bringing attention to myself right now. 

"Ah, Cadet Zynd," Devera says, widening her stance. "Go ahead."

More than a few heads turn to look at me. 

Breathe. Calm. Speak clearly. "Just a couple of questions if that's ok?" I hear myself ask. 

A couple!? Fuck. Guess I'll find out what those will be at the same time everyone else does.

"Calm. Project your voice," Tân says encouragingly. "Find out what you need to protect your cadets." 

Devera nods encouragingly. I don't tend to ask questions at all, so this is big. 

Tingles rush through my body as anxiety seeps into every pore. "First thing, welcome back, Jack. I can't say many people missed you and the constant worry of neck snapping, but once your name's on the scroll we're not meant to think about you again, do blame Basgiath for that one." Even Jack laughs at this. Thank fuck. 

"First question, if, say, a friend of mine got badly injured and it took a year for Nolon to Mend them, would that person still get to graduate on time, because I noticed Barlowe has two stars when he didn't technically complete second year, and there's this physics test on Thursday..." 

Devera sends me a broad grin, and chuckles. There's a roar of laughter that makes me think everyone thinks I'm joking. So he's definitely a second year then. Great. 

I wait for the laughter to die down a little and Devera to nod.

"Second, should I be offended that Nolon cancelled half my Mending lessons so he could spend more time with Barlowe? I mean, should I start making more of an effort in the mornings, or am I not the only person who had no idea we were Mending like this now?" Clicking my tongue, I sit back in my chair. This time the laughter is louder, and Devera shakes her head with an even broader smile. 

"Barlowe will be rejoining as a second year," Devera says, "as he has bonded. Good spot. No, you cannot get out of your physics test on Thursday. Though, from what I've heard you're quite good. And no, you should not be offended. Most cadets did not know. I'm sure your classes with Nolon will continue after this." 

"Not that you need them eh, Zynd?" another Mender from First Wing calls. "You couldn't Mend a broken leg!" 

Flinging up my hands, I stare the First Winger down. "The fuck, Dalton? I literally Mended your arm last year." 

"That's why it still aches." 

"Maybe I only fully Mend people I like. Now come here, let's see if I can Mend a broken wrist,"  I say, playfully getting out of my chair and edging past my squad along the line towards First Wing. 

"My wrist isn't broken," Dalton replies with a smirk. 

"Yet," I say, standing on the back of a chair. Dalton's eyes widen.

Cohen grabs me round the waist and lifts me effortlessly into the air, passing me to Tomas, who pushes me into his seat and takes mine. 

"I wouldn't," Cohen calls to me over the laughter. "Don't want your neck getting too close to Barlowe's biceps." 

We quieten down when Markham raises a hand and begins to tell us about an attack. My gaze darts to the side of Liam's head. He's leaning forwards, listening to every word. 

I force myself to focus on Markham, in enough time to hear about an yet another attack at the border. At Samara. Fuck. I sit up, suddenly paying attention. 

"Tân?" 

"I must go, little one." I feel her agitation pulse through me.

"It's okay," I soothe. "Go. I'll be okay." 

"Thank you, little one," she says, her voice already breathless, her tone clipped, as if she's hiding her emotions from me. Though I feel an overwhelming rush of anxiety. 

"Cadet Sorrengail!" Markham shouts.

I whip my head round. Sorrengail ignores Markham. She's running for the door, her bag already over her shoulder. Liam sprints after her. Bodhi does as well. 

Fuck. She's going with Tairn to Sgaeyl and Xaden in Samara. She didn't leave her dragon to go off on his own. She's going with him. 

Should I have gone with Tân?

I should have gone with Tân this morning. 

The kitchen floors are spotless by the time I've finished scrubbing them, though my hands are broken and bleeding. Without Tân here to help me heal, I'm having to contend with what other people feel when they're forced to clean floors with a tiny brush until they're spotless. 

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I make my way into the empty dining hall. The small bowl of soup they left out for me has some kind of creature already eating from it.

Great.

Heading to the bathing room down the hall, I wash my hands, wincing as the soap oozes into my cuts and leaves stinging pain behind. 

I can't help feeling like a fucking coward. Tân needs to leave and instead of running off with her like Sorrengail, I let Tân go alone. If I'd gone with her, I'm sure right now I would feel just as powerful as Sorrengail, and not as fucking defenceless and weak as I do right now. 

I walk back to our little covert Second Wing common room slowly. My legs ache as I climb the stairs, but it's nothing I haven't felt before. Though, it makes me think of last night, when I took for granted the fucking stairs and how easy they were to climb. 

"How was punishment?" Cohen asks when I finally arrive. He doesn't look up from his paper. 

"Fine," I say, rubbing my ribs and letting out a long groan as I sit down. "I'm sure others have had it worse." 

The skin on my bruised and broken cheek aches, but there's nothing to do about that. I can still feel Varrish's hand on my face where he slapped me so hard I saw stars. It meant the rest of the beating went by quick enough. But, what else could I have expected from attending flight manoeuvres without my dragon?

Thank fuck Aura stepped in and put me on floor duty as her chain of command punishment. And thank fuck my first years weren't there to see it. Poor babies. 

"Liam was looking for you," Tomas says from the table, where he, Brisa and Mirabel are doing physics homework by the looks of the textbooks piled around them. I'll have to copy their work later. 

Sliding down onto my back, I cover my eyes with my forearm. There's nothing in here to distract me from the pain. "Why? What did I do now?" I groan. 

"Dunno, but Durran was with him," Cohen says distractedly. 

My eyes fly open and I stare at Cohen. "Why the fuck was Durran here?" 

"You're such an idiot, Coh," Mirabel says, piping up, her focus still taken by her work. "They heard about Varrish calling you out of manoeuvres. Said they wanted to check on you." 

"Oh." Well, better late than never, I guess. "I think I'm just going to go to bed," I wheeze, struggling to sit up on my own. In the end I have to roll off onto my knees and stand from there. 

I'm at the door before anyone speaks. "You alright?" Cohen calls. "You're limping."

Stopping in the doorway, I laugh. "Yeah, all good. Just spent a lot of time on my knees scrubbing the kitchen." 

I have a hand on my bedroom doorknob when I recognise the rumbles of talking through the door. My hand flies to my dagger at my side and I press my ear to the slight gap between the door and frame. 

"-up to her." 

My nose scrunches. Bodhi? I glance back at the common room door. How long has Bodhi been in my room? 

Just in case it's a trick and it's actually Varrish ready to have his third years murder me for insolence, I flick open the door and jab my dagger at where I know the person on the other side would be. 

"Whoa," Bodhi says, grabbing my wrist to deflect the blade. "Second time in one day. I'm starting to think- Shit." His smile falls and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest as he kicks the door shut. "Where the fuck was Aura?" 

There's something undeniably comforting about being held so tightly in his arms. He's taller than Liam and broader still, and I feel more safe and secure than I have since Liam's bed last night. Sighing, I sink into Bodhi's embrace and fist the fabric at the back of his vest. 

"Ryn," Bodhi says, "where was Aura? Why didn't she stop this?" 

All I manage is a mumble at first. Bodhi tilts my chin up and I pout up at him. "She was there," I say. "She was there. Varrish... I reckon he was halfway done when she managed to convince him to let me clean the kitchen floors instead. Took me longer because I kept bleeding on the bits I'd already cleaned."

Letting out a breath of a laugh, I try to step back, but he adjusts his grip to my arse and thigh, lifting me against him. 

A moment later I'm lying on my bed. That's when I notice Liam, stone faced and watching from the window.

"Hey," I whisper, thinking he must be angry at me for some reason. 

Liam blinks, his gaze moving swiftly over my body and face. 

"Drink this," Bodhi says, handing me a small vial of a thick, sour liquid which burns as I swallow it down. Instantly, the pain in my body begins to numb. 

"What was that?" I ask, handing back the vial. 

"Painkiller." Bodhi frowns at me. "You shouldn't drink things if you don't know what they are." 

"But you gave it to me. And I trust you. So thank you." I bite my lip and wince as my teeth catch on the cut. "I don't usually get given those. I've got used to the pain."  

Bodhi drops to his knees at the end of my bed and starts unstrapping my boots. Without saying a word, Liam walks over and starts on my vest.

I'm more than a little confused, but there's no dragon to tell me what to do and I'm too tired to do any of this myself, so I let them strip my clothes.

Holy shit. There's something about the way Bodhi undoes my leathers by flicking open the button that's oddly arousing. Which is confusing because the way Liam's slowly undoing my vest is also arousing. Which is even more confusing because the way Bodhi looks me dead in the eye and says, "Lift your hips, Ryn," is also oddly...

Fuck. 

Okay.

Breathe.

I lift my hips and Bodhi slides his hands under my leathers, tracing his fingers over the band of my underwear from front to back. His hands slide over my fabric-clad arse, under my leathers, fingertips tracing down my legs as he tugs them down.

Liam catches my eye and I blink as he slides his hands over my chest, to my shoulders. "That okay?" he asks. 

I don't trust myself to answer audibly, so I nod.

I've never in my wildest dreams been in this situation, and I worry- no, I wonder if I ever will be again. No. I worry I won't be. Wonder? Oh gods, I don't know. I don't know what to do, or what I did to make this happen. I like it. I really like it. But I wish I wasn't injured. Or maybe that's why it's happening. Oh gods. 

Bodhi leaves, and I think that'll be it and they'll leave me to it since I'm stripped down to my underwear. Liam sticks around so I think maybe he'll sleep here tonight, what with Sorrengail gone. I start to kick my covers to my ankles so I can crawl underneath.

"Not so fast," Liam says, lifting me and tucking a second pillow under my head. "Not done yet, beautiful." 

Bodhi returns a moment later, carrying a large bowl of hot water and a few cloths, and they begin to wipe away the blood from my face and hands. Then, Liam grabs his bag from by my desk and pulls out salve. And then... gods. The massage. 

I don't know what to do, so I rely on that stupid humour Bodhi told me off for last night.

"You know there are people who would pay good money to be taken care of like this." I shift uncomfortably when Bodhi starts to rub a bad bruise on my arm. "Though they'd pay extra to include a happy ending." 

Liam, who's still rubbing my left calf, finally breaks. His scowl transforms into a lopsided smile. Bodhi bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. 

"From who?" Liam asks with a cheeky lilt, sliding his hand up to my thigh. 

I cannot say I'm not enjoying this. I am enjoying every single second of this confusing, confusing situation.

Bodhi. Who knew.

Bodhi and Liam. Who knew.

They both look up at me, since I've taken a beat too long to answer. I go for the scandalous answer and draw one knee up. "Both of you obviously." 

"That can be arranged if you really fancied it," Bodhi mutters, gaze moving back to my arm. 

"Promises, promises," I sigh. "Little to the left," I whisper when Bodhi's fingers pause. He huffs and continues. "Perfect. Thank you."

"I think I like you unguarded," Liam says with a gorgeous smirk. "Unfortunately I prefer my ladies without shit tonnes of bruising."

"Even during impromptu 'make her feel good' threesomes?" 

Liam chokes. "Especially then." 

Sliding my leg down, I smile when I notice the blush creeping onto Liam's face. "Shame." 

Bodhi chuckles. "Stop propositioning us and roll over." 

"Never took you for an arse man, Durran," I say with what I hope is a smirk. I've never been too good at smirks. When I do them in the mirror, I just look pained. 

Bodhi growls and meets my gaze. "Roll. Over." 

"Or what?" I ask, inclining my head. 

Liam sucks in a breath and leans over me, gently guiding me to roll. I hear two groans. Not good groans. 

"Fuck, Ryn," Bodhi says. 

Arching my back, I try for another laugh. "I really didn't take you for an arse man."

"You're killing me, Fenryn," Liam mutters. "But your back..." His hand glides over my spine, coming to rest over my underwear.

"S'ok," I say, giving in to the seriousness of the situation, "I don't look at my own back." 

"Gods I wish we could kill him," Bodhi says. 

I startle a little but manage to hide it when Bodhi undoes my bra and places a kiss to probably the only part of my back that doesn't hurt. Liam, I would have expected. Not Bodhi. 

"When will Tân be back?" Liam asks, tracing his fingers over the pattern of bruises on my lower back and upper thighs. 

"I don't know," I whisper, closing my eyes and finally giving in to the rest I've been fighting.

I doze as they rub salve into my injuries, and try to ease the tense muscles under my bruised skin. They dress me, and I listen, half asleep, as they argue over who should sleep on the floor nearest the bed, and who should, in Liam's words, "Actually protect," me by sleeping by the door. 

Their low tones are annoying after a while so I hold out my arms and say, "Come here. Just sleep with me." 

They both turn, arms crossed, eyebrows drawn together. They glance at each other. It's Liam who asks, "Who do mean?" 

"Both of you," I say, rolling onto my side. "See, space here." I pat in front of me. "Space here." I pat behind. 

Neither of them move. 

"Either you get in here, or you leave," I snap. 

They look at each other, then begin to strip. By the time Liam lies in front of me and Bodhi behind, both pressed against me thanks to my smaller bed, they're only in their underwear. Emboldened by the entire situation, hours of touching, and my having slept with Liam a few times before, I hook my leg over his hip, and arch my back until they both shift closer, pinning me between them. 

"Night, Bodhi," I say, yawning. 

"Night Ryn," Bodhi replies, his words vibrating through his chest, into my back. 

I don't know why... Madness, maybe... Maybe the fact none of this really feels... real, but I look over my shoulder, tilt my chin, and gently press my lips against Bodhi's.

An exhale of air is my warning before his lips firm and his tongue darts out, swiping against my bottom lip. His hand moves from my hip to my throat. My own tongue meets his and he growls low and deep. 

I never thought I would kiss Bodhi first. I always imagined it would be Liam. But here I am, kissing Bodhi, terrified out of my mind that Liam will either storm off, or refuse to ever kiss me. 

But there's a slight hope that maybe, just maybe...

Yes. Liam's fingers firm around my chin, and he tugs my face away from Bodhi's lips. Bodhi grumbles, but presses open mouthed kisses to my shoulder and neck. 

"Night Fenryn," Liam whispers.

"Night Liam," I gasp.

Liam's lips find mine and Bodhi's hands massage my hips while I kiss his friend. At some point, Bodhi pulls me back and kisses me like he's a dying man and I'm his last breath. Then it's Liam's turn again.  

"FENRYN!" 

Gasping, I sit up, clasping a hand to my head. The sun shines bright through the window. I look around and balk. My bed is empty apart from me.

Frowning, I assess my room. My clothes are neatly folded on my chair, just like I would leave them. I look down. I'm wearing my usual nightdress. There's nothing new around or on my desk. 

There's another bang at my door. I stand and groan at the stiffness in my limbs, only to get to my door and find it locked from the inside. 

"Fenryn?" Cohen calls.

"I'm up!" I shout back, not wanting to open the door. 

"Oh shit! Okay, sorry, thought you were dead," Cohen calls through. "Sorry, Fen, I didn't realise how bad it was last night. Do you need anything?"

"Er, no."

"Okay. Well, Aura said you don't have to go to formation today. Rest up, yeah?"  

"Er... yeah, thanks."

I stumble back to my bed. "What the fuck?" I whisper, falling back into my sheets. I draw my covers back up to my chin and place my fingers against my lips. 

Either I fell asleep kissing one of them and they snuck out while I was gone, or I've just had the most arousing, confusing, and feverish dream of my entire life so far. 

Groaning, I roll over and bury my face in my pillow. Aura may have said I can miss formation, but that doesn't mean I can miss class. Which means I have... I check my clock. Two hours. I have two hours to get it together and stop imagining Liam and Bodhi taking care of me. 

Chapter Text

Liam - last night 

"What do we do?" I ask, frowning down at Fenryn. 

A minute ago my tongue was in her mouth, and now she's asleep. It's like the reality of the situation slapped me in the face when it was just me and Bodhi awake. 

Bodhi groans and checks the time. "Probably retreat. Varrish had her beaten on a mat because he saw me with my arm around her shoulders. Don't think he'll take lightly to two of us being found in her bed." He takes a moment to take in her body. "Gods I wish I could stay though." 

"Same. I've never woken up with her, you know that? She always leaves." Sitting up, I slide my hand down Fenryn's thigh. "I meant about this though." 

Bodhi grins. "Nothing to do. She's made her choice and I'm all for it." Standing, he stretches and I have to look away from his obvious arousal, even though I'm in the same position. "If you've got any issues, work them out." 

My gaze snaps to his. "Issues?" 

"With sharing." 

My eyes widen a touch and I look down at Fenryn. Her hair's wild, from where Bodhi had the genius idea to remove it from the shackles of the bun she usually wears. Gods, she looks so cute sleeping like that. And sexy. I lightly stroke her cheek and she slaps my hand away in her sleep. Bodhi chuckles, his eyes soft as he takes her in. 

"You think she wants... to share?" I ask. 

"Right now? Yes. Talking about threesomes followed by ordering us into her bed and kissing us like that? She's opened the door and her wards are letting the two of us in. I'm not going to say no. Are you?" 

Emboldened, I ask, "What if I want her to myself?" 

Bodhi shrugs. "Join the club. It fucking sucks knowing she's in your bed every night and not mine, but guess what? It's her decision. I can put my jealousy aside if it means I get some time with her." 

"Why?" 

Bodhi scoffs. "Because. Between the revolution and protecting my cousin's girlfriend I have about enough time for my own girlfriend as you do. Which is not much fucking time. Ryn's smart. Between the two of us she might actually get the love and time she deserves." 

Heart racing, I blink slowly. "I didn't think about it like that." 

"Look. I'm not taking her away from you. You're not taking her away from me. We're just grabbing our moments with her when we can. Let her lead." 

I nod. "Just don't punch me in the face again, yeah?" 

Bodhi growls. "Either of us shirks our duty to protect her and we get what's coming to us." 

With a sigh, I nod and shake Bodhi's hand.

“Wait. We don't have to…” I gesture between us. "... do we?" 

Bodhi’s eyebrows twitch together and he steps closer. “What are you talking about? Of course we do.” 

He grips my shoulder and pulls me in. I don't know what to do. My mind reels. Do I want this if it means I get to be with Fenryn?

Bodhi, lips almost at mine, asks, "Are you actually..."

"I-" I look over at Fenryn. "Shit, I don't think I can."

Bodhi bursts out laughing. My hand slaps his shoulder, then his face. He claps a hand to his mouth and looks over at Fenryn, who's mercifully still asleep. She needs all the rest she can get after what happened. 

Fuck Varrish. 

“No, Liam, we don't," Bodhi says when he can finally breathe. "I don't fancy you like that."

“Dick.” My swipe at his head misses. He's lucky I don't have my daggers. 

"We'll talk about threesomes and shit when we get to it," he says, pulling on his leathers. 

"Do you think we'll get to that?" I ask, gathering my clothes.

"I hope so." He pauses to tug on his vest. "She's not coming to my bed, is she? Might be the only time I get to be with her."

Fuck, that's sad. An ache settles into my chest and I decide I'm going to have to tell Fenryn to go to his room, even though I want her to be in my bed every night.

"I’m going to put up some wards,” he says, beginning to cast towards the door. “She'll be the only one who can let anyone in.” 

“What about us?” I ask, gently moving a curl from Fenryn's forehead.

Bodhi was right. That salve he gave me really helped take the pain out of her bruises, and massaging the edges has helped with circulation - she already looks less peaky. 

“What about us?” Bodhi raises a brow. “Her safety, Liam. Not our pleasure. She'll come to us if she wants us.”

“Have you done this before?” I ask. “You seem to know what to do.”

“No,” he chuckles. “Just a fucking good Section Lead. I wish I could just fight you for her, but she looks at you like I look at her so I'm just going to take every crumb she gives me and not force her into your arms. Right. Get dressed, then we'll leave.”

“She doesn't,” I say, when we're in the stairwell. “I've seen the way you look at her. She doesn't look at me like that.”

I've never paid attention before to the way Bodhi looks at Fenryn. I've been too busy looking at her myself. But tonight...

The way he held her. The way he spoke to her. The way he jumped at the chance to be near her. The way he put any jealousy of me to the side...

Fuck, even the look of sheer pride on his face when she kissed him first... I feel like I need to step aside. Only, I can't. I can't do the honourable thing here. I have to go explore this. I know I'll regret it if I let her go.

Bodhi smiles. “Like I said, it's her decision.” 

"What happens if she wakes up and thinks it was all a dream?" I mutter, when we reach my level. I don't expect Bodhi to reply, but he does.

He turns to me with a wide grin and says, "Well, I'll just have to remind her, won't I?" 

"So will I," I sigh. 

Bodhi scoffs. "Not the first time you've kissed her, Liam. Won't be the last." 

"No secrets?" I ask. "Full disclosure?" 

Bodhi's smile falls away and his jaw tenses, but he nods anyway. 

"I never had the pleasure of kissing her before. And she chose me to go second. I think you're higher up her list than you think." 

I leave Bodhi in the stairwell where he runs a hand through his hair, and head to my bed.

Chapter Text

I lie in Liam's bed wearing a camisole and shorts, curls tumbling over my shoulders and down my back, reading a book on physics and trying not to stab myself in the eyes from the boring nature of the words. 

Liam sits at his desk finishing off some sewing for Sawyer and Ridoc. Once that's done, he turns to his newest carving. 

We've found that neither of us enjoys early nights, so since Sorrengail is in Samara checking on Riorson who's been injured in an attack, we're hunkered down for an evening of studying. I've brought my remaining snacks, and Liam's promised to help me with my homework. Yawning, I wriggle my hips and shift to a better position on my front. I hope Liam will look - I'm wearing my shortest night shorts for a reason. 

After my incredible dream last night, I feel like I need to explore this more. Gods, both Bodhi and Liam would be incredible, but completely unobtainable and more than a little selfish, so I need to know if Liam feels the way I do. Otherwise, maybe Bodhi might... Argh. I need to stop! I shift again and stretch. 

My muscles and bruises aren't too bad. After Battle Brief this morning, Bodhi cornered me in the stairwell. 

"Ryn. You're still limping," he said, "go to the Healers Quadrant and make Nolon Mend you." 

I rolled my eyes. Why did I roll my eyes. "You can't tell me what to do." 

His eyebrows twitched together and his gaze darted over my face. "Is that right?" 

"Yes."

"Why not?" 

"What?" 

"Why won't you listen to me?" 

"Because I'm not yours to order around."

Burying my face in the covers, I cringe at the memory. The way he stepped back, turned and left... Gods. I just wanted to run after him and apologise. But I knew if I did I'd end up trying to kiss him and ruin everything. Instead, I did what he said and went to be Mended. Nolon used it as a 'learning experience' after I congratulated him enough on his 'incredible' skills Mending Barlowe. 

Liam's book closes with a snap, drawing me out of the memory. Standing, he turns to me and I can't even pretend I'm reading anymore. His bare chest is so toned, it takes my breath away. I can't believe it took until tonight for him to tell me he usually chills in his room topless. Thank the gods.

I roll onto my side and trace the pattern of his relic with my eyes. It runs all the way from his wrist to his shoulder and he's let me touch it again - to make up for the disastrous time in the shadows back before we started second year. 

I can't even think about that now - if I do, I'll think of Bodhi and the feel of driving my arse into his hips just a few weeks ago. And I need to focus on Liam right now. It's not like I can have them both. 

Smiling, Liam saunters over to his bed and lies down beside me, placing one hand on the back of his neck and the other one palm up onto the bed beside me.

I prop myself on my elbow and slide my fingers onto his palm, tracing patterns. How I convinced him this was something that eased my worries, I'll never know, but I'll also never tell him the truth - that touching him is the most amazing feeling in the world.

Instead, I tell him a different truth. I've never felt comfortable telling someone about my history, but with Liam it's easy. I don't feel like he judges or pities me, and if I share something, he does as well. 

“Plath and I have different surnames because I can't remember mine,” I say, keeping my gaze locked to his hand. “At the pits, there were these religious nuts who came round and they'd give us food if we said we'd sinned. So when I saw the white scribes robes on Conscription Day and they asked my name, I just said, ‘Fenryn Sinned,’ and when I repeated it for the guy on the Riders Quadrant table, he spelt it wrong and sent me in. So I kept the name.” 

Liam's hand closes around mine. He brings my knuckles to my lips and kisses each one, then the back of my hand. He’s said before that kissing the back of the hand is how you greet a lady. The knuckle kisses are just for him. My heart races as he completes his circuit by pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist. He holds my hand to his collarbone and looks up at me. His blue eyes are dark and stormy. 

“When I was seven, my dad said I couldn't have seconds of pudding anymore because I would start sword-fighting training when I was eight and he didn't want me to get fat.” 

My gaze flicks to his. “That, Liam Mairi, is not at all comparable!” It does make me laugh though. Grabbing a pillow, I straddle his stomach and hit him over and over again while he roars with laughter.

“Sorry,” he says, smiling. His hands trace patterns on my thighs and calves. 

I throw the pillow away and place my hands on his chest. I shrug. “Can't say I'm complaining.” 

His smile transforms into another one I love - lopsided and broad. He licks his lips and starts to sit up. My smile falters as my thighs slide down from his stomach. 

“I've been wondering,” he says, voice low and deep.

Hands move to my hips. His touch isn't as firm as Bodhi's, but still secure. Just different. Shit. Stop thinking about Bodhi as well!

“Would you prefer me to call you Ryn?" he asks. "Like Bodhi does?” 

No that's a Bodhi thing! I shake my head. “I like when you say my name.” 

“You do?” 

I nod. “Yeah. I do. But if you wanted to give me a nickname, you could call me…” I tap my chin and look up. “Mine?” 

Liam’s arms slip around my waist and he pulls me flush against him. “Don't tempt me.” 

His nose rubs against mine and I slip my hands behind his head, running my fingers through his soft hair. I don't know if I should notice his hardness currently settled between my legs, so I don't say anything. I just make a note to tell Tân her advice worked. 

We sit like this for a while, whispering to each other. It's not that I don't want to take the next step, so much as I've never felt so close to someone without feeling like they want something from me. I don't want to lose this by wanting more. 

Liam's door swings open. I freeze, and for a split second there's silence. Then, a high-pitched scream, and the door shuts. Liam springs up and I slide from his lap all in one movement. 

“Girlfriend?” I ask, the blood in my veins freezing. 

Doors sound in the hall outside. Liam laughs bitterly as he pulls on his trousers. “Bodhi's right, I barely have time for you, you think there's someone else?” 

At the mention of Bodhi, warmth springs to my cheeks and I grab my cloak. “Who then?” 

“Ridoc,” he replies, pulling on his shirt. 

“That was Ridoc!? It was pretty high pitched.” 

“He’s a dick, and I don't think he's ever seen me with…” His cheeks redden. “You okay?” he asks me, glancing at my cloak. 

I nod. 

“Don't leave. Stay there. Just give me a second.” 

“Yeah, er- okay.”

He opens the door and sticks his head out. What I hear next is a completely new side to Liam. Not only does his voice turn stern and sexily deep, but he curses Ridoc out, then tells Sawyer to do some interesting things that I'm not sure are physically possible. He slams his door and starts to cast, adding to his wards. 

“Don't worry, won't happen again,” he says, turning to me. “Shit.” He glances at the door then back at me. “I don't normally have a temper. I promise you, I won't shout at you like that.” 

“I thought I had a dirty mouth,” I say, lowering my hands from my mouth to show my shocked smile. 

Liam opens and closes his mouth. His throat bobs. “I don't think I've had the pleasure of knowing how dirty your mouth is.” 

Oh my gods. What should I do? Drop to my knees now? No. His friends are outside. Play it cool. “Well, I'm not going to show you what I can do with my mouth while your friends are right outside the door.” 

Liam clears his throat. “I guess that's fair. How about a kiss instead?” 

“Just a kiss.” 

“Just a kiss,” he replies, gaze fixed on my lips. 

“I'm serious, Liam.” 

“So am I.” His gaze meets mine. “We agreed, we're doing this at your pace, Zynd.” 

There's something erotic now, knowing he knows what my surname means, and what we’re talking about. 

“What if I don't know my pace yet? What if it's too slow. Or too fast?” I ask nervously.

He takes a step towards me, then another, and another, until he's right in front of me and one hand is buried in my hair and his other hand firms around my hip. 

He rubs his nose against mine. “Your pace, Fenryn. Just as long as it's equal."  

Equal? I don't have time to ponder what that means.

Achingly slow, his lips press against mine. I deepen the kiss almost immediately, moaning as he guides me down to the bed and lies over me. 

Gods, why haven't I kissed him before? I tug at the hem of his shirt and he wrenches it over his head, allowing my fingers access to his chest. 

“Just so you know,” he groans a few minutes later, as he kisses my neck and I trace my fingernails down his back, gasping at the overwhelming lust filling every cell of my body, “keep making those noises and I might have to forget about what I just said about pacing.” 

I learn something new about myself in the moments after he says that - I learn that I thoroughly enjoy kissing Liam while we're laughing. 

Later, just before curfew, I leave Liam's room (this time with his knowledge), and tip toe towards the stairs. I'm halfway down the stairwell when I bump into Bodhi, who's shaking slightly, his teeth chattering loudly. 

"Gods, what's wrong with you?" I ask. 

Bodhi doesn't answer. He just walks straight past me. 

"Bodhi?" Following him, I don't stop whispering his name until we reach the third floor.

He turns with a glare on his face. "Ryn, I'm tired. Just tell me what you want." 

"To make sure you're okay." 

"There's only one way to make sure I'm okay." 

"Tell me and I'll do it." 

"Spend the night with me." 

I gape. "You can't be serious." 

His jaw tenses. "Tell me why not." 

"Tell me why you think I would." Oh my gods I totally would. Like, right now. Right... Now. 

His nostrils flare and he steps down until he's one stair tread below me, and we're the same height. "I was wrong to order you around, Ryn. I admit it. I'm sorry. I thought that was what you liked. Liam, gentle one. Me the hard one. But gods, Ryn, please don't punish me like this again." 

His gaze fixes on my lips. "Knowing what you taste like... I'm not a jealous man, Ryn, but for you I would do anything. I'm sharing you with Liam, aren't I? Because you want us both, don't you? Please say it's still what you want." His gaze meets mine.

"Both of you?" I whisper. 

Bodhi's brows rise. "That's why you kissed us both last night. Liam agreed we'd share your time." 

My hands fly to my mouth. "That actually happened?" 

He stares. "You don't remember?" 

"I thought it was a fever dream!" I whisper urgently, grabbing fistfuls of his vest. "You agreed to share?" 

"Yes." He blinks and tries to step back but I hold him fast. "It's up to you."

"Equal," I whisper, finally realising what Liam was saying. "You're both happy with equal."

"Yes," he replies in a quiet, low voice, his eyes darkening with every second. "Whatever you want, Ryn. For as long as you want it." 

Rising to my toes, I kiss him urgently, barely registering the pain of the wall against my bare and still half bruised back as he pushes me roughly against it. 

Less than a minute in, Bodhi says something I don't catch. He grabs behind my knees and draws them to his hips, walking me up the rest of the stairs. I stop thinking for a while until he stops and holds me up with one hand. 

"What are you doing?" I whisper into his ear, drawing an annoyed groan. 

"My fucking door sticks." He kicks out and carries me into his bedroom.

I don't have a chance to look around or even gauge if his bed is bigger than Liam's. The door slams and I'm already on my back, with a shirtless Bodhi over me, my hands pinned by his. I recognise the move as the one he played on the mat when we fought, and I moan.

"Fuck, Ryn, tell me what I did to get that noise," he whispers between hot, open mouthed kisses on my neck. "I need to hear it again." 

I make the noise again and he stills, then rises over me. "That's just... that's just your happy noise?" 

I don't know what to say, so I shrug. "I don't know. It just came out." 

"Fuck me, you're so fucking hot." His lips cover mine again and I stop thinking for a while.

"Wait," I pant, pushing his shoulder. "Just kissing." 

"Fuck. You sure?" 

"Yes." 

"Okay, just kissing, princess." 

"No." My word is so firm, I almost shock myself. 

Chuckling, he props himself on his elbow. "Mine?" 

Pouting, I throw my arms and legs around, punching the bed. "No. I stupidly thought you weren't interested and gave that one to Liam earlier." 

"You thought I wasn't interested?" he chokes. 

"Bodhi," I whine. "To be fair, you did both leave, my door was locked, and I did think I'd just had the best sex dream of my life." 

Burying his face in my neck, he laughs. "If those are your sex dreams, I have so much to teach you." 

"You really do," I whisper, trying to play it off, but the truth in my words is too strong for me. 

"Hey, where'd you go?" he asks, kissing me lightly. 

Go? Oh. It's like when he noticed me burying my feelings. He knows. He always knows. "Nowhere. I'm right here."

He hums and plays with my fingers. He knows I'm lying, but he said he can never tell...

"You haven't chosen what to call me yet," I say, trying to shift the conversation. "Though, I'm very, very partial to Ryn." 

His face goes back to my neck. His weight over me is so relaxing, not like an opponent on the mat - the pressure is everything and more. Comforting, relaxing... Safe. 

"Bane of my fucking existence?" he mumbles against my skin. 

This makes me laugh. "Since when?" 

"Since always." He takes a deep breath. "Since making me forge your non existent papers when you came up to me all freaked out and told me your fake name and begged me to let you into the Riders Quadrant, to yesterday, trying to pick a fight with someone sitting right next to Jack fucking Barlowe."

He goes back to kissing my neck, seemingly blissfully unaware of the fact I'm staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to control my breathing. It was him. Bodhi. 

Luckily digging my fingertips into his back and lightly tracing my fingernails over his skin seems to be the right move to get him to kiss me so I can stop thinking about the fact that he saved my life half an hour before Liam cut lines into my shoes so I could cross the parapet.

How did I not remember!? 

"Definitely just a kiss?" he asks, rolling his hips into mine. 

Gasping, I arch my back and let him grind against me. "I'm going to sound like the worst person ever, but yeah, just kissing, Durran."

"Fuck. Durran. You think I've been bad, baby?" he asks against my lips. 

My eyes fly open. "Yes. That."

"Yeah?" he asks, searching my face. 

"Yes. Gods. Yes. Just like that, with that sexy growl." 

"I growl?" he laughs. 

"Yes, Bodhi, you growl." Frowning, I rub my hands over his broad chest. "Why were you so cold earlier?" 

"Because I didn't have you to warm me up," he jokes. 

"Bodhi, I'm serious." 

He rolls onto his back and sighs. "I gave Violet my flight jacket yesterday, but had to do something with Cuir. I have no idea how you fly with nothing to protect you. Especially over the clouds." 

What? He gave his jacket to Sorrengail? "I run hot," I say in a clipped tone, climbing out of his bed and walking straight to the door.

"Hey," he says, grabbing me before I can leave, turning me in his arms.

I look at his chest instead of into his eyes in case my traitorous, lust filled body melts into him and lets him take me back to bed.

"Ryn, what's wrong?" he asks, ducking to try and catch my eye. I turn my face. 

"I don't know. I- I feel... I feel angry. And there's this twisting in my belly, and I kind of want to punch you," I admit. 

His hands flex around my waist. "Why?" 

"Because you gave Sorrengail your jacket," I mumble, crossing my arms.  

Bodhi lets out a boom of laughter that makes the twisting in my belly worsen. I don't help him as he carries me back to bed but even with my dead weight, he manages to make the move smooth and doesn't say anything about how heavy I must be.

"You're jealous?" he asks, wrapping his arms around me so I can't leave again. "Of Sorrengail?" 

I'm jealous. Yes. I'm jealous. That's what this is. Shit.

"I guess..." Frowning, I use the same voice I use with the cadets and say, "If you do that again, I won't touch you for a week."

He stops laughing. "She would have frozen. I didn't think."

"Well, think next time. You two spend most of your time with her, protecting her. I want something for myself."

"Not all our time." 

"Varrish beat me to a pulp and you only knew after the event because you were too busy worrying about Sorrengail flying to Xaden, wearing your flight jacket," I say through clenched teeth. "I can only spend time with Liam when Sorrengail decides to sleep, or study in the library. You, I only see during training or when we meet each other in dark places. So yes, you spend all your time with Sorrengail and I get the crumbs of both of you. Fuck, Bodhi." 

He blinks. I worry for a moment that I've gone too far and roll in his tight embrace, so my arse is pressed into his crotch and I don't have to look at his face.

"Ryn." 

"Don't." 

Tân finally returns and her happy voice fills my mind. "Chradh is alive and well. I have confirmed he has all of his faculties. Put the Section Leader in his place." 

"Shit, you're actually jealous," Bodhi says behind me. "Ryn." 

"How's Riorson?" I ask Tân, ignoring Bodhi. 

"Sorrengail is on her way. She will be back by the afternoon. And Riorson is alive and well." 

Wincing, I begin channelling her magic to get rid of my bruising. 

"Tân's coming?" Bodhi whispers, smattering light kisses across my upper back. He draws my strap over my shoulder and presses his lips to my shoulder. 

"She says she'll eat you if you do that again," I say, sinking into his pillow. He has really, really nice sheets. They're black, like the whole riders quadrant, but they're so fucking soft.

Bodhi chuckles a moment later. "Cuir says she didn't." 

"Tân!" I yell through our bond. 

Her deep laughter fills my ears. 

"Traitor." 

"You have been busy in my absence, little one. I am proud. Now, I will see you in the morning." 

"Ryn," Bodhi whispers, moving my hair away from my face. "I'm sorry." 

"Riorson's fine," I mumble, refusing to look at him still, "Sorrengail's on her way. I'm going to sleep." 

He starts to say something and rise, but I pull his covers over me and bring them up to my nose. "Wake me at five. I need to get back before anyone sees me." 

He shifts, pulling me flush against him. "You're staying? Ryn? You're staying?" 

"Yeah," I huff, "I have to confirm Sorrengail won't turn up to give you back your jacket." 

I fall asleep with his deep chuckles vibrating from his chest into my back. 

Chapter Text

Tucked into Bodhi's side, I watch the sun begin to rise out his window. He woke me at four with a kiss that almost made me give myself to him. Then, I woke properly and disappointed us both. 

His room is bigger than Liam's, and I guess that's a perk of surviving to third year and becoming a Section Leader. His bed, adorned with those black Basgiath sheets that are so unusually soft, is overly large. I reckon Liam, Bodhi and I could fit into it and still have space to roll over if needed.

Closing my eyes, I try to rid myself of the thought. 

When I asked why the end of the bed was facing the door and not the window, Bodhi said he likes to wake up and see his enemies if they attack, rather than having to turn his head. I rolled my eyes and earned myself another kiss. 

The desk, he's moved as well, rather than being under the window, it's facing the room. The only thing he hasn't changed is the armoire, which he's left in the corner. 

"Do you get jealous of Liam?" Bodhi asks me, playing with my fingers.

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"Don't know. I guess I've seen them together for a full year now. If he gave Sorrengail his jacket, I'd be fine. If you do it again, I'll make you pay," I say, narrowing my eyes playfully. 

"I might just let her keep it. I enjoy being in your bad books." 

"Don't joke." Running my tongue from the base of his throat up to his earlobe does the trick and he groans.

There's something so... different about being with Bodhi. It's chilled, I don't feel so much pressure to be the perfect person. Not that Liam pressures me, but I feel like I've built him up too much in my mind at this point and I worry he'll tire of me. 

Bodhi... He's so strong, so accomplished, so powerful, yet he lets me talk back to him and rile him up, while still managing to take care of me. It makes me rethink all the times he's been there and I've been too busy noticing other people's reactions. Other people being Liam. 

And I feel like I can tease Bodhi without worrying he won't think I'm good enough for him. I know it's all my own insecurities, but I still worry with Liam. I'm sure Bodhi would hate it if I told him, but it feels like he's a friend, and I'm allowed to kiss and explore him. But... More than that. 

It's all so confusing. So, so confusing. 

Sucking Bodhi's earlobe between my teeth, I release it by scraping down. This earns me a different kind of groan, and his feet and legs shift as his fingers dig into my hips. 

"Say sorry, Durran," I say in as sexy a voice as I can muster, hoping it'll make him groan like that again.

"Fuck, Ryn. Do that again and I will."

Grinning, I do. 

I'm rewarded with another leg shifting groan from him. Yes. Gods, I need to do that again. 

"I'm sorry, baby." 

"Good boy," I whisper playfully into his ear. 

A moment later I'm pinned underneath him. Try as I might, I can't get free. Fuck. He's been toying with me on the mat. Even now, I don't think he's using his full strength on me, but I know if I resisted he'd get off me immediately. Ugh, he's so sexy. I don't have time to dwell on this as he shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

"See, I don't know if you remember, but you said that to Graycastle, then strutted your fucking magnificent arse over to the mats with a fucking sword over your shoulder, before living out one of my fantasies without me."

"Your fantasy is ten minutes of sword training followed by me pushing you away because you're sweaty?" I laugh. He lets me slide a hand from his so I can run it through his curls and down his back. 

"Something like that," he mumbles, watching his finger trace down my cheek. He sighs. "So if you call me that again, you'd better be prepared to open your legs for me so I can show you just how good I am." 

My eyes roll and my lids flutter closed at the promise in his words. "Fuck. What if I want you to tell me how good I am?"

His answer is a series of toe curling kisses. Propped on one arm, he begins to follow his free hand with his lips - a light touch followed by a lick or a kiss. He's at the swell of my chest when I don't think I can take more or I might just stop thinking and lose the one thing I've held onto no matter what.

And that scares the shit out of me, just like when I feel this way with Liam. I'm just not ready for that yet. I don't know when I'll be ready. Shit. Men like Liam and Bodhi aren't content to wait, are they? Maybe I should just let it happen and... 

Bodhi's hand inches further down and I gasp. No. No, I can't. What if it hurts? Clearing my throat, I tug at his curls. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, rising above me. 

"Nothing, I'm just not ready for that yet." 

"I just want to taste you."

"That's the problem," I moan, shifting my hips. "I want to. I really want to." I do. Fuck. I really, really do want him. Right now. But I have to think about it. I have to. "I'm just not ready. With either of you. It's a me thing. I can't explain it." I cover my face with my hands. "Gods. This is ridiculous. Maybe I need some time to figure it out before we all go too far and I end up disappointing you both."

Bodhi tugs my hands from my face. "Maybe." He kisses me deeply. "But remember what we said. Liam and I agreed to let you lead. We're not going to talk about what we did or do with you. That's private. If you feel like you want to let him in, go for it. I'll wait as long as you need." 

Well that didn't help anything, I think. In fact, it makes me think of the shadows, and accidentally backing into him. 

I push at his chest until he starts to roll, and I can move from his arms. Ignoring the twitch of his eyebrows and the way he retreats with downcast eyes, I smile and make myself comfortable on my front, pull up the fabric of my shorts until half my arse is exposed, and arch my back. 

At first he doesn't approach, but guiding his hand to me does the trick.

"I just know you're an arse man," I say. 

"Fuck, Ryn," he groans.

I gasp and jump when he bites my exposed skin, but he's pressed up against me within seconds. Kneading my arse with one hand, he holds my hands above my head with the other, and licks up and down my neck. 

I'm still too inexperienced to know if this is even sexy for him or if he's just pretending for my sake, but it feels fucking fantastic. He doesn't complain, so I hope he'll let me come back into his bed again sometime. Because gods. 

Like, gods. 

I wriggle and he pins me more securely, rolling his hips against me. 

"Maybe I'm overthinking it," I say, "Gayl said once it doesn't count if you only put it in a little bit." Moaning, I shift back onto his hardness. Where the fuck did that come from? What am I doing? 

Bodhi chuckles, low and deep and I moan again. "Did she now? Well unfortunately, Ryn, that's not how I see it." 

"How do you see it?" 

"Each inch inside of you would be a death sentence." 

My eyes fly open. "What does that mean?" I cry. 

Bodhi chuckles again. He slides his hand up to cup my breast and licks my neck again. Within seconds I'm gasping and can barely remember why I was annoyed at him.

"There would be no return for me, Ryn. Even now, I could walk away if you wanted me to. You let me in and" - He clucks his tongue - "I wouldn't be able to give it up. I'd want you every moment of every day, and I might just turn into the jealous man I've avoided being so far."

I push his hand down to my belly so I can think.  "You seemed pretty jealous last night. And the night before that."

Bodhi huffs a breath, then grumbles when his attempt to cup my breast again is denied. Instead, he allows his full weight to settle over me, and rests his head on the pillow beside me.

"Seeing you with Septon" - Fuck. He knows about my kisses with Septon!? - "barely affected me. Seeing Cohen kiss you annoyed me a little. Liam does nothing to me. No, that's a lie." He frowns. "Liam makes me a little competitive, but it's nothing I can't handle and I'm more than happy to share as long as you're happy. But thinking you're ignoring or rejecting me? That makes me feral. Can't take it. That's why I was angry. I wasn't jealous."

"I'm sorry." 

"You didn't know." 

"I do now." 

"Good." With a heavy sigh, he removes his weight from me and lies next to me. "Why don't you stay with Liam? Overnight?” 

“I have. I do. But he sleeps past five, and I have to leave before then."

"And last night? You didn't even make it to midnight." 

Warmth heats my cheeks. I've been worried Bodhi would be angry or upset if he knew where I'd come from, but he already knew. What he's saying really is the truth - he's down to share.

"He wasn't sure if Sorrengail would be back or not so I said I'd just go back to mine," I admit. 

Bodhi hums and pushes a curl away from my cheek. “You should tell him that. He thinks you don't want to stay and I think it's getting to him."

"Is that why you woke me so early?" I ask with a frown. "To get me to leave before he saw me?" 

"No. I want all the time I can get, Ryn." 

His words all night, all morning... They're so strong, so loaded. I scoff. “I'll only get either of you for a couple of hours every few days if I'm lucky. Less if things get worse. I'm not wasting a moment. Maybe combined I'll get half a boyfriend.” Yawning, I stretch, then still when I see the look on his face. “What?” Shit I said boyfriend. "I didn't mean boyfriend, because that's probably too strong," I say, trying to cover my tracks. 

He kisses me deeply. “It's still not enough, is it?" he whispers against my lips. 

“Not enough time for me to dwell on anything, Durran,” I say, rolling him onto his back so I can get up. “It's almost five, so I've got to go. Tân's back and Aura cancelled our squad's training today so I'll be with your wing for flight manoeuvres. Thank fuck, because Varrish said if Tân and I didn't join you, he'd feed me to Solas.” 

“He didn't.”

“He did. And he was serious.” Opening Bodhi's armoire, I pick out an off duty shirt. “Can I borrow this?”

“Sure.” He draws an arm behind his head. “The worst he's done to Violet for a dragon not attending manoeuvres is make her almost burn out.”

“Yeah, well, she has a scary dragon, is a Sorrengail, and is a lightning wielder. As much as Varrish wants to kill her, he can't do it on public ground, can he? Me? I'm a nobody with a surname I can't remember, who can't even Mend a broken arm properly.” 

“You're fucking exceptional, Ryn."

Pulling on his shirt, I smile as I do up the buttons. “Thank you, but I don't agree. Now, I'll see you at formation, Battle Brief, and manoeuvres,” I say walking on tiptoes to his side.

He accepts my kiss as I finish the final button of his shirt, which despite my height covers me more than my shorts. 

A moment later I'm back in bed, squealing and trying to convince him to one, let me keep all my clothes on, and two, let me go back to my room. 

Free flight is and always will be my favourite part of the week. Every Friday after flight manoeuvres, Aura allows us fifteen minutes of freedom. So even though I'm with another wing today as my squad aren't flying, Aura made sure I get my time.  Most people fly their dragons around, but Tân and me? 

The wind whistles past us as Tân dives for the ground, her wings held tight against her sides. 

"Stop it!" I squeal through our bond, trying not to laugh as she banks slightly and I slide, almost falling off her back. 

Tân readjusts and flies up until we're above the clouds and can see the sun in its full glory. We stay there for a minute, flying up and taking in the beauty. Not many dragons bring their riders up this high regularly, but Tân has me, and I run hot, and heal... 

"Today, I would like to see outside Aretia. Your fall into the bushes," she says, giving me no warning before she twists and throws me off her back. 

My scream is real this time. I might feel powerful when I'm on her back, but off taking is another story. Without Tân's strength, I feel so incredibly vulnerable. 

It reminds me of my earliest memories - of falling through the air and landing on my back. The first time I fell from Tân, it unlocked a memory of climbing up a wall in Aretia as a child. My dad, with his booming laugh and wide smile, grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. 

Falling is still the one time I remember my past with open eyes. Tân enjoys the stories, and she says I need the practice of going through my memories, uncovering them one by one to learn the truth of what happened to my parents. She wants me to watch them and understand them from an adult's point of view, without the cloud of childhood marring the realities. Something about the lessons of the past helping us understand the current.

Whatever she's on about, it sucks and I'd rather she didn't do it, but at the same time I do understand why she wants me to keep going. To keep uncovering. Each time we do this, she sees more, as do I. And each time, we connect more and more. 

"Eyes," she says, before I reach the cloud line. 

Closing my eyes, I allow my body to relax and my mind to focus not on the fear, but on my memories. Tân won't let me die. She's safety. She's there. She needs this. 

"What do you see?" she asks. 

"My dad. Aretian stone behind his head." Tân can see what I see, but sometimes it's easier for me to speak and describe it to her.

Something moves above my dad's head, over his shoulder. I scramble to my feet and stare up as a dragon flies overhead, its dark green belly covering the sun from view for a split second as it passes. I focus all my effort on remembering this dragon and not the red flying beside it. For the first time my mind is so clear, I can see the dark green scales shimmer, the claws twitch, the swordtail swing.

I watch as the two dragons and their riders pass over the fields and head towards the main city. I must only be four, or almost five, as we left Tyrrendor around then. My father laughs once more and claps a large hand onto my shoulder.

"You act as though you do not see dragons fly to Aretia each day," he says at my face of wonder. 

"They get bigger each day," I reply, my voice squeaky and high pitched. "Why do they get bigger?" 

"Let me see your hands, little one," he says. His skin is lighter than mine, yet still tanned. He turns my hands over so he can inspect my palms. "Not too bad. Only a few scratches." 

"That's because I fell on my back," I complain. 

"But you got up," he says, turning me around. He pushes me back towards the wall and draws his hands behind his back. "Again. We'll make a climber out of you yet." 

"Papa?" I ask, taking one hand off when I'm halfway up, "will Auntie Ree really find it funny?"

"He will laugh until his belly aches," he replies, the skin at the sides of his blue eyes crinkling. "Now, straight to the top this time. No falling. Your mother will have-"

I don't hear the end of his sentence because Tân's claws close around my waist and she launches us up into the sky once more. That was more than I've ever remembered in one go. I smile sadly - Auntie Ree. I have yet to remember him, but I chuckle as my father did at the time. I just know I accidentally called him Auntie instead of Uncle once, and it stuck. That was my father's kind of humour. 

I'm sure Tân left me to the last possible moment by the roars I heard from Deigh and Cuir as I fell, and the way they snap their teeth so loudly I can hear it from where I am. 

"No more," I tell her, wiping tears from my eyes. At least I can just say I forgot my flight goggles when we get back over to the flight fields. That's what I usually do. 

"For today," she replies. 

"For today," I agree, climbing up her arm mid-flight to reseat myself. "Was it her?" 

"Yes," Tân replies, her voice just as caught and thick as mine. "That was her. That was my mother." 

Tân can't feel it, but I rub the scales in front of me, trying to give her some comfort. She chuffs and shakes her head from side to side in thanks. Each time we do this, it brings emotional pain for me, pain of seeing my father or my mother again and remembering us being happy. For Tân, it brings her solace. 

Tân lands gently and lowers her belly to the ground, putting out a foot so I can slide down instead of jump. "Thank you, little one." 

Sometimes I wonder if my Aretian heritage is why Tân bonded with me - I'm one of, if not the only rider born in Aretia of recent years to not be from a rebellious family. To still remember the dragons flying to Aretia and not also the pain of having my parents burnt.

I usually hide my origins due to the animosity the marked ones get, but during Threshing I was so scared I sang an old Aretian song of home that my mother taught me. It was under my breath, but Tân, who was hiding in the treeline, heard me and chose me. Her first words in my head were the chorus of the song. 

"It was not the reason I chose you," she says, nudging my back with her nose. I'm not expecting it, so I have to scramble to stay upright. "But it helped me on my way." 

Turning, I hold out my hand. She sits back a little, opens her mouth, and growls. I know what she wants - she wants a proper cuddle. But we can't. Not in front of everyone else who treat their dragons like they're the giant winged beasts that they are. 

"Zynd. Step away from your dragon," barks a voice behind me. 

I look over my shoulder, tilting my head. Aetos stands by his dragon, a red called...

"Cath."  

"Does he think you're going to eat me?" I ask Tân. 

"Yes." 

"She won't eat me," I call. 

"That's not a chance I'm willing to take. You're here because she didn't turn up to manoeuvres yesterday. We all saw her drop you on purpose and barely catch you before the ground. Then she pushed you. There's a big problem forming. Don't antagonise her. Step away, Zynd." 

"Do you trust me?" Tân asks. 

"Of course. Wait. Why?" 

The world goes black. Well, dark. Dark and red? Dark and smelly and red, and- "Tân! Am I in your mouth?" 

Her breath is hot against my skin, flowing over like a terrible smelling wind. 

I retch. "How long do I have to stay here? Because I'm pretty sure I can see a sheep carcass above me. Gods. Do you chew your food?" 

The light reappears and I roll my eyes up at Tân, who chuffs and nods her head like she's laughing.

Crossing my arms, I glare playfully up at her. "You can't do that again." 

She rolls her eyes just as dramatically as I did, then nudges my stomach with her nose. "Thank you for remembering my mother, little one."

"Of course, my love." 

"Will I see you tonight?" 

"Yes. Midnight. At the trees?" 

"See you then." 

She doesn't move. Doesn't flap her wings. Doesn't launch into the sky. Instead, she narrows her eyes. 

"What?" I ask, looking up at her. 

"Aetos is still looking. Cath is shouting at me to leave you alone and stop toying with you. Deigh and Cuir are asking what you did to anger me. So... Do you trust me?" 

"Gods, what now?" 

Tân turns her head sideways and sweeps towards the ground. Keeping her eyes on Aetos, she opens her mouth, and closes her front teeth around me, from chest to upper thigh. While I'm fully aware she could crunch me for her dinner, her hold is so secure yet gentle, I'm not for a second worried that's what's going to happen.

"Oh shit," Ridoc shouts, from where he stands with his dragon.

"Aotrom is his name," Tân supplies as she stands up, bouncing her head up and down so my head, legs and arms fly around. I start to laugh, but she growls and I stop. "Cry for help, little one."  

"Oh no," I shout in a monotone, watching Aetos's expression go from horror struck to flabbergasted. Ridoc's surprised laughter spurs me on this time, and I smile when I see Liam grinning at me from where he stands next to Deigh.

"My dragon has attacked me. I wish I could repair our relationship. I will do anything. Tân, please. No." I check my watch and balk. "Oh, shit." I punch Tân on the nose, which I know to her feels like a pat. "Tân! My first years are gauntlet training in five. I should go." 

Tân places me back on the ground and I start sprinting away, waving at her over my shoulder. "Bye, my love!"

She snaps her teeth in a gentle manner when I reach the edge of Fourth Wingers, and I turn, running backwards. She raises her head to the sky and breathes fire into the shape of a heart. 

"I love you too!" I shout out loud, cupping my hands over my mouth, and watching as she launches into the sky, straight through the smoke.

I turn and bump into a First Wing third year, who shoves me off. Stumbling, I recover well and frown. My eyes widen when I notice Varrish standing next to the cadet. 

Varrish's cold, pale gaze fixes on mine. "I see your dragon has returned, Zynd." 

Straightening, I clasp my hands behind my back. "Yes, sir." 

"She's quite... spirited. How old did you say she was?" He narrows his eyes at Tân's retreating back. 

"I er- I didn't." Swallowing, I admit, "She's twenty." 

He blinks at me. "Twenty? Not older?" 

"Yes, sir. I was her first bond."

"That is interesting." His gaze flicks to my arm, then back to my face. "Do you remember our conversation?" 

"Of course, sir. As you can see, Tân was present for flight manoeuvres."

"I meant our first conversation."

The relics. He was indicating the relics before. Shit. I nod. "Yes sir." 

He raises a brow. "Well? Have you spent any time with the marked ones? Durran in particular?" 

Even though he told me not to lie to him, in my mind I chant Lie. Lie. Lie. "Not outside of training or studying."  

His eyebrows raise together an infinitesimal amount. "Are you lying to me, Zynd?" 

The cadet next to Varrish shifts his feet. His throat bobbing is the only indication of his worry over my answer to this question. 

I shake my head. "No sir."

"Good, little one. Good." I can feel Tân's anger at Varrish. It rises through me like a wave of rage and all I want to do is turn my nails to claws and rip at his face. I can't, so I stand still and struggle to get my mental walls up enough to stop Tân's emotions becoming mine. 

"Good," Varrish says, his attention returning to the front. 

Heavy bootsteps approach. "Vice Commandant?" Aetos greets. "Were you watching training?"

"I was," Varrish confirms. His cold eyes turn back to me. 

Aetos follows his gaze. "As requested, Cadet Zynd completed all manoeuvres to the best of her ability." 

What he means is, I did them fine. Tân and I have our own manoeuvres she's been teaching me for almost a year. The ones we're learning during this class, in comparison, are tame. But, you can stretch things a little when you know your rider can fall twenty feet and heal herself. 

"Zynd is dismissed," Varrish says, stepping past Aetos. "Walk with me. I want to see your Wing. Is Sorrengail here?" 

I walk away, keeping my steps purposeful and measured. I wait until I'm at the stairs which lead from the flight fields down to the main buildings and to the gauntlet before I sink down to a squat, breathing hard. My heart beats too fast against my ribs, and my throat tightens. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why the fuck did I lie to him? Why the fuck did I go to Bodhi's room? Why didn't I just stay away like Varrish said? 

"At least he doesn't know how old you are," Tân says, her anger barely contained within her clipped tone. 

"You said that before, and look where I am? Two beatings down and only what, one and a half years to go?"

"I will find Solas and kill him." 

"I believe you, my love, but you haven't even killed a person. How can you kill a dragon?" 

"Fenryn."

I gasp and look to the sky. Tân doesn't usually use my name. She calls me little one, virgin sometimes, Fen maybe. But the way she said it... She's just as scared as I am. I'm her first bonded rider. She's already been told to expect more. 

"I don't want another," she says. 

I hear a shout and look down. At the bottom of the gigantic steps, Mirabel waves, then points at the Second Wing first years. Nine squads stand in groups at the bottom of the gauntlet, ready to have another go. 

"Coming," I yell, running down. 

There's not enough time for me to dwell on Varrish. We only have weeks left before the gauntlet run, then Threshing. And we still have eight cadets. They have to have my entire focus. 

Chapter Text

"Do you fall from the gauntlet?" I shouted.

"Fuck no!" they replied. 

"What do you do if you do fall?" I asked. 

"Catch the rope," they called. 

"And if you catch the rope, you...?" I asked. 

"Fucking climb," they said. 

"Because you will...?" I asked. 

"Fucking live!" They promised. 

"How did we lose another one?" Mirabel asks me as we walk back into Battle Brief, having heard yet another one of our first year's names on the death scroll at formation. 

"I don't know," I say, shaking my head. "I don't fucking know. He knew that course." 

"Inside and out," Cohen says beside me. "They all know that course." 

"Thaiden." Bodhi approaches Tomas with Fallden our Flame Section Leader. "How's your squad?" 

I can't help my inward groan at being caught. 

I've been keeping my head down for the last few days. Last week, I alternated Liam and Bodhi's beds for two more days until it got a bit too real for me that with two relationships comes two times I'll have to explain my sexual inexperience.

Thinking about it clearly one night, I made up an excuse not to visit either Bodhi or Liam, and backed off a bit. Then my squad were kidnapped for RSC with Third Wing and spent two days in the forest.

I don't know what was worse for my mental state: trying to contend with my sexual attraction to not one but two men who might just want me a whole lot and who I'm having to say 'not yet' to; or having to walk through a fucking forest with Third Wing and some infantry. 

Then when I returned, I made up even more excuses. Monday night I was with Tân. Tuesday with Mirabel and Brisa, Wednesday I spent in the common room trying to Mend a terrified cadet who had been beaten after curfew by the third years who caught him heading back to dorms late. Thursday I took a well earned break from all people and cited homework issues, and now here we are: Friday.

And by the way Bodhi's looking at me, I don't think I can hide any longer. The look in his eyes makes me think of what he said before - that me ignoring him makes him angry. But I'm not ignoring him, I'm just taking time. 

Tomas sighs and, seeing Bodhi's attention on me, glances my way. "Zynd can update as well, but we're down to seven cadets. We were almost at six but her lessons with Nolon are finally starting to work." 

I grumble, kicking the floor and keeping my gaze on my feet. "After I spent a night trying to Mend Yaltic, I'm looking forward to Threshing. I think I got the worst of his injuries, just hope he'll keep in good shape for the gauntlet."

Fallden nods. "Well, sounds like that's all as expected heading into Threshing. Durran's trying to suss out the competition and thinks you might be it." Smiling, Fallden squares his shoulders, even though Bodhi has at least five inches on him.

"True, but my Second Squad still have eight cadets, so I might win this one," Bodhi says unhelpfully, smiling at Fallden, who rolls his eyes. 

I glare at the side of Bodhi's stupidly handsome, kissable face. If he's trying to goade me into meeting him, it's not working. 

"Probably the Sorrengail effect. She can survive anything, can't she?" Cohen whispers rather loudly. 

Fallden laughs and walks off, leaving Bodhi with our squad.

"Did you want something else?" Brisa asks, crossing her arms. 

"Just to offer my commiserations," Bodhi says, brushing past me. His fingers trace my waist band and although he's gone in a second and no one else sees, it's almost too much to ignore and my mind goes to his bedroom. 

Fuck. No. Too complicated. Too complicated! 

"Dick," Mirabel whispers, glaring at Bodhi's back. "He just wants another Iron Squad Patch in Fourth Wing." 

I take a deep breath, clearing my mind, and nod. "Absolute fucking arsehole." 

"And Mairi. I've heard he's coaching his squad into winning the gauntlet patch." 

"Yeah, talented bastard," I reply absentmindedly. 

"And to think, Durran could have been our Section Leader if Riorson hadn't switched us out," Cohen mutters.

"And Liam would have been in Fourth Wing still," Mirabel groans. "Then I could look at his gorgeous face without wanting to hit him." 

I snort and Cohen yawns loudly. Stretching his arms out, he wraps one around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. With a finger, he tips my chin up. "You alright, love?" 

"Just depressed by all the death," I offer, hugging him around the middle as we walk. 

At the stairs, Cohen trips, almost bringing me down with him. "Fuck!"

"You know there are stairs there," Brisa calls from above, laughing.

On his knees and rubbing his calf, he turns and picks up a small stone from the floor. "What the actual fuck?" 

My gaze snaps to the back of Bodhi's head. He's facing away, but Liam stands with him, listening to whatever he's saying. Liam raises his brows and looks at Cohen's leg, then tosses a small stone in the air. 

Narrowing my eyes at Liam, I help my best friend to his feet and let him lean on me as he limps to his seat. 

"Talk to them or I will eat you," Tân says through what I assume is a yawn. "Cuir is restless. He won't leave me alone and I'm trying to sleep."  

"Why?" 

Tân's growl is enough to make me sit straight in my chair. A glance over my shoulder tells me Bodhi's watching me closely from where he sits with Fourth Wing leadership. 

I roll my eyes and take the hint. "Can you ask them both to meet me at the lakeside?" 

Tân chuffs. "Both?" 

"I don't think they'll be happy with what I have to say and I don't want to have to have this conversation twice," I sulk, slumping in my seat. 

Later, the bells ring out to say it's eight. I sneak from my room and run for the lakeside. It's not curfew yet, but I don't want to get caught so I wear my cloak over my nightshirt. I'm halfway down the stairs, running through the darkness and trailing my fingers over the bricks to guide my way, when hands firm around my waist, turning me in the air. All that goes through my mind is that I didn't bring my fucking daggers and I have to get ready for a fight. Why didn't I bring my fucking daggers!? 

My back's to the wall and Bodhi's lips are on mine before I even finish the thought. I know it's Bodhi by the way he kisses. His initial touches are more forceful than Liam's, like he needs to kiss me. Then, he lets the pace languish. Liam varies, but usually is slow and then speeds up as we make out for longer.

Bodhi kisses me until I'm breathless, his tongue leading mine, making me forget the well rehearsed 'I know I said I was good with this, but I think it's not fair on anyone' speech that was running through my mind. 

His hand firms around my neck, and his thumb traces my jaw as he moves his lips to my ear. "I swear to Loial I have not given my flight jacket to Sorrengail again."

"What?" I pant, clutching his shirt.

"You said you wouldn't touch me for a week if I gave her my jacket again," he whines. "It's been a fucking week, Ryn."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry." Fuck. Well, I guess I can't make any excuses anymore. "Bed hopping was getting to me." 

Bodhi rests his forehead against mine. His exhale whispers over my face. "I thought it might be. No, that's a lie. I thought it was just me, but Liam says you're avoiding him too." 

"Are you smiling?" I moan, when he licks the sensitive spot just underneath my ear. 

"You're not avoiding me. Of course I'm smiling." 

I let out a few tearless, groaning sobs and push his shoulders until he draws back from my neck. "I think we all need to slow down." 

Another exhale flows over my face. "What if I can't?" Bodhi asks. "What if I missed you this week? What if I need you in my bed?" 

"I don't know," I whisper. "There are two of you, Bodhi. How do you manage it with two girls?"

He shrugs, his shoulders moving under my hands. "I don't know. I've not done that." 

"And I don't know anyone who's had two guys at the same time either," I say, covering my face with my hands. "I don't know how to juggle it all." 

"Stay here," he commands after kissing me again. I can't speak, let alone breathe, so I just nod. 

He leaves and I blink at the dark wall opposite, tracing the lines I can just about see, until Liam appears and steals all the breath I'd just managed to get with a toe-curling kiss. 

"I missed you." He looks down the dark stairs. "Bodhi says you're avoiding us." 

Groaning, I throw my head back against the wall. There's a smack, then the pain comes, seeping through my head, making my eyes water. "Fuck." 

"Shit, you okay?" he asks, massaging the back of my head. 

"Yeah, just an idiot," I reply, burying my face in his neck. "I'm not avoiding you. You barely have time and maybe I'm busy when you're free?"

Liam chuckles. "Yesterday you turned the other way in the hall when you saw me coming." 

I grumble and shake my head. I was avoiding Sorrengail just in case she still had Bodhi's jacket, but I don't think telling him that would do me any favours. 

"Why did you want to meet us both?" Liam asks, rubbing his hands up and down my waist. "I hope it's nothing bad." 

My eyebrows draw together and I sigh. How am I meant to tell them I don't know if I can do this? That it's great when we're together but when I'm alone I overthink it all? That I need to spend more time focussing on my first years and getting them ready for Threshing than whatever this is? That it feels weird now, the idea of people finding out I'm alternating bedrooms? 

"I just think we need to talk," I say, pushing his hands down. 

Ten minutes later, I sit on the lakeside, staring out at the moonlight shining on the water. Bodhi and Liam sit on either side of me, kissing my neck. 

My ideas of breaking up with either of them went out the window the instant I made my way to the lakeside and Bodhi kissed me before I could speak. They knew exactly what they were doing and I'm a fucking sucker because it fucking worked and I can barely think, let alone complain about my current situation. 

"Varrish warned me to stay away from you both," I moan, trying to catch my breath yet again. "Well, just Bodhi specifically. You're both making it very, very hard for me to do that." 

"You make me very, very hard," Liam mutters. 

Bodhi chuckles and sneaks his hand up my nightshirt. I push it away, tutting at him. His fingers move to the buttons. "I'll make it fair," he says. 

"No you won't," I reply, rubbing my nose against his. "How am I meant to keep this equal?" I ask, voicing just one of my many issues.

"We'll figure it out," Liam says, kissing my chin. "Your comfort is our top priority."

Scrunching my nose, I turn my face to the sky and watch the stars while Liam and Bodhi continue to try to seduce me. 

"You're like brothers," I say, "it's creepy, right?" 

"We're not related," Liam says.

"And didn't grow up together. Hey, it's my shirt," Bodhi complains when I push his hands away from the buttons again. He frowns and sits up, looking out across the water. "Shit, I have to go. Stay with Liam tonight. Me tomorrow." He kisses me, then legs it back to the stairs and up. 

"Cuir calls," Tân says.

"Why?" 

"Do I sound like a carrier pigeon?" Tân snaps. "I've already passed on your messages once today." 

"Someone's moody."

"I miss Chradh," Tân sighs. "Your mating rituals aren't helping." 

"They're not mating rituals," I reply, "and I'm meant to be breaking up with them both." 

"Are you?" Tân asks, audibly unimpressed. "How is that going?" 

"I'll do it on Sunday after Bodhi," I say, allowing Liam to lead me up the stairs, making sure to grab my cloak on the way. 

"I hope you don't," she replies. 

"It's Friday night, go to Chradh," I say, huffing as we reach halfway up the stairs back to the quadrant. 

"Are you sure, little one?" 

"Yes, my love. Go have fun."

"Thank you."

Liam and I are lying in bed, laughing about the fact I still haven't finished the very important physics homework for class, when he tells me he'll have to start giving me lessons. 

"Oh yeah? Well my current teachers can't make me learn, what makes you think you can?" I ask. 

"I'll have to come up with a creative punishment," he says with a shrug. 

Laughing, I bury my face in his pillow and mumble, "I don't think there's anything you can do to punish me, Mairi." 

I feel a short sharp tap on my arse. 

Lifting my head from the pillow, I gape at Liam. "Did you just..." 

His throat bobs. "Depends on how you take it." 

Rising quickly, I jump on top of him, straddling him. I push him down onto his back with a lot more force than he used with me, and follow him down, kissing up his neck and across his chin, before biting his bottom lip. 

Just as I hoped, he lets out a long groan and his hands slide up the back of my thighs and under my shirt to cup my arse. 

"You had better not do that again," I warn, teasing him.  

I've learnt that Liam is bold. At first I thought he was shy, but he's not. Gods, he's so fucking bold. He looks me in the eye as he gives me another sharp tap on my arse. 

Gasping, I let out what I can only describe as a Tân in heat noise, and kiss him solidly. 

Without breaking the kiss, Liam sits up, and I can't control my hips as they circle, driving me against his hardness. One of his hands stays on my arse, kneading, the other takes hold of my hip and pushes me down further onto him. 

I let out a loud moan and pull away from his mouth by an inch or so. "Gods Liam,” I laugh, surprised at how I'm acting, “much more and I might actually mount you." 

"About time," he groans, grinding against me. He kisses my neck, up to my ear, where he whispers, “Tell me exactly what I have to do to make that happen." He spanks me again and bites my ear lobe.

I gasp. The warmth that's rushed through my body turns to fire. Holy fucking shit. 

A knock at the door snaps my mind back into action and, not muddled by the intense want I feel, I pull back, eyes wide. 

Liam follows, pressing urgent, open mouthed kisses to my neck as he groans my name. 

Oh my gods. 

I stare at his wall. Liam's serious. He wants me to mount him. Now. Tonight. If he keeps going, I might. Oh shit. Do I want this right now? I haven't prepared. Am I meant to prepare? What am I meant to do? Should I have shaved? Fuck. Should I? I mean, I keep it neat for myself but what will he expect? What if I can't do what he wants? What does he want? And Bodhi. What do I do about Bodhi? He said it didn't matter, but does it? 

Fuck, what do I do? 

“Fenryn?” Liam pants, drawing back. He stills when he sees the look on my face.

And now he's staring at me. I watch as the colour drains from his face and his whole body tenses.  

“Fenryn?” he whispers again. 

"What do I do?" I ask Tân. “I don't know what to do. Please help.”  

Oh shit. I forgot I told her she could go to Chradh because I was with Liam.

“I have to go,” I say, scrambling off him, and running to the door to grab my boots and cloak. 

"Hey,” Liam says, “I've spent too much time with Ridoc and got carried away. I'm sorry." 

"It's fine," I say, sliding my feet into my boots. “I just er-” Can I tell him I have to prepare for this? Gods. Physically as well. The girls at the pits hated their first times. That fear has driven me to not… Will I hate it too? Will it hurt? “I just need a minute.” 

Liam stands, but keeps his distance from me. "No, Fenryn, it's not okay. I got carried away. I'm sorry. This is your pace. Just stay." 

Panic rises in my chest, sending my heartbeat thundering more than before. What if me needing time ruins everything? "Seriously, Liam, this is not you. You didn't do anything. I promise. I just… I'm not ready.” 

“Which means I did do something wrong. Fen, I'm sorry.” 

“You didn’t." I kiss him, then swing my cloak around my shoulders, securing the fabric at my neck. "I just… I have to go."

“I'll walk you,” Liam says, grabbing his trousers. 

“No, don't, I'm fine,” I say, before kissing him again. "Next time I'm here, we will do more. I..." Can I admit it? "I just have to speak to Brisa and Mirabel first, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to ruin this," I admit, telling him a half-truth.

His brow furrows further. "You won't."

I smile and kiss him yet again. "Which is why you need to give me a little time, okay? I'll be back," I promise, leaving his room. 

“There you are,” Rhiannon says.

I turn, wide eyed, to see Rhiannon, Sawyer, Sorrengail and Ridoc standing with a couple of cadets with three stars on their shoulders. Why the fuck are they all just chatting in the hallway?

“Holy shit. Fenryn?” Ridoc laughs. 

Gods, that fucking laugh. It spears through me like ice. My face falls. 

“Fuck off Gamlyn,” I say, returning him to his surname. I don't care if I'm rude. He's fucking rude. 

“Oh shit, hey!” Ridoc calls after me. “You alright?”

“Fenryn,” Liam shouts after me. “I- what?” He must notice the others as he doesn’t continue after me.  

I run as fast as I can to get back to my corridor and bang my fist on the first door until Mirabel opens it, frowning. “S’up?” she asks, red-faced and a little sweaty.  

I'm so worked up I can't articulate myself and I just blurt out, “I'm seeing both Mairi and Durran and they both want sex and I freaked out because I want it too, but I'm a virgin and I don't know what to do and I left Liam just now, and Ridoc laughed at me and I need your help because I think I have to prepare and I don't know what to do.” 

“Inside, now,” Mirabel says, pulling me into her room. “You. Out. If you tell anyone what you just heard I'll kill you.”

“Noted,” Tomas says in a high pitch, leaving in just his underwear and eyeing me with a pursed lipped smile. 

Oh yeah, he's totally going to tell Cohen. 

“Oh gods, I'm sorry,” I whisper, seeing the state of her bed. “You were busy."  

“Ignore him." She grins. "I'll get Brisa and a bottle of wine.” 

"Why are you happy?" I ask, making the bed so I won't have to sit on her sheets. 

"You know this is the first time you've trusted me with something like this?" she says, pulling on a jumper. She stops at the door and turns, her nose wrinkling. “You do know how it works, right?” 

I huff a laugh and settle on her bed. “Yes. I've watched and stuff, just not done.” 

“Then you're halfway there." She smiles, then looks to the ceiling. "And... Mairi and Durran..." She looks at me. "Are we talking at the same time, or..."

"Separately," I confirm. 

Mirabel laughs and opens her door. "Thank the gods. I thought I was going to have to go get Rebecca." 

Once I've finished my tale, Brisa and Mirabel tighten their hold on me and cuddle further into my sides. 

"And they said equal..." Brisa says, frowning. 

"Yes. Which is a problem, because it's not equal, is it?" I ask. "Not if I've never done it before." 

Mirabel hums. "You definitely want to?" 

"Yes." I nod and stare at the ceiling. "I just need to get out of my own head about it, but it's difficult. And Tân's got this whole thing going with this other dragon and she's always telling me to put myself out there, blah blah blah." 

There's a knock at the door.

"Fuck off!" we all shout in unison. 

"Okay, then all I'll say is it doesn't matter about your body," Mirabel says, stroking my hair. "Neither of them will care what's there or not there, they've both made it clear they want you. It's about learning what you like." 

"True," Brisa agrees. "You can take your time. Explore yourself and them. Don't put pressure on it. You just have to stay strong enough to say no when you don't want it." 

"I can do that," I nod. "But what if it hurts?" 

"That's why you have to trust yourself," Mirabel says quietly. "And trust them. The first time might suck, but it also might be magnificent. It's like bonding with a dragon. It's scary but trust me, it can be so worth it." 

There's another door knock.

"Fuck off!" we shout again. 

The door opens instead. We all sit up as Mirabel reaches for her knives, only to drop them a moment later when Professor Grady walks in, flanked by two third years. 

"Fuck," I mutter, cuddling further into Brisa's side to hide my night clothes. "Again?"

"Would you prefer to get changed first?" Grady asks, holding a hand over his eyes. 

We all nod and change, then meet him in the hall, where we accept our fate for the second time in a week as we allow bags to be shoved over our heads for RSC. 

Now, Rhiannon, Ridoc, Sawyer and Sorrengail's being in the hallway when I left makes sense.

Shit.

The next morning, we're wandering through the forest when we come to a cliffside. Cohen points up.

"Climb and tell us where we are?" he asks me. 

The infantry squad we're with laugh and shake their heads, which spurs me on. The rock face is all sheer sheets of rock and someone inexperienced might not be able to do it, but thanks to the rudimentary equipment in our packs, I complete the climb to above the trees in just a few hours. I shout the view down to Cohen who determines our map is lying again and we should go with my directions.

I even spy Liam and his squad somewhere to the left in the forest, but I don't help them. There's not much time for a three mile detour and I don't want to bump into Ridoc. Within an hour we're on our way to where I know the horses and Grady wait. 

With our spare weekend day, Tân pleads with me, asking me to fly with her. At first I refuse. The lure of my bed takes precedence, as does trying to figure out the positions in the sex book Brisa lent me, but Tân tells me to look out the window. She's there, flying in large circles, twisting and turning through the air until my heart aches to fly with her.

"I'm going to Aretia," she calls, and I grab my flight jacket despite not needing it. 

Ducking my head into our little common room, I tell Cohen I'm going for a trek. He rolls his eyes and grumbles about the blisters he's got from the one we just finished. 

"We were gone for a day." I tap the doorframe two times. "Get a haircut while I'm gone, scruff ball." 

Less than fifteen minutes later, I settle onto Tân's back and frown at the package tied behind my usual perch. "What's that?" I ask. 

"Something for Chradh," she replies, launching into the sky. 

"You were just with him!"

"Which is when he asked me for assistance," she replies.

"Gods, Tân, please say your boyfriend's not making you do anything illegal," I laugh. 

Tân chuffs. "Not my boyfriend." 

My chuckle at her constant evasion of calling Chradh her boyfriend turns into a squeal when she flaps her wings once and we soar faster than ever above the cloudline. 

"Setting a new record?" I ask her, ducking my face to her scales to breathe against the whipping wind. 

"I have to get you back for Monday morning," she replies. 

We reach Aretia in record time. It's so beautiful from the sky, all rolling fields merging with mountains and the city itself is made of the most beautiful stone. 

Normally we approach from above the clouds and dive for the city itself at the last minute. This time, Tân takes us on the route I saw her mother take in my memory - over the fields. Though she only flies slightly underneath the clouds so we're as covert as we can be while still being secretive. My heart clenches when I see the old farmhouse I think I climbed as a child.

Chradh and Garrick greet us when we arrive at a field just outside the city walls. There are a couple of dragons around, all of whom eye us before going back to their activities - grazing, napping or lying around - when they sense no threat.

Garrick is poised to climb up Tân's arm when I slide down her leg, and his eyes widen. 

"This isn't the first time you've taken things here for Chradh, is it?" I ask Tân, assessing the way Garrick knows where to hold her scales to climb. 

Tân snorts, stamps her foot like a horse, and shakes her head. "Don't ask, little one. Not yet. I won't be able to tell you. Soon, I will." 

"Another lie?" 

"No. It's not a lie if you never knew. And now you know. I promised I wouldn't keep things from you, and this is me fulfilling my promise without breaching the trust of the Empyrean." 

"Fuck, that's serious. You weren't meant to bring me, were you?" I ask, eyeing up Chradh, who angles his nose and huffs a breath of hot air at Tân. I narrow my eyes at Garrick, who ignores me, and chooses to listen to whatever Chradh is saying instead. 

"I told him I would bring you," Tân replies. "He did not believe me. That is his issue. We have not mated. My loyalties do not yet extend to him and his rider." 

"If you want to keep secrets from me, make your dragon commit," I say to Garrick as he passes me.

"It's not as simple as that," he replies, crossing his mammoth arms. "There's more to this than you know."

"What, like venin?" I ask, thinking of the red eyed people at Resson. "And conspiracies to hide them? And Varrish having a vendetta against Bodhi? And people dying all around us?"

Garrick looks at me for a moment and then curses under his breath and begins his climb, muttering about not having the time to argue. 

"He is right, little one," Tân supplies, "You do not know the extent of it."

"But now he thinks I do."

"Now he thinks you do," she agrees.

I watch Garrick climb until he reaches Tân's back, and my stomach twists at the idea he's climbed my dragon without my knowledge, but I've never climbed another.

"Go to see the Mender," Tân commands. "You need pupillage, and Nolon is a-" She says something I don't understand but assume to be a terrible name. 

I eye up the long walk which leads to the main city. "I don't know. It'll take me a while to find the house and we should be heading back, right?"

Tân swings her tail. "He is in the field with Marbh."

I can only assume Marbh is Brennan Sorrengail's dragon from the way Tân says the name. "How will I know it's him?" I ask with a frown, walking the way Tân indicates with her head. 

"The dragon will remind you of Solas," she replies, snapping her teeth at Garrick, who shouts to Chradh. "Only with two eyes." 

"Oh, great. Another orange dragon to run from," I groan. 

Tân's chuffing laughter warms my heart as I continue over to the dragon I assume is Marbh.

Chapter Text

I find Brennan standing by Marbh's back foot, assessing his dragon's flank. He moves his work to Marbh's legs when I announce my arrival.

Instead of his usual black attire, he wears a simple pair of blue trousers and a white top, and the sun shines off his auburn hair. I don't think I've ever seen a rider whose dragon is the same colour as him. In fact, apart from identical siblings, I don't think I've ever seen two people or creatures or whatever this is who look more alike.

Unlike Garrick, Brennan doesn't seem to be surprised I'm in Aretia. "It was only a matter of time," he says when I ask why he doesn't seem angry. 

He tilts his head and frowns for a moment. "Marbh says Tân wants you to tell me about the RSC incident with your squad leader." 

Sighing, I look over at Tân, who snaps her teeth at Garrick. He stands on her back and raises his hands in the air. Chradh presses his snout against Tân's neck and she lowers her head, nudging Chradh's chest. Garrick returns to his work, freeing the gift Tân brought on her back. 

Once I've finished explaining to Brennan about how I saved Tomas's life by throwing him down the hillside, Brennan narrows his eyes at me.

"You should be more careful," he chides. "Your skills are invaluable. If your squad leader had been a step closer to that orange, you would have died." 

"It was fine." I shrug, looking around. "The Dragonfire barely touched me." 

"Dragonfire?" Brennan's head snaps up. "Were you harmed?" 

I shake my head. "My back was a little burnt but I healed quick enough for no one to notice."

Brennan looks at Marbh. The orange dragon growls low and deep, then turns his giant head away. I don't think he's too impressed, but who cares as long as he doesn't eat me or set me on fire? 

"You're not meant to stay in touch with your dragon during RSC," Brennan says, brushing down Marbh's foot. "You're meant to prove your independence." 

"Bold thing to say coming from someone who's currently buffing his dragon," I retort, crossing my arms. 

Marbh growls again, but the side of Brennan's mouth twitches up as he stands straight and runs a hand over Marbh's scales until his fingers catch on a gap. 

"Marbh's a little injured," he says, raising an eyebrow. "Would you like to see if you can heal him?" 

"No," I say immediately. "It'll hurt. And it's called Mending. You should know that."

Brennan smiles and tugs a cloth from his belt loop. "You should continue to practice healing injuries. Put all other Mending aside. Start small, and have pain potions on hand. One day you might be able to do it without it affecting you as much." 

"I Mend people all the time," I say defensively.

Brennan takes a deep breath and steps closer. "I've been thinking about it. You don't really fit the scope of a Mender. I think Healer would fit better."  

I scoff and look around, checking if anyone else is hearing this shit. "Excuse me? I came here for advice and you're insulting me and saying my skills of Mending a mother fucking dragon are comparable to what they teach in the Healers Quadrant?" 

Brennan sighs. "No. That's not what I'm saying." He wipes his hands, rolling each finger in the cloth in turn. "But you don't Mend people, do you? You transfer their injuries onto yourself. You heal them. Then you Mend yourself. And you Mend yourself to the point of no scarring. It's unheard of." His brow furrows. "Even when Naolin..."

Brennan trails off and looks up at Marbh, who shifts one gigantic foot, digging his claws into the ground.

"Even now," Brennan continues, "I still have scars." 

"It's not unheard of," I say, frowning. "What's unheard of is someone being brought back from the dead."

Brennan seems to ignore my retort. "I checked Deigh over after Resson. He had no indication of a Wyvern attack. By the time you reached Aretia, you had finished healing your body."

Despite my annoyance, I can't not focus on the fact Brennan mentioned Naolin. Then, I can't help the question which bubbles up. "What was it like?" I ask quickly. "To be brought back from death?"

It's something I've wanted to know since I found out Brennan was alive, but I've never had the chance to ask him. I can only assume he wouldn't answer my other question if I were to pluck up the courage to ask it - How did Naolin do it if Brennan was already dead?

Brennan runs his hands over Marbh's foot again, touching under the scales and tracing the slight overlapping grooves. He doesn't answer for a minute, then says, "Odd." 

"Odd?" 

"Odd," he confirms. "I can explain if you'd like?" 

"I would like," I say slowly, wondering what he'll say. 

Suddenly, my vision swims. I blink and force myself to stand upright as the green valley, Marbh and Brennan all blur and fade into the background. The roar of water thunders through my ears and I look down to see I'm standing in a river. Jumping back, I scramble for the bank, but it's so far away. And it's so dark here.

Still, I have to try. I start to run, my feet gliding through the water. A pair of arms wraps around my waist and holds me tight. At first I fight the hold but then Brennan says, "Calm. My memory, not yours. You're still in the valley. Just watch." 

I nod and gasp. This isn't the first time I've seen someone's memories in my own head provided by their dragon to mine. The first time it was Violet Sorrengail's dragon showing us all how she was attacked in her bedroom by a squad leader called Amber. Makes sense Sorrengail's brother would also not wait for my approval before deciding what I should and shouldn't see in my own mind. 

"Where is this?" I ask, looking around. There's not much. At least, I can't feel much. Can't see much. The water is all encompassing, rushing past so quickly it makes me nervous despite knowing I'm safe. 

"I still don't know," Brennan says. "I have a name for it, but I'll tell you after."

I turn my head and notice there's a drop where the river falls over what I assume is a cliff. Beyond that; nothing. If anything, it's even darker out there. 

Looking down, I let out a small scream and jump. Brennan's arms tighten again and he hoists me up so my feet aren't in the water, even though we both know there is no water, it's just a memory. 

Someone lies underneath the surface, eyes wide and staring. We move out the way and they're swept on, over the cliff. 

In the memory, Brennan begins to struggle forwards, trying to claw and fight against the current to get upstream. He fights and fights until finally, someone comes.

Wrapped in a shroud of gold, with a lieutenant insignia on their black riders jacket, they walk towards Brennan, holding out their arms.

Brennan shouts something and, reaching him, the unknown man touches Brennan's arm. In that moment, the water changes direction impossibly, flowing upstream in just one part of the river. Brennan grabs the shrouded man's hand and they run together up to what I think is a dark archway. 

I recognise the mark of Malek on the stone above where the arch is illuminated by the light of the golden shroud. 

"Naolin!" Brennan shouts when the man lets Brennan's hand go and begins to walk back to the river. "Come with me!" 

"I cannot," Naolin replies over his shoulder. "I siphoned your power and Mended you from the brink of death. If you Mend me, you will come back here, and we will repeat this again and again."

Naolin says something else, but all I hear is the river. Which means he said something Brennan doesn't want me to hear. 

"Surely there's something we can do," Brennan shouts, clutching at the retreating man's arm. 

"There's nothing," Naolin replies, gaze flicking to the arch. "I have burned out. I have commended my soul to Malek in exchange for yours." 

The world shifts and the memory retreats, bringing back the almost blinding sun and green field outside Aretia.

Gasping, I drop to my knees and clutch my sternum for purchase as I ground myself in the present.

Brennan squats beside me. "Have you ever seen Malek's river before?" 

"No!" I shout, staring at him with wide, watery eyes. My vision swims and my voice shakes. "What was that!?" 

Brennan sighs, ducking his head. "I'm sorry, I thought perhaps..." He sighs again and looks over his shoulder towards where Chradh and Tân stand. "Tân is ready. You have to go back to Basgiath, but we'll speak about this again when I see you next."

He doesn't need to tell me twice. Running on stumbling feet, I cross the distance to Tân within minutes, and allow her to launch us into the sky while I'm still holding onto her leg. I complete the climb up her scales slowly, only mounting her back once she's above the clouds. 

We're halfway home to Basgiath when she says, "You have seen the river, little one." 

"I remember," I gasp, staring unseeing at the empty sky above the white clouds. It's all I can think about now. But I don't want to remember that river. I don't want to remember holding my mother in my arms as a child and seeing it reflected in her eyes. "But I'm not going to tell Brennan fucking Sorrengail that." 

"Aisereigh," Tân corrects. "His name is now Aisereigh."

"A new surname because you faked your death doesn't change who you were born to be," I snap back, unable to control my fear from making me lash out. "And he's a Sorrengail through and through."

"I will remember you said that, little one." 

"What does that mean?"  I ask indignantly.

"There are more people in your life hiding their true names," Tan supplies. "Their true heritage. You are unwittingly one of them."

"I had my name taken from me. I don't remember. He does! Who else is there?" I ask. "Cohen? Is he actually a duke or something?"

Tân chuffs. "No. It is not Cohen. It is also not my liberty to reveal." 

"Thanks for the fucking help then." A second later I'm falling down, down, down through the mist like clouds. Claws close around my body, catching me midair. I get the picture. "Sorry, my love." 

"Your anger is acceptable. Your snap is not." 

"I understand," I say. "I love you." 

"I love you as well, little one." 

She allows me to climb back up to her back. I fall silent, thinking over the river again, letting it consume my thoughts just like it consumed Naolin.

When we return to Basgiath, Tân lands not in the flight fields, but by the lake. I disembark and find Bodhi leaning against the wall that leads to the stairwell. He straightens when he sees me. His wide open mouth tells me he's just as surprised as Garrick was. 

"Ryn," he says, gaze flicking between Tân and me. "Did you...?" 

"Tell him Garrick will pick up the next shipment in a week," Tân commands. 

"I'm not a carrier human," I reply to Tân, narrowing my eyes at Bodhi, whose throat bobs. "Where's Liam?" I ask out loud.

The sky is already dark, so when he moves, stepping into shadow, I can only see half his face.  "With Violet," he replies. "They had RSC. Only just got back."  

I hum and walk past him, ignoring the way he reaches for me. Still, I'm fully aware of what he's said before, and I find myself wanting to explain why I didn't see him last night. "I had RSC as well."

"I thought so. Ryn, what you saw..." He trails off when he sees the glare on my face. 

"Don't get her in trouble," I say through clenched teeth. "And don't get me in trouble either." 

Bodhi starts. "Chradh-"

"Shouldn't be using his sexual prowess to convince Tân to betray me," I interrupt, slipping into the stairwell.

I don't want to fight. I don't want to talk. 

I run up the stairs two at a time, bolstered by the memory of that river. Malek's river. That's what Brennan called it. Fuck. Is that what I have to look forward to when I finally die?

It's fucking scary. So fucking scary. I never want to see that river again. Before today, I never thought I would.

I want to run and run and run and never look back. I want to live forever so I never have to worry about that fucking river. 

"That's not how it works, little one," Tân says. 

"Not the time for realism, thanks," I snap, running across the courtyard, heading to the dorms to grab my wash bag. 

There's a restlessness in my body that even flying with Tân hasn't dampened. My heart beats faster than usual. My throat feels tighter. I want to run, I want to do... something. I need to do something.

Stripping my clothes and taking a hot shower does nothing. Nor does an ice cold shower. Not even the temperature shocks rid my mind of Brennan's memory. 

Training doesn't help either. I spend an entire hour in the training rooms fighting a wooden pole as Sloane watches with a furrowed brow. I try to use up all the energy flowing uncomfortably through my veins by kicking and cutting the wood with a sword, but it's not enough. 

I go for as long a run as I can this close to curfew. Again, nothing. 

Another shower. Nothing.

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

FUCK. 

It's late by the time I return to my room. So late, curfew has passed. But I need something. I need something. I need...

Standing in the middle of my room, my gaze snaps from the book Brisa leant me, to my armoire, to my door, over and over in a cycle. 

For the first time in hours, my mind focuses. Brennan's memory falls away. 

I realise I need to do something that scares the shit out of me. Something that might just make me feel...

Alive. 

Chapter Text

"Is Bodhi in his room?" I ask Tân, stripping my clothes. I pause, arms halfway into my nightshirt when she doesn't answer. "Tân?" 

"He has gone," Tân replies. I can hear the pout in her voice. "Liam was too late for his duty. Bodhi and Cuir took over."

"What!?" I cry, throwing my cloak onto my bed. It doesn't make enough of a noise, so I grab my boots and throw them against my wall. Better. 

Hands on hips, I ask Tân, "And Liam? Bodhi said he was back. Is he free?" 

"Asleep," she grumbles minutes later. "Deigh is reluctant to wake his rider as I did not tell him your reasons for a visit." 

"What the fuck is this!?" I cry, lifting my hands to the sky. "I actually want to mount someone and no one's awake?" 

Tân's chuffs turn into what I know to be her laughter. "You could always go downstairs. First year dorms. Find the First Wing cadet I chose for you. You said you would think of him if he survived Threshing. That is one week from now. Pay him a surprise visit." 

"Sammet? No, he died," I say, baring my teeth. I don't know why I answer as if I have any intention of finding someone who's not Liam or Bodhi. 

Tân's voice rumbles through my mind. "Fourth Wing first year dorms. Bring the Prince of Navarre to your room and mount him." 

"Fucking Aaric Graycastle?" I scoff, crossing my arms like I'm speaking to someone and not the dragon's voice in my head. "That arrogant prick?" 

"The arrogant prick whose jawline you have thought of more than once." 

Huffing breaths, I throw my arms in the air and begin to pace my room. "Well, I can't do that, can I? Not if I have two boyfriends."

"Challenge him to the mat. Lose. You will be honour bound to give yourself to him. Deigh and Cuir's riders will understand."

This makes me chuckle and I throw myself onto my back on the bed. "I don't think they will. I guess it's back to bed for me then." 

Rolling onto my front, I make my way to my pillows.  

"Would you like me to sing you a song?" 

Crawling under the covers, I pull them up to my nose and close my eyes. Tân isn't being serious, but the river is waiting for me when my body settles into my sheets and my eyes close. It's all I can think about. "Yes please," I whisper. 

Tân chuffs. A moment later, her low timbre fills my mind, singing the song my mother used to sing. The song I remember from my childhood. The song I was singing when Tân chose me. 

I fall asleep and my dreams are filled with the river, venin, glassy eyes, and Naolin. 

Two days. It takes two days before I know at least one of them is alone, in their room, and willing to have a visit. I say willing to have a visit, because it's the week of the gauntlet. We have just two days left until our first years run the line, and Liam and Bodhi both have so much to do to help prepare. I know because I've spent two nights with the first years in the training rooms. 

The only good thing about the break was that I realised I could get out of my head through a combination of constant training, and pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion so I could actually fucking sleep. 

Dressing in my nightgown, I draw my cloak around myself and make my way over to Fourth Wing. I knock on the door and have to wait for two beats before I hear the lock click. There's a curse, then the door's wrenched open.

No one should look that good in the evening. I mean, he always does, but his hair is mussed, and he looks like he does in my wildest dreams. 

“Hi,” I whisper. “Did I wake you?” 

His gaze searches mine. “No, I was just…” He trails off, glancing at his desk, where papers are sprawled over the wooden top. 

“Can I come in?” I ask when he doesn't invite me.

“Yeah. You don't have to ask.” He wraps a hand around my forearm and tugs me inside. The door clicks shut behind me. “Fenryn, what you saw, with Tân on Sunday. You have-”

I let the cloak slip to the floor and turn around to face him. “Do you take the protective potion?” I ask. 

His throat bobs. His gaze fixes on the hem of my nightdress. It makes me rethink his reaction to seeing me in this exact outfit at the start of the academic year, when I dismissed him as silent and more intent on saving his marked ones from my dragon who was hiding in the treeline.

“Uh, yeah,” he answers when I ask him about the potion again. 

“Good. I don't want to talk.” Grasping the straps of my nightgown, I slide them over my shoulders and shimmy out of the garment.

He blinks, mouth falling open as his gaze travels over my bare skin and black lace underwear, dragging down, then up. “We should talk first,” he says, sounding pained. “About what you saw.” 

Be confident, I remind myself. The worst he can say is no right now. The worst he can say is he doesn't want me at this precise moment. And if he does, there's someone else. 

It's just that I trust him. Completely. 

“I don't want to talk,” I say again, undoing the clasp of my bra. Slipping it off, I hold one strap in the air and let it fall to the floor beside me.

His eyes blow wide and his gaze fixes on my chest. 

“You know I won't tell anyone, so we have nothing to discuss.” 

“We need to,” he says, leaning back against the door. He sucks a long breath. “If we don't, you'll think this is a mistake.” 

“It's not. I trust you.” 

Be bold, I think. Remember what Mirabel and Brisa said. I'm in control. 

Hooking my fingers under the fabric at my hips, I slide them down to the floor and step out of my underwear, kicking the garment over to my bra. 

“Fuck, Ryn,” he growls. “Just talk to me first, alright? Tân-” 

“If I don't, what will you do?” I interrupt, tilting my head and touching my chest.

His stammering makes me smile and, emboldened, I trail one hand down slowly, flattening it against my stomach. He chokes, his gaze fixed on my exploring hand.

“We…” Running a hand through his hair, he sucks in a breath. “We should talk first.” 

Oh. Fuck. He's actually serious. Really?

“Ok,” I say, trying to not show my obvious upset. Rolling my shoulders back, I remove my hands from my body and wring them together behind my back. “That's fine.” I swallow down the thick emotion in my voice. “Thing is, I don't want to talk, I just want to do something that'll make me feel good. And I've already waited three days because you were busy last time I wanted this, so I guess I'll just go and—” 

“No you fucking won't,” he growls, crossing the distance between us in two long strides. “It's my night, Ryn.” 

I meant I'd go back to bed, but gods. My stomach flops. There's something about possessive Bodhi that apparently gets me going. 

His lips cover mine. I open my mouth and our tongues meld together, eliciting one of the moans he loves so much. His hands skim my chest, moving to my back. Mine secure around his shoulders. His vest and flight leathers feel incredible against my bare skin, catching and rubbing against me in random places. 

After he's devoured my mouth, and any thought of me leaving has thoroughly exited my head, he grabs me behind the knees, lifts me to his chest, then lowers me to his bed. 

“Ryn.” He drags his gaze over my naked body, until he meets my eye. “You know you still look just like you did when we first met?” 

My eyebrows draw together. What? I look scared, uncertain and desperate!? 

“Absolutely fucking perfect." 

Oh. I blink. Do I admit I don't remember his face from when we met? That I just remember talking to him? 

No. There's no time to even consider that. Kisses rain down on my skin as his lips move to my cheek, neck and chest, just like before. Only this time, he continues further down, following his hand. 

Bodhi whispers something with each kiss, but all I can make out is my thundering heartbeat in my ears as I grasp onto the buttery, unyielding fabric of his vest. 

Down. 

I can barely think. Each touch is just as I imagined. Even better perhaps. 

Down. 

I gasp when he swipes his tongue against me. My hips buck and I automatically close my thighs together, accidentally trapping him. 

Bodhi groans my name, digs his fingertips into my thighs to pull them apart, then looks up at me with a broad smile. “I am not opposed to dying right between your legs, Ryn, but at least let me get you there first.” 

I can't help my smile. Propping myself up, I slap his shoulder. “Some of us aren't used to men going down on us.” 

Bodhi’s brows raise. “Gods, Ryn. The company you keep…” His gaze drags over my body again. “Did none of them know you're meant to worship goddesses?” 

“Fuck off,” I half-shout, whacking his shoulder again. I can't help my laughter, and his smile gets impossibly bigger. 

“Is it okay if I…?” he asks, gaze flicking down, then to my eyes. "Please, baby?"

Trying to keep my nervousness out of my reaction, I nod, and try to keep my thoughts on this when he returns to the spot. 

Arching my back, I grab hold of a handful of his soft curls, and don't try to think anymore. It feels incredible. This. This is what I didn't know I needed. This is what will get me out of my head. This is what already makes me feel alive. 

I don't stop him until my thighs are shaking, and I can feel an intense heat, like flames threatening to burst from my lower belly and roll over my body. It's so much more intense than when I'm alone. But I can't wait any longer. I need more. 

Fisting his hair, I pull his head away. His gaze meets mine. Fuck me. I don't know if it's this next step we've taken, but no one should look like that after what he's just done. 

“You’re almost there,” he says, as if he knows my body better than I do. “Just a little longer.” He studies my face. I'm sure he sees fear in my wide eyes. “It's okay,” he whispers, furrowing his brow, “you’re safe with me.” 

“You must be getting tired,” I whisper, voicing the worry that sits at the forefront of my mind. 

“Never,” Bodhi replies. “Just because the others have been absolute fucking idiots, doesn't mean I am.” 

Others. Oh shit, yeah. He still thinks there have been others. I can't tell him. I won't tell him. Fuck. Tingles rush to my chest, prickling under my skin. If he continues this, I'm sure he'll know and then what if he doesn't want me? What if I'm too inexperienced?

The thundering in my ears morphs into the thunder of the river as anxiety rears its ugly head, warping my thoughts. I throw my head back over my shoulders and stare up at the ceiling, trying to rid myself of the worry. 

Bodhi seizes the opportunity and drops his head back between my legs. 

The river disappears. 

It's just me and Bodhi in this bed. Together. Just us.

Fuck, he's good at this.

Even with the river gone, the anxiety I feel is still ever present, weighing down on my chest and a new worry presents itself, sending my mind reeling.

“No more of that,” I say, grabbing his hair again. “Just fuck me.” 

I don't need any more assistance and… and I hope he doesn't see how much of a coward I am, but I've never been this vulnerable with anyone. Letting him keep going until I lose all control on my own… It feels like too much. I just need to get this out of the way. I can't wait any longer. I don't want to fear this any longer.

Turning his face to my thigh, he kisses my skin.

Propped on my elbow, I swallow down the lump in my throat and keep my eyes on him. 

“Just…” I trail off. This isn't meant to happen. That's what you say - I want to fuck you - and you… fuck. I don't understand. “Just fuck me.” 

His grip tightens as he watches me. “You know I want more than just your body. Something's worrying you. Let me in.”    

I lick my lips and breathe slow and deep. I hope he'll stop waiting and just say “oh fuck it”, but he doesn’t. He wants me to 'let him in' and admit a truth. He wants me to share my thoughts. But I can't. It's too much. It'll ruin everything if I tell him about what Brennan showed me. He'll want to talk about it, and what if I tell him everything? And then I'll be crying and I won't do this.  

“Let me in,” he whispers again, kissing my thigh. “It'll be so much better if you do, baby. I don't want you holding back tonight.” 

Okay. A worry. I can give him that. Not the whole truth. Just voice a worry. I can do this. “I don't want to lose control.” 

He looks aghast. “Around me?” he asks, gripping my legs as he draws himself to his knees. “You don't trust me?” 

I shake my head and cup his cheek. “On my own. It's too much. I'd be too vulnerable.”  

His brow relaxes. “I'll have to come back to this then,” he promises.

Standing, he strips away his clothes until I can see the full extent of his relic, and the rest of him. Wow. It's… wow. I don't know if I'll ever understand why he likes me, let alone enjoys me touching him, but tonight I am not complaining. Not in the slightest. 

I force myself to keep my gaze on his chest so I won't stare lower and worry about the unknown. I trace the black mark skirting up his arm as he returns to my embrace, settling himself between my legs. 

Capturing my lips in a long kiss which gets me mercifully out of my own head, he positions himself, then thrusts inside. 

He doesn't know this is my first time, and I don't want him to know. I don't want to be that vulnerable. Not tonight. Not when all I want is to be with him and not think about my own mortality. 

Bodhi’s groan, low and deep and sexy as all fuck, fills my ears. He adjusts and pushes in further. 

“Gods, Ryn,” he whispers against my lips, guiding my knee to my chest. “We'll lose control together, okay?” 

With a strong move, he slides even further.  

I hiss. My thighs tighten around his hip and waist. My fingertips sink into his back. Having him there is a momentary ache which shocks me as it's so new. Oh so new. And I'm not used to new aches anymore. Or new sensations. 

It makes me feel alive. 

Yes.

This is everything. 

“Shit. Am I too heavy?” he breathes, bracing his arms next to my head, removing his delicious weight from my chest. I try to tug him back down, but he resists. 

Sliding my hands down his back, I relax my legs. I swallow thickly under the intensity of his gaze as he looks down at me, one eyebrow quirked. 

“It’s okay,” I say, “it was just odd for a second.” I let out a breath of a laugh. "It didn't even hurt," I mutter, leaning up to press a kiss to his shoulder. I don't know why I've been so worried about it.

His reply is another one of his broad smiles. There's a twinkle in his eye. “Like I said, baby, the others must have been absolute fucking…” His smile freezes. He glances down between us, then back at me. “Ryn,” he breathes. His hand firms around my cocked knee. He studies my eyes. “Ryn, is this why… am I…” 

Shit. He knows. He knows he's my first and I don't know what to say. My brows twitch together. He won't stop, will he? I blink furiously. What if he stops?

“Don't stop,” I whisper.

“Ryn," he breathes. "If it’s— fuck, Ryn.”

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, clutching at his waist.

“No, baby," he says, shaking his head. He readjusts his arms. "No. Not your problem. It's me. I should have gone slower. Fuck. I just thought you-" 

I cover his mouth with my hand, stopping him from speaking. “Bodhi. Please don't stop? I want this. I really do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here.”  

He studies me for one beat. Two. Three. Then he nods. I let him go, and his lips cover mine. “Trust me?” he mumbles.

I nod.

He adjusts over me, returning his delicious, grounding weight to my chest as he moves his face to my neck. Seconds later, I relax and frown up at the ceiling as he starts to kiss the column of my neck instead of thrusting. 

I swear to the gods, I know there's meant to be movement. I'm not that goddamn sheltered. But he keeps kissing and not thrusting. 

All of my worries about my naked body or if he'll like it melt away, leaving just one awful thought.

“Bodhi,” I say slowly, frowning up at the ceiling. “I know I’m the virgin, but I just want to check that you know how sex works,” I say incredulously. “ Please say you know how sex works? If you don't, I have a book, but I left it in my room…”

His chuckle sends his teeth scraping at my neck and I moan at the feeling and wriggle my thighs around his hips. Still, he's steadfast and unmoving. 

“I know how it works, baby,” he confirms, placing open mouthed kisses across my collarbone, creating a path to the other side of my neck. 

“Then move,” I command, tugging his hair. 

He groans against my shoulder. “I will, just give me a second.” 

“Why?” 

“I thought you trusted me.” 

Ugh, I can't complain with that one. Sighing, I allow my body to melt into the soft fabric sheets of his bed, and focus on the now wonderful feel of him inside me, with his weight pressing me down. 

My brain is so clear, I blurt out the worst question; “Why are your sheets so soft?” I regret the words immediately, but I can't take them back, so I hold my breath and hope he didn't hear. 

He runs his tongue over my collarbone and back, making me melt even more. “Fabric softener,” he says, tracing the path his lips took with a finger. “When I was fostered I did laundry as my weekly chore outside of training. Old habits die hard.” 

“I'm sorry,” I say, tracing my fingers over his relic. 

Bodhi shakes his head, smiles at me, then ducks his head back to my neck. 

I start running my fingernails up his back, smiling and revelling in the little hisses I get from him when I scratch his skin. Two can play at whatever game he's playing at. His groan vibrates through my chest as I scrape my teeth over his earlobe. Still, he doesn't keep going. 

Which means no, two can't play at the same game because I don't know the rules. 

Melting once again when he kisses the sensitive spot beneath my ear, I huff a breath, roll my eyes. Then, I gasp. My eyes flutter shut as he starts to move, drawing out before pushing in again so, so slowly. My hands slide to his middle back and I hold on. 

Less than a minute in, I know I want more, but my brain is mush. “What… can you tell me… I…” I don't even know how to ask, or how to articulate what I mean. “Is this slow?”

“Yes, this is slow,” he mutters against my lips.

“And fast?” I ask. He thrusts faster. I clutch his skin, digging in my nails. “Oh gods!” 

He returns to slow, then picks up the pace to a toe curling speed. “And medium,” he says.

“I like that,” I pant, throwing my head back and adjusting my knees. “And hard?” 

He thrusts so fucking hard. 

“Fuck! Too much!” Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn my head.

“Sorry, baby,” he groans, dropping his face to my neck. “That wasn't the hardest,” he confirms through clenched teeth as he goes back to slow. 

When I open my eyes, I frown at the way his hand fists his bedsheet just above my head. I turn my head. The other side’s the same. 

“Is this hurting you?” I ask, running my fingers from the start of his relic at his wrist, up to his shoulder. “I'm sorry if it is.”

“No,” he says simply, though his eyes are squeezed shut. He changes his thrusts so they're deeper but not so hard and all thought of calling him out on his lie leaves my mind. “This better?” he asks. 

My breath catches in my throat. Perfect. It feels perfect. I don't know how to tell him. 

He pauses inside me. I open my eyes to find him watching me with dark eyes and a stern expression. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says.  

I shake my head, but he doesn't move until I say, “Medium. And… and a little harder than the last.” 

“Yeah? Like this?” 

My mouth morphs into an ‘o’, my eyes roll into the back of my head, and my hips buck. “Yes. Like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Little more.” 

“This?” 

Gasping, eyelids flickering, I barely trust my voice but now I know what will happen if I don't tell him. Worried he'll stop, I nod and force out a breathless, “Yes.” 

“Good, baby,” he says between kisses to my lips and cheeks. “Well done. Fuck, you’re doing so good.” 

I start to laugh, and cover my face with my hands. He's praising me when he's doing everything.

Bodhi stills inside me again, and I can feel every fucking inch of him. His hips are pressed almost painfully against my thighs, and I've never felt so full. I fucking love it. 

“I'm sorry,” I laugh, shaking my head from side to side. My shoulders shake, my body shakes, and I just can't stop laughing. “But I'm not doing anything, am I? I'm just lying here.”

When the hysteria finally leaves me, I find Bodhi grinning down at me with an indescribable look in his eye. 

I slide my hand to the back of his neck as he dips his head and kisses me. Our tongues battle, and I hold on tight to his shoulder, clutching on his skin to ground myself. He starts up again, hitting that delicious middle ground of everything he's shown me. 

I break the kiss to whimper, “Faster.” 

For the next minutes as he drives me crazy, he takes my every instruction like it's a menu order, building my perfect rhythm and angle. 

“Trust me?” he asks, shifting his weight to reach a hand down between us. 

I nod again. “Trust you.” 

His fingers swipe against me. My moan is so fucking loud I get embarrassed, and for the first time I realise this is all how I want it. There's nothing so far for him. I haven't even touched him bar his back and chest, and that's hardly anything. He's doing all the work.

“Is this okay for you?” I gasp. “You haven't told me what you want.”

“It's all so fucking perfect, Ryn," he grunts, "I'm loving every fucking second.” 

I think he's lying again - the vein in his neck is strained and his nostrils flare as he watches me. 

“But it's not your speed,” I whimper, my eyebrows drawing together.

“Your speed is exactly what I want right now. Now tell me if this feels good for you.” 

“It's incredible,” I whisper, holding on with one hand, tracing the taut muscles of his chest with my other. 

He nods, his wide-eyed gaze searching mine, looking for something. “And my fingers? Do you want faster? Slower? More pressure? Tell me, baby.”  

My eyebrows draw closer together. “I'm not sure.” 

He swipes and circles his fingers and my thighs tighten around his hips. 

I gasp and throw my head into the pillows, arching my back. “I'm so… fuck... Yes.” 

I lose any tiny sliver of focus I had, and descend into a garbled list of repeated words to try to get him to keep going exactly like that. 

And he does. Thank the gods, he does. He praises me and keeps going, saying things like, “Yes, baby” or “Not long now” or “Fuck, so good.” 

I can only nod and agree and chant his name as he drives me higher and higher, until my entire body sparks. 

My legs shake around his hips and his long groan joins my moan as flames roll through my body, bringing a rush of euphoria. I buck my hips without rhyme or reason and my mind turns to mush. Like, I thought it was mush before, but gods .

I'm so high and jelly-like from pleasure, my only indication that he's finishing is the way his hands grip the back of my neck and hip as he drives into me faster and harder than before, growling my name, praising me, and telling me how perfect I feel around him. 

“It'll feel better next time,” he whispers against my ear when he's finished and the pounding blood in my ears has settled. “And even better after that. I promise.” 

He holds me in his arms, kissing me deeply for long minutes as I come down from that incredible high. I don't know how it can feel better, but now I'm so excited to find out. Gods, if it's this good with him, how will it be with–

“How are you feeling?” he asks sweetly, interrupting my thoughts. He kisses the tip of my nose. “Do you want to stop?” 

“You can keep… keep going? It isn't a one and done kind of thing?” 

“I can keep going all night for you," he promises. 

I answer immediately and lose all hope of not sounding overly keen. “More please.”

“Thank Loial. Just give me one second.” He rolls out of bed, and I scramble to grab the sheet, suddenly self conscious. Oh shit. What if he doesn't like what he sees now that he's able to think properly? 

I can see the sheen of sweat on his lower back and shoulders, but I don't care. I can feel it on my stomach and under my arms, but again - I don't care. It's like I said to Sloane, it's a by-product of exercise. And this is a kind of exercise I can and will get behind. I just hope at some point I can run for a shower...

He picks up something from the chair by the door and turns. When he sees me hidden, he frowns and takes hold of the sheet, pulling it off despite my iron grip on it. “Never hide from me, baby. You're fucking perfect and I want to see you.” 

“What's that for?” I bite my lip and frown at the towel in his hand. 

Bodhi chuckles. “I know you don't like sweat,” he says, before proceeding to dry us off. 

Tears fill my eyes at the gesture. No one's done this for me before. I have to apologise again when he stops for a moment, a look of concern on his handsome features. 

“You remembered,” I say, trying to hide my face. 

“Of course.” 

We explore each other once more, every touch like fire through my body. This time, after he's shown me how he can drive me to euphoria with just his hand, I trace my hand down his body and take a turn.

Holy fucking shit, why did I not do this before? Gods, the praise and instructions he groans out is enough to make me want to do this every day. I truly feel like I could bring this man to his knees with a single look now. 

Before he finishes, he rolls us so I'm under him again, and gives me a repeat performance of my first time. 

“This doesn't seem fair,” I gasp, as I start to come undone. “I think I'm on three.”

“Gods, Ryn. It's so fair. I'm fucking addicted to you, and I still owe you one from going down on you but not completing the job.” 

I don't think I can get over this night. Any of this night. I don't think I can live my life without this anymore. 

Later, I watch his eyelids flutter closed. I hold him until his light snores begin. I count two more minutes. Then I gather my things, don my nightgown and cloak, and tip toe outside. No one sees me as I fly through the halls from the third floor Fourth Wing dorms, returning to my room in Second Wing’s. 

After changing into a new nightshirt and shorts, I sit on my bed and think it over. I touch my lips, then hips. I close my eyes and imagine his hands holding mine. I recall him whispering my name. He said before every inch inside me would be a death sentence and I understand what he meant now. There's no going back. 

I'm a little unsure about how it should all work now - will Bodhi be jealous if I go to see Liam? Do I want to see Liam now? Am I allowed to want that?

I wonder about that conundrum all morning, distracted at breakfast and formation, until Bodhi catches me outside Battle Brief, draws me in to an empty corridor, and tells me he wants me to experience more. He says he won't tell Liam it was my first time, but he tells me to be confident and remember they're both there for me.

It's a little confusing. I wonder if maybe he doesn't think I was good enough the other night, until I see the way his eyes darken from across the lunch hall when I whisper to Liam I'll see him tonight.

Then, I realise I only know a few things about Bodhi, and there's a strong chance the man might really enjoy sharing. Or, as I think later when I'm on my way to Liam's room, Bodhi's aware that he agreed to equal, and he needs to wait for his night...

Either way, I'm not complaining. I am really, really not complaining. And the idea of showing Liam what I've learnt is so enticing. 

Despite it being the night before the gauntlet, Liam is more than enthusiastic at my wanting to do more. Just like with Bodhi, I walk into his room and strip, but unlike Bodhi, I'm in his arms and bed within a minute - there's no arguing about wanting to talk.

"Thank fuck," he laughs, as I return to the position I left him in last week. "I thought you meant it was a no."

"No," I admit, "I just needed some advice." I smile and think of the book currently lying open on my bedside table. "Can I show you?"

"Fuck, Fenryn, yeah," he agrees.

I add straddling Liam's lap to the list of positions I really fucking enjoy, and I stay in his room until four-thirty, leaving once I've woken him with kisses and he's turned it into more.

Once again, I fly through the halls. This time, I shower first, then return to my own dorm to change, thoroughly satisfied and excited by what's to come after Threshing this weekend when I'll have more time to experience both men.

Maybe I'll explore something with my mouth next time. I already know I'll do that with Liam first. I'm just still over the moon that he didn't seem phased when I said I was a little more inexperienced than he was.

"I never would have guessed," he groaned when I told him this last night while rolling my hips and taking him deeper. 

There’s a knock at my door. It pulls me from the grin-inducing memory. It'll be Brisa and Mirabel, summoning me. We're all getting up early to help rally our first years who'll be running the gauntlet later. I can't wait to tell them about Liam after their excited reactions at finding out about Bodhi earlier in the week. 

"Keep your hair on," I laugh, pulling the door open.

The smile falls from my lips. 

Chapter Text

Not again. How? How can he have more for me!? 

“Major Varrish?” My voice stays surprisingly calm despite the fact my legs turn to jelly at the sight of him. And not in a good way. "To what do I owe this..." I don't know if I can say it, but somehow, I bite out the word - "pleasure?" 

“Cadet Zynd.” Varrish glances at my clothes, then his pale gaze meets mine. “As you are intent on flaunting the rules of the Codex, I believe it is time you answered for your longest misconduct." 

"Misconduct?" I ask, trying desperately to calm my breathing so I'll seem unaffected by him, while fear grips my heart. "What misconduct? And what do you mean longest?" 

Fuck. Is this how I'll die? Like Jacek, beaten to death in my room for some reason no one will find out? My name on the death scroll? At least I don't have a sibling to mourn me. Why haven't I read the fucking codex yet!? 

Varrish removes a piece of paper from his pocket. "According to this identification slip presented on your Conscription Day, you are twenty-two."

There's no hiding my racing heart or panting breaths. Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. "Yes, sir?" 

"It is a fake." 

I shake my head and feign ignorance. "I don't know what you mean. Is there some misspelling on my papers or something?" 

Please, Bodhi! Please have forged the papers right. 

Varrish's nostrils twitch. "I thought you would deny it. Which is why it's taken me a week from when you mentioned your dragon's age to now to bring this to your Wingleader for punishment."

"Wait, what?" I scoff. "Punishment? Why?" 

Varrish's mouth tightens. "Last week, you mentioned your dragon was twenty. Due to information I possess, I thought this was curious. I went looking in the entrance logs" - He brandishes the paper again - "and found these forged entry documents." 

It's so ridiculous, I laugh. Wrong move probably, but I can't stop it. "There are so many people here who present fake names here," I say, thinking of what Tân said. "Why are you bringing up a simple administration error with me?" 

For a split second, Varrish's face turns red. Then, it returns to pale white. The only thing which doesn't waver is the look in his eye... It's murderous.  

"Tân? TÂN!" I shout through our bond.

"I'm on my way, little one," she replies, sounding breathless, her voice curt. "I can't get inside. You'll need to meet me." 

“I told you, Zynd, not to lie to me again," Varrish sneers, lowering his voice. Today, at least, he's so sure in his justice he's not backing himself up with his usual squad of murderous third years. "I gave you a chance to do the right thing and cease all contact with marked ones. I have punished you twice for infractions. Forged entry documents is your third offence. Lie to me, and it will be worse. You aren't twenty-two, are you?" 

I force myself not to glance at my window. I know from experience the drop isn’t insurmountable. If Tân can get to me, I survive it. Or I could cling onto the rock face and climb down while I wait for her. "No, sir."

"How old are you, Zynd?" 

"Twenty, sir." 

"Which means you were nineteen when you arrived at Basgiath. The Codex is clear. You must present yourself from the first Conscription Day after your twentieth birthday. You were too young to pass your initial trials." 

"You're a bonded rider," Tân pants. I can feel her desperation. It seeps into my bones and I have to work hard to peel back her additional fear and box it up in my mind so I can focus on my own reactions. She must be far if she's not made it to me already. Fucking Chradh. 

"I've bonded to a dragon already," I say, repeating Tân as if this might help me. 

“Which is why you are being called now, and not during Threshing. Now, come with me," he commands, beckoning me out of my room. When I don't move, he places a hand on the hilt at his hip.  

Gods, no. I was right. This is how I die! 

My heart jumps to my throat. Nausea fills my belly. “Sir? I'm not—”

“Dressed? I don't think that will matter for the initial section of your punishment.” Varrish straightens. “There won't be much of an audience.” 

Fuck. Fuck. I can't even think of where we could be going. And I'm not a third year. I can't ward my door yet. Varrish knows this. He could just reach out and grab me. Or send his cronies in to end me. Why didn't I ask Bodhi to ward my door so no one could come in!?

"Fenryn, come out, now," Aura says. "Submit to your chain of command." Aura. She's here. She's here which means this isn't the day I die. 

I step outside my room and stare. The four Wingleaders stand at the two sides of the hallway, flanking the short walk to the stairwell - Aura, Aetos, Iris and Lyell. 

“Your punishment has been decided upon by the quorum of Wingleaders.” Varrish smiles his fucking cruel smile and I try not to throw up. "You will return to the trials you were too young to complete last year. You will run the parapet and the Gauntlet." 

“The parapet!?” Aura cries, turning her face quickly. “That's not part of the agreement.”

“She's not even dressed,” Lyell says over her. His thick brows descend over his eyes. “Beinhaven said-”

“I know what she said,” Varrish replies cooly. “Beinhaven decided upon the punishment. Not the attire.”

“That's unfair!" Aura's gaze darts from me to Varrish. “We chose the Gauntlet based on fulfilling the Codex rules, which includes full rider uniform. This is-”

“An unprecedented situation," Varrish interrupts. "As such, the punishment was agreed upon, allowed and extended by myself. If you would prefer for me to issue punishment, simply say the word.” 

“No,” Aetos says, eyes trained on the floor at my feet. “This will do.” He looks at Aura. “She'll run the parapet, then change into her rider uniform for the gauntlet. I know your cadets. She'll be fine, she just needs her boots.”

“No,” Varrish says calmly. “No boots. You know the rules, Aetos. You must cross in the attire you arrive in. Zynd has stepped from her room, which means she has arrived in what she is currently wearing.” 

“Oh my gods,” I whisper, slumping against the wall. 

“Oh come on. At least give her shoes,” Aura says, holding out a hand. 

Aura's brown eyes shine in the light. I think I understand her anger and unhappiness. She's always been an upholder of justice, and this doesn't feel like justice. 

“No,” Varrish replies, looking me up and down. “If Cadet Zynd cannot complete the parapet in what she presents herself in, she was not destined to be a rider.” 

Varrish straightens. His smile slips away as he looks at me, only to be replaced with a look that I fear. There's no malice. No anger. Just enjoyment. He's fucking enjoying the fear. I force myself to stand, though I stare at the wall just past his head. Gods I'm a coward. 

“Cadet Zynd," Varrish says, "you will have thirty minutes to cross the parapet, where you will change into your uniform and return for formation. After this time you will join the first years and run the Gauntlet to receive an official time. Or” — He smiles again and lowers his voice so only I can hear him — “you can forfeit right now and I can snap your neck.” 

I blink. “I choose the parapet and gauntlet,” I say as clearly as possible. "As per my Wingleader's decision which I believe to be fair and admirable." I add the last for Aura, so she knows I'm not angry with her. 

Varrish blinks twice, but doesn't speak. I hide my angry smirk - he feeds on fear, but in that moment I didn't sound fearful. 

"Let's go," Aura says, stepping into the middle of the hallway, "we need to do this before breakfast ends."

"One moment," Varrish says, his eyes still trained on me. He removes a vial from his pocket. "Cadet Zynd is still in touch with her dragon. No unfair advantages will be tolerated." He holds out the small vial. "Drink." 

"Tân?" I ask through our bond, hoping she's here. Gods, what if she's not here? 

"I am here, little one. Do not drink it," she says. 

"How far away are you?" 

Tân's silence tells me she's still too far away for me to jump out my window - any window - right now. 

"Will you be here in time to catch me if I fall off the parapet?" I ask, thinking of the 200 foot fall.

Again, silence. I can hear her snapping teeth and feel her anxiety rise, overflowing against the walls I've built in my head to keep her emotions out. So there's no way she'll catch me and take me on my way to Aretia or any kind of safety... Great. Which means if I fall and wake up, there's a chance Varrish might get to me first. 

"I will be there within the hour," Tân pants. "I am coming from near Elsum."

Varrish's hand closes around my throat, tearing me from my conversation with Tân. My mouth opens involuntarily as I gasp for air. Seizing the opportunity, he shoves the liquid into my mouth. I splutter and choke on it, but it goes down my throat and once it does, ice cold fear rushes from my feet to my head, making my body shake. 

"Tân?" I whimper, though I know she can hear me anymore. I didn't even get to say goodbye. 

"Which is your dominant arm?" Varrish asks.

Automatically, I say, "Left." I'm right handed, but I know from experience in the pits you should never tell people your true weaknesses. It's probably why I'm so good at lying. I've learnt the skill through necessity. 

Varrish's hands close around my arm, either side of my left elbow. He twists, pulling down. Sharp pain shoots up my arm. I let out a short squeal and grasp my elbow before controlling myself and swallowing the noise. 

It's not broken, I tell myself. My arm's not broken.

But it hurts. I cradle it to my body, trying to flex my hand as I walk. I'm flanked by the four Wingleaders, who take me across the bridge to the Healers Quadrant, then across to the stairs which lead to the parapet.

We arrive at the bottom of the stairs and my arm still hurts. Fuck, it hurts so much. I can tell it's just dislocated, but try as I might, I can't find the right angle to pop it back into place, and it's harder without Tân to guide me. It hurts more without her. And I know it won't heal. 

Varrish dismisses most of the Wingleaders despite Aura's insistence she stays with me. Instead, he leaves me with Aetos, who follows me up the long steps and out onto the turret, which is open to the elements. The restless wind makes my untied hair fly around, plastering it to my face and making goosebumps rise on my bare legs and arms. 

I stop still and try to hold my hair with one hand, but every time I get a handful, more hair is swept around. Letting out a few whine-filled and tearless sobs, I drop to a squat and try desperately to shield my head so I can try and make a one handed braid. 

"Cadet," Aetos says behind me. 

"Just fucking give me a second, please!" I yell, grabbing furiously at my curls. 

My hand is wrenched away from my head and I brace it on the ground, ready to say something about hair not being in the Codex rules. 

Unfamiliar hands sink into my curls and I fight to stay still as Aetos braids my hair with strong and seemingly practiced movements. Blinking furiously, I rise and turn to look at him once he's finished.

"There's nothing in the Codex about hair," he says. 

For a split second I want to hug him and thank him for his help. Then, my gaze is caught on the landscape and I remember the sheer drop waiting for me, and his closeness to Varrish. 

Tân always says my last words in this world matter. They'll only be heard by one dragon. In my case, one person. And I know Tân would want me to be brave if she's not here, so I turn back to Aetos when I reach the edge of the long stone parapet and spit out, “Fuck you," even though he helped me with my hair.  

Aetos’s jaw twitches. “I'm doing this to help you.”

“Are you?" I look back at the parapet. "Or are you doing it to get rid of me, like they got rid of Ciaran? And Masen? And are trying to get rid of Sorrengail?”

A line appears between Aetos's brows. “You don't understand what you're talking about.” 

"Why do people keep saying that!?" I ask Tân, even though she's not there. I scoff at Aetos. “So it's just a coincidence all the people who they sent to Abertyne are dying,” I snap. “Oh don't look at me like that. Just because Septon was loyal to his Wing and bent the truth for me doesn't mean I'm protected now. And I know you know what I'm talking about. If you didn't, they wouldn't have told me to stay away from you under all circumstances. And Varrish wouldn't trust you enough to bring me up here without bending the rules.” 

Aetos’s face pales, but his cheeks turn red. He takes a miniscule step back. “I didn't know you were there.” 

“Didn't you?"

"No."

"I just assumed because you're a Wingleader but not fucking acting like one, you did," I snap.

My mind goes back to saving Deigh at Resson. The last time I truly felt powerful. Maybe if I saved Deigh, I can walk the parapet in my bare feet. 

"I'm not acting like a Wingleader?" he asks. His nostrils flare. I've riled him up. 

"No. You're acting like Varrish's puppet.”

“What did you say?” Aetos grabs my jaw and stares into my eyes. “I follow the rules of the Codex, not Varrish's rules."

Grabbing his hand, I wrench it down and away from my face, ignoring his slack jaw and wide eyes. “Said every person who couldn't look themselves in the mirror," I snap. "So fuck you, Aetos. When I slip, don't you fucking dare commend my soul to Malek. You stand there and listen to my dragon screaming her heart out when she comes for my body. Then go and tell Varrish and your dad the job’s done, like the little lapdog you are.” 

I snarl at him, then turn and begin to edge out onto the parapet. It's slippery. It must have rained in the night. My heart jumps to my throat where it sits, pounding uncomfortably, and stopping me from breathing. 

Another slide of my foot.  

Another. 

My heel slips and a rush of tingles spreads through my body as I try and right myself. 

Fuck. 

Arms out, Zynd, I tell myself. Yeah, Like that's going to fucking work with one injured. "Oh Tân, if you can hear me, I love you."

A hand closes around my right wrist. Another around my waist.

A scream tears itself from my chest as I'm pulled back into the archway. 

Aetos slams me against the wall. My chest rises and falls in a jagged rhythm. My sobs fill the air. I was warned against him, but I never thought he'd kill me himself.

“What are you doing?” I ask, when he squats and picks up my ankle. 

“Helping,” he says, forcing my foot into a boot. It's not a hard task — they're about three sizes too big. And they're warm. 

“Are these yours?” I hiss, gaze darting to the entrance to the turret, in case Varrish is there, watching. He's not. 

Aetos looks up at me. “Yours. Until you get to the other side. Take them off when you get to the archway. Leave them where no one will see.” 

My breath catches in my throat. My legs shake. “I can't. If Varrish finds out he'll throw me off himself.” 

“He's not inntinnsic, so he won't find out.” Aetos stands and looks down at me. “This isn't the day you die, Zynd.”

“Why not?" I whisper, searching his eyes. "Why are you helping me? 

He blinks and looks away before I can work out what emotion swirls in the brown of his iris.

"You touched me," I whisper. "What does that mean?” Garrick told me not to let Aetos touch me. He's never had a chance or inclination until now.  

Aetos looks over his shoulder, then back at me. “That's classified.” 

“Aetos.” My hands fly to my face and I trace where he held my jaw. “What is your signet?” 

He blinks at me. "You really don't know."

I shake my head. "I'm not Sorrengail. I mean nothing so they tell me nothing."

Two lines appear on his forehead. “I know what you did at Resson. I know you healed a” - His nose twitches and his brow furrows further, like he can't quite believe what he's about to say - "dragon.” 

My breathing turns erratic again. Visions of the interrogation chamber fill my mind. “Please don't tell them. You know what they'll do to me if they find out. Varrish is doing this because I'm only twenty. It'll be so much worse, and I want to die in the light. Please." 

Aetos lowers his chin and shakes his head. “I won't tell anyone. Because Wingleaders protect and prepare their riders.” 

“You're not my Wingleader," I spit out, pushing myself further back into the wall, until the I feel the rough surface cut into my back. "You have no loyalty to me." 

“I will be, after this. If you can do that now, imagine what you could do in two years. I know what it's like to have a signet that's coveted. That's warped for their use. I'm going to ask Aura to have you transferred. You can't protect yourself on your own, and Aura can't protect you either.” 

What? I shake my head. “You think that won't add to the target on my back?” I hiss. 

“Maybe not, but it'll make it easier for Durran to protect you.”

I blink and my scant breath catches in my throat. “What else did you see?” 

“Nothing. Just the dragon."

"Then why Durran?"

"He's the only Section Leader who was present at Resson. He protects Violet. He'll protect you."

Maybe... Fuck. No. Stop considering it. "Mending Deigh... That was months ago," I say, unable to keep the emotion from clogging my throat. "You can see that far back?” 

"Not usually. You were thinking about it and I caught a glimpse." He bites his lip. "Of that, and... running water."

Malek's river. Fuck. "That's not what you think." 

“Cross the parapet, Cadet Zynd," he says, putting on his commanding Wingleader voice. "You're running out of time." 

“I'm not joining Fourth Wing," I say. "I'm Second Wing until I die. Which might be in two steps. Maybe fifteen. But you can't take that from me." 

Aetos sighs. “That's what I said, before I was switched with Aura. And now I'm Fourth."

"Second. Wing. Until. I. Die," I say, each word both strong and shaking. 

Aetos nods. "On your head be it. But cross the parapet. Now."

I look down at the overly large boots on my feet, then at his black socks. “How can I trust you?” I ask quietly, trying to work out why I do... Because I do trust him. He gave me his boots. But it makes no sense.

“You can't," he answers. "But you don't have another choice. And I want my boots back.” 

With a nod, I look out across the way. "At least it's not raining this time," I say, though my momentary relief is swept away by the strong wind. 

"You've done it before. Arms out," Aetos says. 

I laugh bitterly. "With this thing?" I ask, holding up my injured arm. "He dislocated my fucking elbow." 

Aetos moves to touch me and I jump out onto the parapet. Maybe I don't trust him completely after all.

"I'm just going to pop it back into place," he hisses, looking around. 

"I'm not taking that chance," I answer, stepping further out. "There's a reason they told me not to touch you, and now you know my darkest secret. Don't touch me again or you'll have a knife through your heart while your skin is still on mine." 

Aetos raises a brow, but there's no hiding the way pink spreads over his neck, rising to his chin. "That's fair," he says, nodding. "Just for future reference, it's usually a face touch," he says, looking at his hands. "I won't be able to see anything if I give you a hand up, for instance."

I nod. "That's... useful to know. Thank you." Frowning, I edge along the parapet. "How long do I have?" I ask, eyeing the route. 

"Just over twenty minutes," Aetos replies. "I'll meet you at the other side. Just make sure you hide my boots or we're both done." 

I nod and start walking. 

"Zynd?" he shouts. I turn, and he says, "I'm trusting you not to share my secret too." 

Chapter Text

Gasping, I reach the other side of the parapet and slide the overly large boots from my feet. I tie the laces, then secure them to a brick as high up as I can.

I tell Tân everything I'm doing. She can't hear me, but I still talk to her. I can't not. She's part of me. And I know she'd be proud of where I hid the boots. 

They might fall in a few hours, but that'll be enough time for Aetos to remove them. I hope.

I'm not sure why I trust Aetos's word. Desperation I guess, but I do, and I think I might just make it to the gauntlet. And I know the gauntlet. Even with an injured arm, I reckon I could give it a fair crack.

At least this way I'll see Cohen before I die. 

Aura leads me back to my room and I change as quickly as I can with only one arm. Then we return to formation. I can't tell if she's angry, disappointed, or a combination, but she doesn't say anything to me as we walk, and she doesn't come into my room. 

I keep reaching out for Tân, but she's not there. It's so odd this time. Even worse than interrogation, as I know I'm around so many people who are connected to their dragons, while I'm not. I hate it.

I wish I could say goodbye, so I repeat in my head, "I love you, my love," and "Chradh had better be worth it," and "I told you I would die once I'd had sex. Now I've done everything." 

"I thought we were going to have breakfast with the cadets," Mirabel whines when I join her. "Or did your fun night take precedence?" 

Brisa nudges me with her elbow. "You weren't in your room this morning..." 

"Just needed a walk," I half-lie, holding my elbow where Brisa nudged me innocently. I still can't find the sweet spot to push it back in, and it's getting more painful with every knock.

"Yeah, well we missed you at breakfast so you owe us lunch," Cohen says with a grin. 

"I love you," I say to him. 

"Aww someone's feeling sentimental," Cohen laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I love you too, Fenny." 

"Dick," I say, punching him in the side. He knows he's not allowed to call me that.

"Fen," Tomas says, rolling his eyes. "Don't harm him before the gauntlet. We're meant to be putting on a united front for the first years, remember?" 

"Sorry Tomas," Cohen and I chant.

We're some of the first to line up for formation, so I watch Aetos closely, waiting for him to say something to Varrish about helping me on the parapet, but he doesn't. Instead, before Varrish begins speaking and while Third Wing are still finding their places, Aetos walks over to Bodhi, who seems disinterested at first.

I see Bodhi shift his feet and roll his shoulders back. But as Aetos speaks, Bodhi's head snaps round, eyes searching Second Wing. I turn and stare straight in front, so I won't catch his eye. 

Bodhi finds me right after formation, his hand closing around my uninjured bicep. "Ryn," he breathes. "Aetos said..." He trails off as he takes in my limp arm. "Fuck, he wasn't lying."

I stare at my feet. I don't want to look at Bodhi's face in case it breaks me. "There's nothing you can do," I hiss. "Varrish is doing this because of you, so just don't." I pull my arm from his grip and dash to catch up with my squad. 

Still, Bodhi catches me again when we're crowding around the entrance to the quadrant. He presses his chest to my back and leans down to whisper in my ear, "Cuir is near. If anything happens, he'll get to you." 

"There's no point," I say, dropping to 'tie' my laces so we won't be seen by Varrish from behind. Bodhi does the same. "Varrish made me drink the RSC concoction. I can't hear Tân right now. She can't help me if I fall."

"Fuck," Bodhi breathes. "Ryn, I'm so-"

"Don't you fucking dare say sorry," I snap, finally looking at him over my shoulder. "You say that word and it'll be my death sentence. Save it for after the gauntlet." It's ironic for me to say, since I keep saying goodbye to Tân, but I'm saying it in my head. Saying it out loud makes it real somehow.

Bodhi's throat bobs. "Yeah, baby, I can do that." 

Turning back to the front, I rise and walk past Liam. He's standing by the archway, arms crossed at his chest. As I pass, he does a double take, but I leave without so much as a glance. It was hard enough seeing the expression on Bodhi's face, let alone if I see it in Liam's. 

I stop at the bathing room to throw up, then continue on my journey to the gauntlet. I'm down a corridor near the entrance when I hear my name.

"Fenryn." I turn at the voice. Liam. A line mars his perfect forehead. "What's wrong?" 

My eyes search his but I find none of the worry that I saw in Bodhi's, nor the reservation or even an ounce of fear. He must not know what's happened. He's just worried I walked past him without a word after the night we spent together.

This is what I need. I need a slice of normality. I cross the two steps to reach him and slip my arms around his middle, pressing my face to his leather vest. His arms close around my shoulders, holding me tightly.

Safe. I feel safe.

Which means, I can't tell him. 

I step back. His sky blue eyes dart over my face and I long to lean in and kiss him, but I can't give myself that or I might get distracted. So I choose to distract him instead.

"How's Sloane? Feeling prepared?" I lean round Liam to see his sister, who's just a few paces behind him, her arms crossed. Her blonde hair is tied into a plait today. Good. That's good. It won't get caught on anything. I wave, and her mouth tilts up at the side. 

"What's wrong?" he asks again. 

"Nothing." Pinpricks flood over my eyes and nose, making tears well in my eyes. Scrunching my nose doesn't help, nor does blinking them away. I guess the game is up. I can't really hide the way water drips down my face as my traitorous tear ducts overflow. "Er, I hurt my arm." 

Liam takes my arm so carefully, I have to purse my lips and allow them to tug down at the sides in order to stop myself from crying more. Still, another tear escapes. I wipe it away and sniff loudly. 

"Fenryn," he says, cradling my arm, "this isn't hurt, it's... it's..." 

"Yeah," I laugh humourlessly, "well, seems like Varrish knows what he's doing in the joint department."

"What?" Liam snaps. I duck my head and shift my arm. He holds tight. "I'm sorry." Placing a hand on the back of my neck, he guides me back into his embrace and I melt into him. 

"Are you okay?" Sloane asks, touching my shoulder. 

I nod, looking at her from her brother's arms. "Yeah." I step back and squeeze her hand. "Er, look..." I say, trying to keep my voice level, "if this is the last time I see you, just make sure you have a good time today, okay? It's not all that bad and as long as you don't have a bad arm like me, you'll be fine." 

"Here," Liam says, taking my arm again. "It might hurt a little but you'll heal soon enough." With that he twists my arm and pops it back into the socket. 

Fuck. The momentary pain drives me to my knees. I stumble and stand with Sloane's arms around my waist.

"Thank you," I gasp. "Tân's not around right now, so it'll be a while before it'll heal." 

"Not a problem," Liam says. He proceeds to tear the sleeves off my shirt and wraps my arm as if he's done this before. Once he's finished, he places a kiss over the bandage. "For luck," he says, smiling. "Do you know how long until Tân's back?" 

I shake my head. "Varrish gave me the RSC concoction so it's not so much she's not around as I can't access her."

"He what?" Liam snarls. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches, ridding his face of that gorgeous lopsided and dimpled smile I love so much. 

"Zynd! Time to line up!" I look over at Aura, who stands with Tomas. 

"You're going to watch?" Liam shakes his head. "If Tân's not with you, you need to get this Mended. I'll take you." 

It's not customary for the second and third years to watch the gauntlet run, so I do understand his confusion. And I don't want to be the one to tell him. "I can't. I told Aura I'd be there. I'll go after, okay?"

Smiling, I place my hand on Sloane's shoulder, guiding her toward the gauntlet starting line. 

"You're not watching, are you?" she asks in a small voice when we reach the Second Wing squad and I take my place at the front of Second Squad, Flame Section. I'm distracted from answering by Varrish, who steps into view and beckons me on, making me stand with Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second Squad. 

This confirms it to me. Each and every time I've been punished, it's not been for me. The way Varrish's eyes twinkle as he looks at Bodhi who stands at the top of the gauntlet... This isn't a punishment for me, it's a punishment for Bodhi. That's why I'm going to fall with his cadets. It's a warning. 

I have to watch as one of the cadets in my squad falls.

But Cadet Jancler, who I first saw shaking in her boots at the edge of the mat on assessment day makes me proud by completing the course in under fifty minutes. Her fastest time to date. My heart stutters when I think there's a strong chance I'll never tell her how well she did. 

I can feel Sloane's eyes on the back of my head for the entire wait.

Varrish is crueller than I ever took him for, as he commands that Sloane's squad, who I'm with, run last. We step over to the side and wait as the remaining squads in Fourth Wing Flame Section and Claw Section complete the routes.

By the time we're finally called to take our places, I can barely think of anything other than Malek's dark river rushing and thundering, ready to take me off to the afterlife. 

The hope I had in my heart has gone. I just have to try my best, but who knows if it'll be enough?  

I'm called first.

My heart jumps to my throat. Nausea fills my belly. My legs walk to the starting point without me even noticing I'm moving. I thought I could do this, but even wrapped, my arm kills.

The wind strengthens around me as I jump from structure to structure.

I keep reminding myself, my body knows this route. It was drummed into me last year during practice for my original attempt. Only, a voice in my head pipes up and reminds me that I had two working arms last year. I haven't practiced this route with a handicap, so while I manage to get past the spinning log, granite pillars, and spinning wheel, it's the series of five iron balls that get me.

The balls are slippery from the damp, rising mist. I jump wrong and have to grab hold of the chains with my left arm, but a cold rush runs through my body when my elbow slams against the ball, and in my shock, my foot slips, driving me sideways towards the gauntlet wall. 

It's just a split second while I get used to the pain in my arm, but that's all the gauntlet needs.

I try to compensate and grasp the ball, but my knees can't find purchase on the round iron sides.

My body is dragged down by my weight, sliding despite the grippy leather covering my legs.

The ropes on the gauntlet wall are six feet apart, but the one closest to me is the one on my left. I reach out for it but my injured hand can't close properly in time, and with a scream, I fall.

The wind rushes past my face. 

Tân’s distant roar fills my ears.

Chapter Text

Bodhi

I always thought the view from the bottom of the gauntlet was the worst. But up here? Watching Ryn stand in front of the iron balls waiting to jump? This is worse.

I want to run down those fucking stairs, sweep Ryn up in my arms and take her to my bedroom in Aretia.

I want to wash the cuts on her hands and get her arm Mended.

I want to see her wrapped in my sheet again.

I want to lather her body in kisses and licks until she finishes on my tongue this time, pulls my hair, and tells me to make love to her. 

And what am I doing instead? Standing here, watching her run. My only solace is it's not my decision. It's Tân's orders. And Cuir's. And Deigh's.

And Ryn is just as free spirited and stubborn as her dragon, which means if Liam or I scooped her up, she'd give us shit for it. She'd never forgive me. 

A movement in the depths below catches my eye for a split second.

"It's Tân," Liam says beside me. 

"She is waiting for her rider," Cuir growls.

Liam arrived after Ryn started her run. He's not meant to be here. I started to argue with Aetos about Liam being my responsibility, but for some reason today "by-the-Codex" Aetos doesn't seem to care.

Maybe he wants us to put in a good word with Vi. Or he thinks Liam's here to watch Sloane. But Sloane's already forbidden anyone from watching her run, just in case something happens. She thinks no one should have to watch their sibling die and if any of us see it, our dragons could share the memory with Liam. 

I have to agree with that. After being forced to watch your parents murdered in a storm of fire, something like seeing your sister die on a gauntlet would be brutal.

Liam

The breath leaves my body in one exhale when Fenryn's scream fills the air. My legs almost fall out from under me, but I stay upright. Bodhi recovers a little slower. Tân's roar covers Fenryn's cry a moment later.

No. No. NO. NO! In my head, I roar. I punch. I lunge at Varrish and rip him to pieces. I set Deigh on him. I burn him. I break him. 

Then my gaze catches a golden halo of blonde hair in the remaining squad below. I gasp. I can't do something so stupid as mounting Deigh and saving Fenryn like she saved me all those months ago, because I have Sloane to think of. And what did Fenryn say to me just weeks ago? She said I was lucky to have a sister to protect. 

Shit. 

I clench my jaw to stop the urge to bring up my hasty breakfast. I don't know if Fenryn can heal if she falls from the gauntlet. I'm sure she can't. And something's been going wrong with her connection to Tân recently — she needed Nolon to mend her after the mat. That fucking mat. She still won't let me explain why I was late. She's so fucking stubborn. Gods, I love it. But what if healing Deigh after Resson left her vulnerable? And… gods. My breakfast rears its head again and I choke it down. 

If Tân didn't catch her...

Bodhi

My stomach drops. Ice fills my veins. My mind whirrs to a stop. My chest tightens.

In another life, I would be racing to her, climbing down, fucking running backwards down the gauntlet, and fuck anyone who gets in my way. Except... In another life, she wouldn't be down there at all... And in this life I've seen more than anyone's fair share of death.

My jaw firms. In my mind, behind my carefully constructed mask, my roar joins Tân's.

I suck in a breath which fails to fill my lungs. I swallow and straighten, forcing myself into the mental space I know so well. I cut off my emotions and turn to stone. 

There's nothing we can do from here. Liam and I both square our shoulders. I focus on the gauntlet, but I don't look further down. Liam could see where Ryn fell if he wanted to, but his eyes stare out at the landscape beyond.

This isn't the first time we've lost someone. But the first time together. And the first time losing someone who means so much to both of us. Someone who we've both failed more than this once. 

"Fuck," I breathe.

"She'll be fine," Liam assures me, though he saw her fall just like I did, and he still doesn't look down. "Tân will have caught her."

But Cuir isn't answering my calls. Which means he thinks she's dead.

"I'm asking Tân," Cuir snaps. "Be patient. She is as quiet as always today. She's not answering Deigh either."

"When does she ever answer Deigh?"  

"You'd be surprised." 

Liam and I wait together for five minutes. Ten. Until Sloane walks up to the gauntlet and we both have to go, because we promised her we wouldn't watch.

Fenryn

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. 

I chant the words in my head until my lungs yield to the command and suck in the cool, misty air. 

My right hand aches under the pressure of holding my top half up, while my feet find grooves to dig into on the rock face. 

My body might not be ready to run the gauntlet with one arm, but I'm a climber. And it's not the first time I've had to climb with only one arm.

The pits were - are - a lot bigger than they sound. It's a whole city of debauchery, and Plath and I had a lot of dodging to do while there. I used to carry stolen food under one arm while climbing to the highest point weekly.

My foot slips on the sheer rock, sending a jolt of ice down my spine. I find another foothold and look up. After falling off the iron ball, it took all the strength I had to grab onto the wall, and even then I slipped further. Now I'm shielded from view by the wooden platform which begins the gauntlet.

There's no way of telling how much time I have left of the hour allocated for my gauntlet run apart from my own estimation. By the time the third cadet in Sloane's squad starts, running past where I hold on for dear life without noticing me, I reckon I've wasted about five minutes.

Fuck me, they're fast this year. 

By the time Sloane starts, I think I've wasted ten minutes total. I only have about forty left to complete the gauntlet if I want to get back into Varrish's 'good' books.

If I even want to complete it. 

"That doesn't look like a fun holiday." Sloane's sweet voice fills my ears and makes me chuckle. 

I look up to see her standing at the edge of the gauntlet, waiting her turn.

"Yeah, well, I've got a lot to think about," I reply.

She's the first person who's noticed me, and I appreciate her doing so. Maybe she'll have farsight like Liam. The thought makes me chuckle. 

"Well don't hang around all day," Sloane calls. "You don't want to miss all the fun." 

This draws a proper laugh from me, and I begin to forget the bad ache in my fingertips and my wrapped elbow. 

"Wouldn't it be better if I just dropped?" I ask, leaning back to estimate the fall. "I could just run away."

I know Tân is waiting somewhere down there, hidden by the rising mist. Occasionally she'll make a sound to tell me she's ready when needed. 

"True, but you wouldn't be able to hear your dragon, would you?" Sloane asks.

I contemplate this for a long moment, then my eyes widen and my gaze snaps back to her. "You're not meant to know about the RSC drink," I hiss. "It's classified." 

Sloane smiles down at me, her blue eyes twinkling. "I reckon I need all the help I can get. Xaden didn't really bank on some of us not being trained by the time we arrived at Basgiath."

I hum. Not much I can say to that. Liam told me Riorson cut some kind of deal for all 107 of the marked ones, but he didn't say more and I wasn't about to force the issue. Not when I had my hands on his chest.

I'm thinking on this when Sloane says, "It's my turn. Meet me at the balls?" 

"My arm's fucked," I say, shaking my head. "I can't climb that fast and I sure as Malek can't get past those fucking balls."

"Sorry, do we let a small thing like a dislocated elbow stop us from running the gauntlet?" Sloane asks. 

I let out a breath of a laugh. "Fuck no," I whisper.  

Someone shouts Sloane's name again, beckoning her on. "So what do we do?" she calls down to me. 

"We fucking climb," I say, my voice louder and clearer than before. I look up at her and nod. "Yeah, Sloane. We fucking climb. I'll meet you at the balls."

"Race you there," she says with a grin.

Oh now she's done it. A race. Plath and I used to race each other all the time in the pits, her using the stairs, me climbing. It spurs me on, and I begin in earnest, covering the sheer rockface quicker than I could have wished. The competition even stops me from focusing on the worry that if I fell and Tân didn't catch me, I really would die this time. 

I'm so focused, I can't even hear Malek's river rushing in my ears, I can just hear the thundering beat of my heart.

Finally, with a roaring cry, I throw myself from the rock and leap to the small gravel path that leads up to the iron balls. I land on the path, skidding and barely holding on. Standing, I turn my head and grin at Sloane who's behind me. She narrows her sparkling blue eyes at me, though the sides of her mouth tip up. 

"Hurry up, some of us have Threshing to get to," she quips. 

My mouth drops open. "Excuse me. That's in two days time. You have presentation first."

"Exactly," she laughs, "so I don't have all day. Hurry up, old woman." 

My mouth falls open. "I'm younger than you are!" I cry, laughing as I start walking to the swinging iron balls. 

"Yeah, well your knees are obviously giving out. You won't catch me slipping."  

"I'll get you back for that one," I chuckle.

I know what she's doing, and it's working. Thank fuck it's working. If I wasn't half in love with her brother I would turn around and kiss her for her being such a wonderful person, but I am, so I stick my tongue out at the thought. Yuck. 

I clear the iron balls and land on the gravel path. Instead of holding on to the bars that come next, I grab on with one hand, wrap my legs around the bar, and shimmy along one armed. At the middle sections, I swing my body onto the next section and continue. 

The rolling logs are much easier, as there's not much I need my arms for. Same with the structure I need to shimmy up. I have enough strength in my long legs to keep me moving. Thank fuck.

The one I'm slightly concerned about is the running jump up the vertical ramp. It's not so much I can't do it, as it's more that I know Sloane is right behind me and if I miss grabbing on to the top, the drop will send me back down and I might flatten her or worse, push her off. 

I needn't have worried. I grab hold of the lip with my good hand and pull myself up, rolling onto my back when I reach the top.

Aetos and his executive officer are the only people up here now. When he sees me, his eyes widen and he checks his watch. 

"Well done Zynd," Aetos says with a large smile. "Well done." 

I punch the sky and roll over a few times so when Sloane appears, she can scramble up without having to climb over me. She comes to rest at my side and starts to laugh. 

I join her and we lie there, laughing until she wraps her arms around my shoulders and then we're laughing and hugging and once again, like with Plath, with Tân, I feel it - I feel like I've found home. My heart lightens. 

"I was the last cadet," Sloane says, helping me sit up. 

"So we're done?" I ask. 

She nods. "We're done." She pulls something out of her pocket. It's my little carving of Tân. I gave it to her two days ago for good luck on her run. I cradle it to my chest and before Aetos can see, I slide it into my vest. "Walk with me?" she asks.

"No, this is your moment," I say, shaking my head.

The walk from the top of the gauntlet through the dark tunnel that leads to the flight fields is something you're meant to only do once. The feel of walking out and hearing the thundering roar of claps and cheers from the riders who came before you is unmatched by much other than the feel of bonding and presenting your dragon at Threshing.  And straight after this, Sloane will be presented to the dragons. The most important single file walk of her life. I shouldn't take any part of this from her. 

Aetos walks over, his boots stopping near us. It's odd, thinking I was wearing those just a few hours ago.

"Right, Zynd," Aetos says, "you've officially run the gauntlet in under an hour. Mairi... I'm sorry, but you'll have to tell your brother he's not the only gauntlet patch wearer in the family." 

"What?" Sloane cries, staring open mouthed at Aetos, then at me. "But how?"

Aetos shrugs. "As your Wingleader I'm over the moon. You're built of stern stuff, Mairi. Now, Zynd's right. You should do the walk yourself. Not many candidates find out they won the patch so soon after their run. Enjoy it." 

Sloane leaps up and practically runs down the dark tunnel. Aetos and I wait until we hear the roar of cheers, then I stand and we walk together. 

"When can I be with Tân again?" I ask, beckoning him to go into the dark first. Just like last year, this is my least favourite part.

"Still don't trust me?" he asks, stepping in front. 

"Not completely," I reply. 

"Grady and Varrish are waiting on the other side. Grady has the antidote."

"What if they've already gone?" I ask, when the light becomes blinding and I have to hold my hand over my eyes to shield them. 

"They won't have," Aetos says, "Varrish is waiting for me to report how you died. He'll be there." 

Fuck. For a second I forgot Aetos was in Varrish's pocket. I must be getting soft in my old age. I halt for two steps, then continue on, putting much needed space between us. 

"And Durran?" I ask. "He was up here, wasn't he?" 

Aetos makes an affirmative noise. "He and Mairi waited until Sloane Mairi's run, then they left." 

I stop walking completely. Sloane told them she didn't want them to watch. She told me that at training last week. So why were they both there?

Oh. Liam and Bodhi waited. For me.

And if they waited until Sloane's run, it means they waited as long as they could.

I touch my lips and try to control the tears that pool in my eyes. 

They waited. 

Tân was below me. They were above me. I wasn't alone. 

My momentary elation turns to confusion as we exit the tunnel and find a small group crowded around Sloane, grinning and clapping and cheering. Liam and Bodhi both look completely unaffected by the idea that I might have fallen. And if Sloane hasn't told them I'm alive yet, it means they've just put me into the category of 'dead and forgotten'. I think I'm wrong, but then I notice neither of them look my way. 

Fun. 

"Cadet Zynd?" Grady says. 

I turn my face and try not to grin at the sight of Varrish's smile vanishing from his face. 

"Major Varrish, Professor Grady," I greet, immediately taking the antidote from Grady and downing it in one. 

The re-bond is instantaneous. "Little one." Tân's relief is everything. It seeps into my bones, lightening my entire body until I think I could fly. 

"My love." Tilting my face to the sun, I close my eyes and embrace Tân through our bond. 

"They were also affected by your loss," Tân says simply. "I will tell Cuir and Deigh to-"

"No," I interrupt. My gaze is drawn to Liam and Bodhi in turn, who stand on the edge of the group around Sloane. I notice now the way Liam's hands are curled into fists around a small carving and his usual modelling knife, and Bodhi's feet shift a little more than usual. "I'll tell them. You're not a carrier dragon. And there's something I need to do first. Something we both need to do." 

Blinking furiously, I turn back to Varrish. "Sir," I say, soaking my words with reverence, "my loyalty is to Basgiath above all else. My dragon's as well. I have made mistakes, but I understand my actions affect more than just myself, and I will make sure to yield to any and all rules from now on. Thank you for giving me this chance to prove myself." 

Varrish's cold eyes narrow at me, but I keep my face as open as possible and try not to show him any weakness. I have to hope he, just like Bodhi, can't tell when I'm lying.

"Well done, little one," Tân says when Varrish nods once and leaves, taking Grady and Aetos with him. 

"One day I might just kill that man," I say. 

Tân growls her approval. "And I will kill his dragon." 

"I thought that was illegal in the dragon sphere," I say with a frown. 

Her chuffing laughter makes me smile. "You have more knowledge of the rulebook of dragons than of your human Codex." 

"Humans are boring," I reply truthfully. "And I asked Liam about it after you mentioned it last. I was confused why Tairn hadn't killed Solas yet." 

Tân growls. "Deigh offers too much of our ways to his rider." 

"Says you."

"You are special, little one. You are mine and I am yours." 

The squads are lining up for Presentation when I finally feel ready to approach the two men who I don't want to give up, but definitely need to.

Bodhi walks along his Flame Section, checking numbers. Liam stands with Sloane, saying something to her. Sprinting, I reach her side and wrap my uninjured arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a one armed hug. 

"Fenryn," Liam says, loud enough that I hear Bodhi's boots halt and turn behind me, crunching gravel underneath. 

"Ryn." 

"Tell them I can't speak to them," I say to Tân despite my want to reach out and drag both of them to Bodhi's room so we can repeat the massage from a few weeks ago. "Not with Varrish watching."

"Already done, little one," Tân replies. "They will stay back until you call for them, but both retain the right to stare." 

I don't look at either Liam or Bodhi, but release Sloane and smile down at her, trying not to laugh at the two sets of eyes I feel boring into the side of my face. I raise my voice so Liam and Bodhi, who I hear move closer, can hear. "Thank you for saving my life. If it weren't for you, I probably would have just clung onto that cliff for the foreseeable." 

"Just tell Tân to introduce me to that dragon she knows," Sloane says with a wink. "That'll even us out." 

Damn she's cool.

"I will. I like her," Tân says, snapping her teeth.

"She says she will. Look, I can't train with you anymore," I say, hoping Liam and Bodhi understand this is for them as well as Sloane. "I'm on my final chance and marked ones are off limits. If I'm seen with you after today... any of you..." 

Sloane's smile drops. She sighs. "I understand."

"Good luck," I say. "Remember what I said at the start of the year? Don't be a dick and you'll be alright. And for Threshing, remember, the green ones are the best." 

Liam scoffs and I smile at the sound. 

"Then again," I say, "doesn't matter what colour they are. When Liam carves yours, it'll be brown anyway."  

"Still have yours?" she asks. 

I nod and pat my chest, where the small sculpture of Tân is hidden in my vest. "It'll protect me every night." I step back and wink. "And well done again for the Gauntlet patch. Two Mairis in two years!" 

"Sloane," Liam says with a gobsmacked laugh. 

As I suspected, red blooms on Sloane's cheeks. She whacks Liam on the arm and curls her lip at him playfully, before turning back to me. "I haven't told anyone yet," she says with a shy smile. "I realised I was following you the whole way. It's your patch." 

"No way. You were motivating me," I reply, shaking my head. "You're incredible. You pushed me to my limit and didn't even break a sweat. You're badass, Sloane. I owe you my life." 

With that, I run past Bodhi. Don't look back, I tell myself. I reach my first years and wrap my good arm around Cohen's waist. "I have had the worst day," I say, resting my head on his shoulder. 

Cohen rolls his eyes and hugs me into his side. "You're not getting out of getting me lunch later." 

I groan and throw my head back. "Damn it." 

Chapter Text

"How did he know?" Tomas asks. He stands by the window in our little common room, hands clasped behind his back, gaze focused on the storm outside. He's never looked more like a leader. And he's ours. 

I waited until after Threshing to tell my squad what happened, and why it happened. I finished speaking minutes ago. Tomas broke the silence with the very question I've been trying to answer.

"I don't know," I mumble, drawing my blanket up to my chin. Cohen's arm tightens around my shoulders and Brisa squeezes my good hand. Mirabel's hand closes inexplicably around my ankle and I can't help my giggle. 

"There was nowhere left to touch," Mirabel whispers, rubbing my leg and rolling her eyes. "Unless you want me to grab your bad arm?" 

Smirking, I rub my foot against her leg, which makes her laugh, but she hugs my calf and leans her head on my knee. "Well done strong legs," she says, "you did very well on that climb." 

Cohen and I retch at the same time and I move my leg away from Mirabel, who laughs again. 

"I knew you were younger than us, but not that young," Cohen sighs. "I swear to you it wasn't me. Must have been Gayl. She had this theory you're the same age as your dragon." 

Gayl. The last thing she did before she died was speak to Varrish. And he enjoys collecting weaknesses. "I guess that tracks," I say. 

Unless it was the marked ones, I think bitterly.

"It was not," Tân growls, surprising me with the ferocity of her tone. "They have kept your secret." 

"You don't know that they have," I say slowly, frowning and thinking of the number of first years I told. I trust Liam and Bodhi and even Imogen despite not knowing her well, but I didn't see half the faces of the first years. It could have been any one of them. "What about the unbonded ones." 

"They have not." Tân snaps her teeth. Her tone is so severe, I lower my head in deference despite her not being here. 

"Sorry," I mutter. 

"I am... Distressed," Tân replies. Her breath is scant and I wonder if she's pacing. She sounds like she is, and I can feel her agitation. I struggle to put the sandstone bricks in place to keep her emotions from overriding mine.  

Sitting up in my chair, I close my eyes and place a palm to my forehead so everyone will know I'm speaking to Tân. "What is it?" 

"Eya is dead." 

"What?" I say out loud, struggling to extract myself from my blanket. I didn't know Eya well, but saw her at training, and she was at Resson. My mind goes straight to Liam and Bodhi. 

"Do not go to them," Tân roars. "Do not speak to them or look at them in the coming days. If you do, I will rain fire down. Do you understand me? They are picking off riders and you will not be one of them!" 

Gasping, I clutch my chest and slump back on the sofa. I've never been commanded by a dragon before. I don't know many dragons who have done this to their riders, in fact. Usually they just refuse to do something. Or have an argument. But the voice Tân used... It wasn't so much a warning as a flat out instruction through our bond. 

My cheeks heat and my stomach swirls. I want to explain myself so she won't think I'm an idiot. "I wasn't..." 

"Varrish has his eyes on you, little one," Tân interrupts. "He thinks you are a weakness for one of his targets. Solas has his on me. They are looking for our weakness now. Our bond will not be your downfall. Neither will those boys. Do not see or speak to them." 

"Understood," I whisper. 

"Everything okay?" Cohen asks, pulling me back into his arms when I finally settle and look around. Luckily, Cohen is used to these displays, as I chat to Tân regularly. 

"Yeah, just... Just Tân," I reply, sinking into his embrace. "I think I need to lay low for a while." 

"Agreed," Tomas says, still staring out the window. "Something's coming. I can feel it." 

Days later, I walk into the archives, past the scribes, and through to the room I usually have Mending lessons in. I'm early, because I want to see if I can browse a few shelves before Nolon arrives.

Nolon has his classes with me in here because he thinks looking at the old texts will help me start the process of 'proper' Mending. And I'm not complaining as, if there's any luck in the world one day I'll discover a book describing my specific kind of Mending and I'll realise I'm not the oddity or rarity I think I am. 

The archives aren't usually this quiet, so I can't believe my luck as I walk towards the classroom, through smaller and smaller corridors. I know there's a passage in an old tome Nolon showed me that said something about how to reduce pain. If I can learn how to Mend others while reducing their pain - something even good Menders struggle to combine - it might help me.

I round the corner and walk inside. At first I don't notice anyone else. I'm too busy searching the walls with my eyes, looking for the right book. 

A slide of a foot makes my head snap round. 

"Tân?" Permission. I need Tân's permission to speak to them. 

"Varrish's eyes are elsewhere," she grumbles, obviously tired. She's been refusing to sleep unless I'm asleep or I promise to stay in my room where I can be safe. 

“Hey,” I say, smiling at Bodhi and Liam, who stand with Ridoc by a door at the end of the room. It's the first time I've properly seen either of them since my gauntlet run. 

Gods, they're both so handsome. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Bodhi snaps, drawing himself to his full height.

My smile slides from my face. Maybe I was the only one happy to see them. 

Ridoc’s eyebrows descend over his eyes. “Why are you always around?” 

“Ridoc,” Liam warns. He looks at me. "Wrong time, Fenryn. Leave."

Warmth rises to my cheeks. Prickles settle under my eyes. My hands begin to shake. 

“I'm a Mender,” I say, forcing my voice to remain level as I place my bag on the table. “Unlike you, I'm permitted anywhere in the quadrant. So I should really be asking you why you're here.” 

“Get out, Ryn,” Bodhi snaps, his voice deep and cutting. “Right now. Get out.” 

I narrow my eyes and draw a chair out. “You're not my chain of command, so no.” 

Bodhi shakes his head and steps forward. "We will speak to you later. But right now, you need to leave."

"No. I'm not here for you, I'm here for..." I gesture to the walls of books. "It's an unhappy coincidence you're here at all." 

Bodhi's nostrils flare and for a moment I think maybe he regrets speaking to me like this. He ruins it by saying, "Get the fuck out, Ryn. Right now. I don't care if you like the lighting in here, or the smell of the books or whatever reason you chose this room. Get. Out. Now. Move down the hall." He glances at the door behind him. 

My jaw tenses. Bodhi's not my chain of command. He's not. But a cold chill spears through me and he might as well be because I stand, clasp my hands behind my back, and turn to the door I just came from, the one directly across the room from his.

"And you?" I ask Liam, glancing back at him.

"Leave," Liam says simply, shaking his head once. His jaw flexes.

My eyes find the floor. My lip trembles and I hope they can't see. I don't understand what I've done. 

Bootsteps sound. It's Nolon coming up the hallway, I just know it is. Sliding the sling from my neck, I let my arm drop. I leave my books and bag, and step outside the large door. “I'm sorry, sir, but I think we should cancel our lesson.” 

“No, no," Nolon says, reaching me. "I promised. I had to cancel Wednesday, so here we are. You were right. Your Mending won't get better without practice. You're already making brilliant progress, and books are the basis for knowledge.”

“Not this room, then,” I say, lowering my chin to my chest and refusing to meet his eye. 

Nolon frowns. “No, no, I book this room specially, you know this. It has the best collection of the—”

“I don't feel well,” I interrupt. “The gauntlet… my arm is still recovering. I should rest.” 

Nolon looks taken aback. “If you'd let me Mend it…” 

“You know Vice Commandant Varrish would prefer the injury to heal on its own," I say, tempering my tone. 

Nolon takes my arm and inspects it, turning the injury and causing me to hiss, wince and gasp. “It's dislocated again."  

Grabbing my elbow, I shift my feet and nod. There's no faking my pained expression or clenched teeth. “I should wrap it then.” 

“Well, alright then.”

I try to twist my arm back into place, but it won't work. Varrish's tug earlier has really fucked it.

“You should go back to the Healers Quadrant,” I say when I can breathe, trying to make my voice loud enough for Bodhi and Liam to know I'll be gone, though I'm sure they can see Nolon in the doorway. 

Arseholes. 

Nolon rubs his forehead. “I could do with the time back, there is something I've been tasked with. Yes, fine. We'll revisit this next week if I can spare the time.” 

“Thank you, sir.”

I leave without my things, holding my injured arm and breathing deeply. I don't stop until I get to our little common room, then I slump on the sofa and begin the process of burying my feelings while I wrap my arm. I push down the embarrassment which causes my skin to heat, the jostling in my stomach, and the tears in my eyes, shoving them all down into that little box of emotions I keep inside my mind. 

“Alright?” Cohen asks, interrupting me. 

I shove the box containing my emotions closed and force a smile on my face. “All good. You alright?” 

“Fancy the actual commons?” he asks. “You know, see people other than our squad for once?” 

I shake my head. “Not tonight.” 

“Oh come on,” Cohen whines, wriggling his shoulders at me. “Little drinking? Little chatting? Little flirting?” 

I smile but shake my head, wincing as I wrap my arm into a sling. “No, don't feel like it.” 

Sighing, Cohen slumps next to me on the sofa. “Yeah, bad idea. Especially since Brisa and I split again.”

I snort and shove him back when he nudges me. 

He throws his arm around my shoulders and puts me in a headlock. “Come on! You always say no. Just come and flirt with someone.” 

Frowning, I think of Bodhi and Liam. The two people I want to flirt with. The two people who have just made me feel like shit. “Yeah, you know what? Yeah.”

Within an hour, we're sitting on a large sofa in the bustling commons. Brisa and Cohen are all but kissing as they make up from their latest argument, and I'm sitting with Halfsson.

I haven't seen much of the giant third year since he beat me on the mat, but he sought me out when we arrived and asked how I was, and we've been speaking for ten minutes without incident. He's definitely not sober but seems able to hold a conversation so I'd say that's pretty cordial for Basgiath. 

"Eh eh," Cohen calls, nudging me in the back.

I turn to look where he's pointing and see Sawyer and Bodhi stumbling inside, drunk. Fascinating. It's been just over an hour since he shouted at me and he's already wasted. Probably Quinn and Imogen's doing - they came in just after we arrived looking for more lemonade for their drinks. 

I turn back to Halfsson and take a swig of his ‘lemonade’. I splutter a little at the strong, acidic taste. He's definitely spiked it with his own stash. 

Drinking while a first year is probably forbidden. I have no real idea, life keeps getting in the way of me reading the codex. Drinking as a second year seems to be a little bit more lax, and drinking as a third year depends on the person. For some it seems medicinal. Others, a pastime. Others, something they'd never do. 

Halfsson seems to be in the earlier half. 

It is interesting, I think, taking another drink and allowing warmth to spread down my throat and into my belly, that I'm sitting here with Halfsson after he almost killed me on a mat. 

“I didn't want to keep going,” he says when I tell him this. "I really didn't." 

I shrug. “You third years seem to be doing a lot of hitting these days so who knows if you liked it or not.” 

“Didn't." Halfsson shakes his head and whips out a flask, which he uses to top up his drink. Before he can take a draw, I steal it to take a sip. 

“Good gods,” I wince, “how's that stronger?" 

Halfsson chuckles and holds up a bottle of lemonade. “Need the mixer.” 

“Oh yeah,” I giggle, covering my mouth with my hand. 

Halfsson grins at me and leans in to pour the drink. His breath is sweet, and lips pink and enticing. For a split second I worry I shouldn't find him attractive at all. I mean, his face as a whole isn't amazing, but who cares. This is why I'm here, isn't it? To flirt? 

Bodhi and Liam both said I could do what I want, and maybe what I want is to not be snapped at, and just get a small iota of kindness on a day to day. And I miss human touch. I never did before, but now I do. And who knows if we're still doing whatever we were doing anymore. 

My nose scrunches. I bet Liam and Bodhi were doing something with Sorrengail. That'll be why Ridoc was there. Which doesn't make it at all better, as jealousy twists at my stomach. They're always with her. And they were so fucking mean! 

The commotion behind us gets louder, but I don't pay attention as I force myself to giggle again at something Halfsson said. 

Only, I blink, and he's replaced with Sawyer who falls unceremoniously over the back of the sofa, shoving Halfsson to the ground. 

“Oh shit, didn't see you there,” Sawyer laughs.

At first I think he's actually drunk, but the way he looks at me then behind me, tells me he isn't. I can't explain why, I just know he's sober. Just like I know Bodhi threw him into Halfsson. Just like I know Bodhi's behind me. 

I also know I have a choice to make. Look up and over my shoulder at Bodhi, or help Halfsson. 

Choosing to put the nail in the coffin of my feelings, and do as Tân ordered me to and stay away from Bodhi and Liam, I help Halfsson. 

“What the fuck, Hendricks,” I yell at Sawyer as I jump up. Putting on more giggles, I help Halfsson up and dust off his shoulders. “Come on.” I draw him away from the sofa Sawyer's now settled on, and start to walk him over to one of the secluded ones in the corner, my hand on his arm, grinning up at him as we walk. 

He leans down and presses a sloppy kiss to my lips. I don't reciprocate but I don't push him away either. It feels like one of Cohen's drunken kisses, not one of the heated and long kisses I've had with Liam and Bodhi, so I place Halfsson firmly in the 'friends' category of my life and file that away. 

But gods. I really should think about other people before I antagonise Bodhi. Halfsson, who beat me on the mat, is probably the worst choice of match as well, as there's unfinished business there. And Bodhi chooses that moment to complete it. 

My arm is ripped from Halfsson’s. 

“Planning to beat her again?” Bodhi asks. 

Halfsson doesn't reply, he just slugs Bodhi in the face. 

Bodhi is on him within a second. 

They're both leadership, so there's not much anyone can do to step in. In fact, all I can do is step away. Which is what I do. I don't give Bodhi the benefit of even looking at him as he fights Halfsson. I just leave. 

I'm at the second floor, reaching for the entrance to second wing dorms, when I see Dyer - the healer I met at RSC - enter the Fourth Wing hallway. It's completely against the rules for him to be in here, at least I think it is. 

“Not my fucking problem,” I whisper to myself, continuing on to my room. 

My bag, which I left in the archives, is hanging from my door handle. Annoyed, I just leave it. There's nothing in there of note. 

My bed is too enticing, so I strip to my underwear and crawl under the sheets. 

I wake to banging on my door a few hours later. “Fuck off Cohen,” I mutter, rolling onto my front.

This does nothing. The banging continues.

Wrenching myself from bed, I reach the door in a few stumbling steps. Whatever I drank has left my system now, but my body feels lethargic.

“Keep your fucking hair on,” I shout through the door, wrestling with the lock. “What?” I snap, opening it. 

But it's not Cohen. “Fuck off.” 

They don't. Liam and Bodhi just stand there, staring at me with looks I can't decipher and breathing like they've just run a mile. Putting my hands on my hips doesn't help. Bodhi just places a hand to the top of the doorframe, leans forwards, and drags his gaze over me. Liam crosses his arms and does the same. 

That's when I remember I'm not wearing much. 

“Fuck. Off,” I say again, reaching over to push Bodhi back so I can close the door.

But the moment my hand touches his chest, I hesitate. It's been over a week since I've been with him. Over a week since I've felt the safety of his arms. He takes my hand and walks inside, dropping it once he's in. 

"Hey!" I say, turning.

"Fenryn," Liam says.

I scoff and roll my eyes. "Come in here and get him out. He's obviously been drinking."

Liam holds out a hand. I take it and he walks in. Hooking an arm around my knees, he lifts me over his shoulder and shuts my door behind him. "He's not drunk. He was faking earlier." 

“Make yourself at home why don't you,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster when Liam sits me on top of my desk and I notice Bodhi unpacking my bag. “I thought I told you to fuck off.” 

“I heard you," Bodhi replies, "but we wouldn't have been able to come in if you didn't want us here.” 

I narrow my eyes at my door. “My door isn't warded.” That was the issue with Varrish and the gauntlet run. 

“It has been since the day you kissed Liam and me in your bed,” Bodhi replies.

"What?" I breathe, my gaze flicking between Liam and Bodhi and the door.

“Only you can let someone in," Liam confirms. "He did it for your safety." 

Groaning, I place my head in my hands. "I could have avoided the fucking gauntlet and the parapet."

"Parapet?" Liam asks, taking my hands in his. 

I pull my hands back and glare up at him.

Two lines appear between Bodhi's brows. “How do you find anything in this bag? It's a mess, Ryn.”

“You're not my chain of command so you shouldn't be going through my things." I cross my arms and huff. "I'll get Tomas to tell Aura.”

“You're going to tell your mother on me?” Bodhi chuckles. 

“My mother's dead," I reply, narrowing my eyes. 

“Fuck, Fenryn," Liam groans. "You're always so literal.”

Bodhi continues going through my bag, shifting the contents around. He mutters something, then removes a small bottle. I didn't put it there, so he must have done it when he gave me the bag back.

Liam takes hold of my injured arm. 

“Ow,” I say in a monotone, glaring up at him. 

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

I grumble at Liam's new nickname for me, but allow him to gently turn my elbow. Bodhi watches closely, until Liam confirms it's still bad. 

Bodhi's gaze flicks to mine. "Why haven't you drunk this yet?” He shakes the small bottle. "It must hurt a lot." 

I tilt my head and raise my brows. “Someone once told me I'm not meant to take drinks from people I don't like.” 

Liam huffs a laugh and I struggle to hide the way my lips tug into a smile. 

Bodhi shakes his head. “That's not what I said and you know it.”

“From people who are arseholes?" I retort. 

“From people you don't trust,” Bodhi corrects. “And that's not even what I said either.” 

There's not much else I can do apart from cross my arms and turn my face away from both of them. “I want you both to leave.” Please don't leave. 

“We will.” Bodhi turns my chin so I have to look up at him. “After you drink this, and tell us why you're still injured. Then, let us kiss you. Then, we'll go.” 

I huff a breath from my nose, but let Liam take my arm again. "I need to pop this back in, okay?" He rotates my forearm and slides the joint back into place. The pain makes me throw my head back and kick my feet. 

"I'm sorry," Liam says, placing a kiss to the injury. "It'll feel better soon, sweetheart." 

I narrow my eyes at the nickname again, but again, don't say anything. 

“I know you, Ryn," Bodhi growls. "You should have healed by now. You shouldn't still be in pain."   

I don't want to hear the care in either of their tone. It makes me want to take them over to my bed and not let either of them go. And who knows what Varrish will say if he finds Liam and Bodhi in my room. Wait, no. Bodhi snapped at me! I'm angry.

Kicking my foot at Liam's shin, I say, “I'm not drinking that, you can't kiss me, and my arm is none of your fucking business.” 

Liam raises an eyebrow, and I add, "Thank you for healing my arm, obviously." 

With a sigh, Bodhi moves my desk chair in front of me and sits down. “Drink.” 

Turning my head, I push his hand away. “Leave.” Don't leave. 

I hate that they both look like they can read my mind. Their eyes soften when they look at me and Liam traces his fingers over my shoulder.

“We told you what we want,” Bodhi says. "If you really want us to go, just drink the pain vial first." 

"Why do you even want a kiss?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at Bodhi. 

Bodhi scoffs. "You think I can see you kiss Halfsson and not ruminate on it every moment after?" he says. There's an honesty in his expression that makes my anger slide away slightly. If I saw him or Liam kiss someone else...

And my arm does hurt a little…

Fuck’s sake. "Fine." I down the medicine and wince as it goes down. 

“Why isn't your arm healed,” Bodhi asks, curling his hands around my ankles. 

Liam crosses his arms and retreats a step. 

“Because every time Varrish passes me, he tugs it," I admit, all anger leaving my voice, replaced with the tiredness and resignation I feel each and every day now. "If I heal myself he'll know what I can do and he and Nolon will lock me in that fucking Healers Quadrant and do gods know what to me to see if I'll heal.” 

Bodhi's hands slide up to my crossed knees. “What do you want from us? As an apology. If not a kiss."

Gods. Does he think I'm going to ask him about why he snapped at me earlier? Well I'm not. Swallowing, I watch his hands and try not to imagine him touching me elsewhere. “Nothing.” 

“You don't want me to explain why I beat Halfsson?" Bodhi asks. "You don't want to know why I snapped at you?"

"First is because you were jealous, second is because you're actually an arsehole who doesn't have any right to be jealous anymore," I say in a blunt tone. 

Bodhi blinks. "I'm not an arsehole to you, Ryn. And I have every right to be jealous." 

"Yeah, then what the fuck was that?" I ask. I turn to Liam. "You too. The fuck? Liam. That wasn't an actual question, by the way. Because I don't want to know. I don't want to know any of it."

"Do you want us to get on our knees and beg you to forgive us?” Liam asks. "At least for us to have the chance to explain?" 

Exactly what I thought. “Nope. Don't want to know.”

“Please let me explain,” Bodhi says, voice low.

“No. It had something to do with Sorrengail which is the hundredth time you've both chosen her over me, so no. I don't want to know. And stop that.” I slap Bodhi's hand away when it ventures up to my hip, but leave the one he slides between my knees. I know my own strength. There's nothing that hand can- 

Gasping, I have to open my legs to push his hand away. “Fuck me, you have long fingers.” 

The smile on Liam's face tells me I said something wrong.

“They're yours whenever you want, Ryn,” Bodhi says. 

Despite the way heat pools in my lower belly at the promise in his words, I glare and slap Bodhi's shoulder. “Mairi, Durran, get out of my room.” Please stay. Let me get my anger out and then stay and hold me. 

“Kiss?" Bodhi asks. 

The way he looks at me turns me to mush. Seated, he's lower than me and I feel oddly powerful. They might do it. They might take any anger I have and still stay. 

“One kiss and you leave?” I say quietly, trying to hold back my tears. I really, really don't want to be alone. But I have to be strong. 

“One kiss,” Bodhi confirms.

Liam nods. "One kiss. Then if it's what you want, we'll go.” 

“Fine.” Anchoring my feet on Bodhi's thighs, I lean forwards and cup his face. I kiss him achingly slow, teasing him to make him think of the way we kissed when he was inside me. I kiss him for much, much longer than he deserves, until I feel I've got my fill and I could let him leave without missing him. 

Then, I turn to Liam, who leans down. I do the same.

“There," I say breathlessly, sitting back and trying to ignore the swirling in my belly when Liam's eyes remain shut for a moment as he licks his lips. 

“I'm sorry for snapping," Bodhi says, taking my attention away, "it was just important that you left. And yes, it was Sorrengail, but it was also Xaden and Graycastle.”

“I don't care,” I lie. "But Graycastle? Really? That prick? No. Stop. I don't care." 

Bodhi chuckles. "That’s the first time I've known you're lying and it's only because you really don't seem to like Graycastle.” 

"You think of his jawline often," Tân snickers.

"Fuck off, you."

"Fucking off as requested," she says, drawing away.

“You have your kisses," I say. I don't want to ask them to go again because I'm worried they actually will this time. 

Bodhi bites his lip and massages my knees. “That's not what I said.” 

I wrinkle my nose. “You said you wanted to kiss me.” 

“Which you agreed to.” 

I nod. “I did.” 

“Good.” 

“But I just kissed you both.” I look at Liam as if he'll back me up. But he raises a brow. I look at Bodhi to find he's doing the same. My face relaxes. Oh. I know what he's thinking - he said they wanted to kiss me. “Absolute fucking semantics, Durran,” I say, shaking my head. “Fine. Take your kiss.” 

“Just tell me if you want to stop,” Bodhi says, standing and drawing my knees apart.

I nod once.

“Lie back.” 

Rolling my eyes defiantly, I lie back on my desk and stare at the ceiling, waiting for him to lean over and kiss me. I can't wait to have his weight over me, pinning me down. But I won't tell him that. 

I'm a little surprised when Liam walks around my desk and leans down, capturing my lips and sliding his tongue into my mouth. 

I'm distracted, but not enough to not notice Bodhi slide his hands under the waistband of my underwear, removing the fabric from my legs in a quick movement. 

I frown and push Liam away, propping myself up on my elbows, ignoring the ache in my injured one.

“You said a kiss, Durran.”

Bodhi's last name turns into an embarrassingly loud and breathless moan as he ducks his head and starts to kiss between my legs. My head falls back over my shoulders as he presses a hand down over my lower belly and the feeling intensifies. 

"Good?" Liam asks, pupils blown wide as he watches me.

"Yeah," I pant, nodding. 

Liam wraps his hand around my throat and returns to his tongue-filled kiss, groaning when I moan into his mouth. 

I fucking love semantics. 

Chapter Text

They don't stay after all. 

Deigh calls Liam and he leaves, apologising and saying he'll see me tomorrow. 

Bodhi leaves a few minutes later, having been reminded of his early start for something leadership related.

I crawl under my covers and stare at the ceiling. There's a feeling in my chest like maybe this is the beginning of the end. Dressing quickly, I go to the hall and knock on Tomas's door.

He answers dressed only in his black boxer briefs. My eyes return to the ceiling as I walk inside and sit on his desk chair, waving at Mirabel, who laughs and rolls over so she can go back to sleep. 

"Tell me about this bad feeling you had," I say to Tomas when he's put his trousers on and sat on the end of his bed. 

Tomas has always been more in tune with the changing tides. His signet helps him feel emotions, but he only recently explained more - he feels when things are coming. Like someone with a previous injury might feel the cold coming in their bones. 

His signet is a lot more complicated than that, like if you ask him questions, he'll be able to tell you the feeling it evokes, but he hasn't gone into specifics because it's classified. And sometimes the feelings are so normal he has no idea what they mean.

I haven't gone into specifics about my own signet because while I trust him, I can't add more people into the 'know'. Not right now. 

"I don't know." Tomas exhales slowly and rubs his forehead. "I just..." He glances up at me then trains his gaze on my feet. "I don't know." 

"Your signet's a bit shit," I joke.

He smirks and bites his lip. "Maybe. But better than yours." 

I hum and push a few papers around on his desk. "Can I ask you something personal then? And you tell me what feeling it gives you?" 

"Sure."

"Do you think I should eat the orange custard thing in the dining hall?" I ask.  

Tomas chuckles and shakes his head. "Nausea." 

I smile and purse my lips, thinking for a moment. "Do you think I should tell Brisa yes if she asks me if she should grow her hair out?" 

Tomas grimaces. "No. Definitely not. Fear." 

As quickly as I can, I say, "Do you think I should break up with Liam and Bodhi?" 

Tomas chuckles and shakes his head, then groans. "Fuck, yeah, I think you should. Also, I just got a wave of euphoria and relief." 

Sighing, I place my head in my hands. 

"You deserve more, Fen," Tomas says. "Your door goes all the time and we didn't even know you were running the parapet or the gauntlet because we assumed you were meeting one of them. And you lost Gayl. And you got beaten on the mat. And you... What do you want?"

Mirabel snores a little so I hope she's asleep. Or she's being nice and faking it. Either way, I'm about to be honest and I hope Tomas won't mention it again after tonight. 

"Them to like me," I admit in a small voice. "Gods, what is wrong with me? I used to be so tough." 

Tomas clucks his tongue. "You are tough. And they do like you. But they don't have time for you. This is why they tell us not to get into relationships at Basgiath. It all ends badly." 

I scoff and indicate Mirabel.

Tomas sighs. "We grew up together. Did you know that? When I said I wanted to come here, she followed. She gets me. I get her." 

I suck in a breath. Finally, I understand. "You saved us in interrogation to save Mirabel, because you care for her." 

Tomas nods and looks over his shoulder at the figure sleeping in his bed. "I only took Squad Lead so she wouldn't have to do it anymore. She hated it, Fen. Really fucking hated it." He turns back to me. "Do you think Mairi or Durran would do that for you?" 

We both know the answer to that. But I can't let him see my upset. I walk to the door and tap the frame twice. "You've given me a lot to think about," I say with as much of a smile as I can gather. "Thanks, Tomas." 

Tomas nods and retreats to bed, trusting that I'll close his door, which I do. Returning to my room, I don't sleep. Instead, I toss and turn and stare at the ceiling as Malek's river calls to me, the sound of rushing water running through my ears. Rolling onto my front, I close my eyes and ignore the way Tân flies past my window and calls for me to go out with her. 

"We need to stay low," I say, "you said so yourself." 

She grumbles, but agrees. "Stop thinking about that place," she says.

Sighing, I get up and open my window. I can hear her wing beats from my room as she flies around, always just out of sight but there. I sit on the desk cross legged, staring out at the empty landscape. 

I decide I'll have to speak to Liam and Bodhi tomorrow. It's Sunday, so they won't be busy. I prepare a whole speech about how I deserve to come first sometimes, and even then I can hear Tomas's voice saying it's not enough.

In the early morning I go for a walk to the flight fields and see Graycastle checking his dragon's legs. He's not as broad as Riorson and they're the only two I know of who have bonded with blue dragons, so there's no one else it can be.

I start checking Tân over. I'm at her back leg when I glance over again and see that Graycastle's hands are bandaged. While I want to ignore it, I can't. He might be an arrogant prick, but he's a first year and when I push my magic across the field towards him, I feel his hands are blistered, but healing.

Tân growls. "He's a first year," I whisper back. 

"He will heal in time," she replies. "Do not waste your signet mending someone you don't know."

Sighing, I glance over my shoulder and watch as Graycastle checks his dragon's feet. "Yeah. True." 

I tell Tân my plan to chat to Liam and Bodhi and she huffs a breath of warm air over me, then ducks her head so I can place my forehead to her long face and stroke my hand down. We stay like this for a long time, as I sink into her scales, grounding myself through her. By the time I pull back, Graycastle and his dragon have gone. 

The bell rings out to say it's time for breakfast. Only, when we get to the dining hall, Liam's absent. I assume he's with Sorrengail, as she's also not here. And they're always together.

Later, they call an emergency formation and Riders - actual fucking Riders I recognise from RSC interrogation - walk slowly between lines of cadets, checking our hands. 

It's out of the ordinary, but who knows what Varrish is on these days. And while I don't think it has anything to do with Liam and Sorrengail, I do think it has something to do with Graycastle, and I push my magic out to see if I can help. Like I said to Tân, he's still a first year, and arrogant or not, I will do anything to save people from Varrish's cruelty. But Graycastle's hands have already healed and when they check, they dismiss him immediately. 

Brisa and Mirabel pull me away for additional sparring and we train for a few hours. I give myself over to the mat and the bags and the wall and the weights and just focus on fighting, and not the sound of Malek's river thundering through my ears. 

I feel pretty fucking stupid in Battle Brief the next morning when Liam and Sorrengail are still absent and it looks like no one knows where they are. 

Shifting in my chair, I look at Bodhi, whose gaze darts around. His lips move as if he's counting, then he launches out of his seat and sprints for the door, ignoring the calls of Markham behind him. Though, Devera doesn't call him back, and she seems to understand what he's surmised; Sorrengail and Liam are missing. 

This isn't Tân flying for Chradh in Samara, this is something with Liam. I'm right behind Bodhi, running out the door which swings behind him, before I realise that I've moved. 

"What is it?" I shout, running after him. 

Bodhi whips round, his hand closing around one dagger hilt. I see the moment he realises it's me. His posture changes and his shoulders aren't as square. "Probably nothing. You should go back to Battle Brief," he says, touching my cheek. 

"If it's about Liam, I want to know," I say, crossing my arms when his hand falls to his side. 

Bodhi sighs and looks over his shoulder, down the empty corridor. Wiping a hand over his mouth, he looks as agitated as I feel. "There's so much you don't know, Ryn," he says, "so much you can't know."

"Why can't I know it? Or did you forget what I did?" I ask, tilting my head and raising my brows so he'll know I'm talking about Resson.

Bodhi licks his lips. "I don't think I can ever forget what happened. What you did. But right now I need to find out what's going on. And you need to stay here." With that, he turns and runs down the hall. 

Yup. I'm definitely not in 'the club'. My gaze is drawn to the swirling clouds outside the window. I step over and stare, hoping this doesn't have anything to do with Varrish. I can only hope Liam and Sorrengail have done something stupid like... got the flu. 

Bootsteps sound behind me and I turn to see Graycastle walking down the hallway, assessing his hand as he draws his bag strap over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to have noticed me. 

"You're late for Battle Brief, Cadet," I snap, needing somewhere to direct my anger and upset. 

Graycastle stops in his tracks and when he sees it's me, raises an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes. "You're in Second Wing," he retorts. "And I'm not late, I was sanctioned to be out." 

I narrow my eyes, but nod and allow him to walk into class. Sighing, I watch the skies for another minute, sinking my weight against the stone arch, imagining it's Tân.

I go back into Battle Brief and when we finish, I walk straight over to Sloane.

"Where's Liam?" I ask, half hiding behind a tall Third Year so no one will see me with her. 

"What?" she asks, looking around, gaze darting between people I don't know but she must. "I don't know," she says after a beat. "That's why Bodhi left?"

Imogen takes Sloane by the arm. "Come with me," she says. Her eyes narrow at me when I follow. "Not you." She glances around just like Sloane did. "It's best for Liam if you stay away." 

I do. I stay away. From Imogen. I go straight over to Ridoc and ask what's going on, and he says he doesn't know either. I think maybe he knows more than he's letting on, but I'm not in their club either. And I can't shake the terrible, rising sense of doom I feel in my chest. It's like a vice around my lungs, holding me too tight so I can't catch my breath. I know I'm being ridiculous, but it's all too much. 

Liam still doesn't arrive the next day. I see marked ones darting here and there, their panic evident on their faces. It makes me sweat. And Bodhi seems further away than ever before. When I try to speak to him, he projects Squad Leader Bodhi, all official and not at all the man I spent nights with. When I go to his room and knock, he's not in or at least, he doesn't answer me.

I feel too vulnerable, walking away from Bodhi's room without even seeing him, and I hate the feeling of depending on him for news. It makes me feel vulnerable, which makes me hide behind my carefully constructed mask. 

"You seem different," Brisa says, nudging my arm as she always does when we line up for flight manoeuvres on Wednesday morning. "Something up?" 

I tear my gaze from Ridoc's back. Liam's squad have been shifty all morning and I want to know what they're planning. But I can't get close enough to ask.

At Brisa's question, I roll my arm around and hope she can't see the bags under my eyes. "Nope. Just finally feeling better," I lie. 

"Liar," Mirabel says, poking my elbow without any regard for a light touch. 

"Dick," I say with a wince, glaring at Mirabel's peel of laughter. 

One look at Bodhi's worried face is enough to send my heart racing and for goosebumps to rise along my arms as my hair stands on end. I need to find out more. I need to know Liam's okay. It's been too long.

But his name's not on the death scroll, thank the gods, so that means he's still alive. Whatever it is, he's not dying. Gods, I'm crazy. But this is serious. It has to be. Otherwise people would be breaking ranks and telling me it's all ok. As it is, I know nothing and I can't stand it. He really could be dying.

Dying. At the thought of Liam on his own somewhere, Malek's river calls out to me, and for a split second I think I'm there. Darkness overrides my vision and I drop to my knees, clutching my chest. A moment later the darkness passes and I look up to see a dragon fly overhead.

"Sure you're alright?" Mirabel asks, helping me to my feet. A line appears between her brows and she glances at Cohen, who wraps an arm around my shoulders. 

I nod, but there's no hiding from them anymore and their eyes are on me for the rest of the day. I can't find Bodhi in our usual places, and with everyone watching me, I'm too scared to push it. 

I have to wait until after dinner, when I finally catch Bodhi and he draws me into an empty corridor. I haven't slept in almost two days, and Sloane and Liam's Squad weren't at dinner, so now I'm terrified something has happened to them as well. 

"Liam's missing. So's Violet," Bodhi whispers urgently.

"I know that," I reply, stepping closer. "What aren't you telling me?"

Bodhi runs a hand over his face and rubs the back of his neck. "Fuck, Ryn. Varrish has them in an interrogation chamber. So I wouldn't say missing so much as..." He watches a first year cadet pass the end of the corridor. 

"Fuck," I breathe once the cadet is gone. "Sloane?"

He groans and shakes his head. For a split second my heart falls further into my stomach but then he says, "She's fine for now."

"Good. Good." I sigh and run my hand over his vest. "Then what do we do?" 

"You don't do anything," he says, taking me by my upper arms. "You've done enough. I can't think about what might happen if..." He leans down and kisses my forehead. "Look, just... You can't help, alright?" 

"Not alright," I reply, shaking my head and pulling myself from his hold. He can't be serious. Not right now. There's no way I'm not helping. I might be tired, but if they've done something to Liam, I can help. "Not alright, Bodhi. It's Liam." 

"I know." 

"No, you don't, obviously," I snap, staring up at him in disbelief. "No matter who I was to you both, I owe him a life debt. Now what are we going to do?" 

His face hardens and I know he heard the 'was' loud and clear. It slipped out, but after the past few days, I think it's true.

"Ryn, there is nothing for you to do. Just stay out of it." 

"There you go, arsehole mode again." 

Bodhi growls through his teeth. "Not arsehole mode, Ryn. Stop saying that. I'm just trying to protect you." 

"By shutting me out," I hiss. "You can't have it both ways, Bodhi. I have given you so much of myself to both of you. And you can't even let me in?" 

Bodhi sucks a breath. "Ryn, now's not the time. We'll talk about this later, but-"

"Now or never, Bodhi. You let me in or..." I don't have to say the rest of the sentence. I can see it in his eyes, he knows what's coming. 

Bodhi looks away. "Don't make me choose, Ryn." 

"You already have." Swivelling on my heels, I storm off down the corridor in search of people who might actually let me help. Namely, Sloane. 

"Ryn!" Bodhi says. He grabs my hand. "She's in her room." 

"Thank you," I bite out. 

Bodhi slides his hand to the back of my neck and kisses me. It's a hungry, desperate kiss and I return it, as I think it might be our last. 

Without a goodbye, I head for Sloane's dorm. I know what Tân will say, so I block her out before she can snap at me for being so public about all of this. 

I find Sloane's door unlocked when I arrive. I open the door and my heart melts. She's curled up in bed, her eyes red and watery. Knocking, I step inside.

"Don't come in," she says dully. 

"Why not?" I ask, glancing at the door which remains open. 

Sloane sits up and stares at me with nothing... Just... Gods, her eyes are so lifeless. "Try to leave," she says.

I do, and the moment my foot leaves her room, I'm thrown halfway across the room, slamming into the end of her bed. 

"Fuck!" I shout, clutching my back as magic pours out of my signet and starts to heal the bruising. 

"Yeah," Sloane says in a weak voice, lying back down. More tears fall down her red cheeks. "They won't let me help either."

I blink and stare at the door. Did Bodhi just... Did he send me here knowing I'd be trapped? "Who did this?" 

"Imogen," Sloane says, her voice cracking. "I don't even remember what happened. I was arguing with her one minute and woke up here the next. I've tried everything but she won't let me out."

Okay, so maybe Bodhi didn't know. Just one more question to be sure; "How long have you been here?" 

"Since Monday." 

The bastard! Fucking Bodhi. Groaning as my back still heals, I stand and walk over to the door. The magic is different from the one Bodhi put on my door, which means I can feel it. It's denser somehow. "This is strong," I admit. "There's not much I can do without Imogen taking it down herself."  

I turn my head and close my eyes, reaching through my bond. "Tân?" I ask. 

"I can do nothing against a ward," she replies. "But..." 

"You're fast," I reply, crawling into Sloane's bed and cuddling her back into my front, "please find Riorson? Someone. Anyone. I thought Bodhi already did, but maybe it took too long. Just help Liam?" 

"I will," Tân replies. 

"What if they kill him?" Sloane whispers, turning in my arms to tuck her chin into my shoulder. "I can't lose him again," she sobs. "I only just got him back." 

Six years. She was away from her brother for six years. I was only away from Plath for three and a half before she died. Now it's been almost five. So I know what it's like to lose a sibling to Basgiath. But Plath was never my blood sister. Which means this is worse. So much worse. 

My arms wrap around Sloane's shoulders and I pull her into a tight embrace. "They won't kill him," I lie. There's no way I know this, and if it's Varrish, there's a strong chance they will kill him. "Not when they need him. And he's strong. He's so strong, Sloane."  

"Fenryn?" she whispers. 

I think I know what she's going to ask before she asks it. I think she's going to ask me to heal Liam. I prepare myself for that. 

"Thank you for saving Deigh. Thank you for giving me Liam, even for a few months." 

She sobs into my shirt until she falls asleep. I keep a constant guard, my eyes trained on the door until finally, for the first time in days, I close my eyes and don't see Malek's river. 

Sloane thanked me. She actually thanked me. Properly. 

I can't get out the door. When I wake, groggy and lethargic, it's morning and try as I might I can't get past the wards. I go to the window and assess the fall and the climb. It's not too bad, but I'll have to do it slowly as it's been raining. And I don't think Sloane can climb like I can.

When she wakes, Sloane begs me not to leave her and I promise I won't. Well, I will, but I'll come back. 

She agrees to my plan and I'm edging out the window, ready to climb up to the floor above which we think is Ridoc's bedroom, when the dragons begin to arrive. 

First comes a blue we recognise as Sgaeyl, followed closely by a brown I know to be Chradh. Tân couldn't have done this, she's not been gone long enough to find them and bring them here. That's my own fault - I underestimated Riorson's loyalty. 

It takes me a while to get up to Ridoc's window. Just as I thought, the stone slabs are slippery and twice I feel a shock of ice shoot through my body when I slip. But I hang on.

When I'm in Ridoc's room, I race through to the hallway, then downstairs. It takes more minutes to work out how to release Sloane, but eventually I pull her out, in the process raising blisters to my arms. I hide the injury from her and they heal quick enough as we run to the stairs. 

Sloane runs towards the rotunda, where Chradh and Sgaeyl landed. I curse and shout, "I'll be there in a minute," when I can't find my daggers. I must have left them in her room. 

I'm on my way back down from my room, new daggers sheathed at my sides, when Garrick appears, carrying a limp and bloodied Liam in his arms. I can't imagine it's an easy feat, and I reckon only Garrick could carry someone of Liam's size this far. Thank the gods he's here.

Imogen, with her unmistakable pink hair, is on his tail, holding her hands under Liam's head. 

At least, I think it's Liam. 

Gods. I hope it's Liam. 

Do I? 

The bruising on his face extends... everywhere. His lips are covered in blood and yet still so pale. And his body is too limp, like his bones aren't whole. 

Mouth agape, I hold the door to the Fourth Wing dorms open for Garrick. He passes without acknowledging me, taking Liam to his room. I follow Imogen and watch as Garrick lays Liam on the floor in Liam's room. Garrick stares down at him, like he doesn't even know where to start. 

"We can't trust the Menders," Imogen whines, holding one of Liam's hands. 

Liam sucks in breaths like each one could be his last. His lungs rattle so loudly it brings tears to my eyes. 

I hover in the doorway, staring open mouthed at the state of him. Seconds later, Riorson arrives. I don't step aside so much as he pushes me aside. My feet follow his wordless command and I shuffle into the room. Riorson strides past, flanked by Sorrengail who looks awful but at least she's walking, unlike Liam. Gods. Liam. 

"Please say he's alive," Sorrengail cries, falling to her knees at Liam's side.

I feel a flash of anger heat my chest and cheeks. I shove it away, down, down where it won't come out.

Riorson joins Sorrengail and starts doing the same thing Garrick was - assessing, but not doing anything. 

I step forwards. Sorrengail jumps like she didn't realise I was there, but Riorson doesn't. He and Garrick shift, making space for me at Garrick's side. I press my shoulder against Garrick's gigantic one, just to make sure this is all real. He doesn't shift away. In fact, he pushes back and for a moment I think I might be part of his club. 

That's when I notice the blood. Riorson is bloodied on the back of his hands, but mostly it's on his palms, like he's held... Like he's held Sorrengail. 

"You saved them," I whisper, looking between Riorson's hand and Liam. 

Chapter Text

"You killed Riders and Infantry?" I ask. "To get them out. To get her out?" 

Riorson nods like this is an everyday occurrence. My hands fall to my lap. It is. It is a fucking everyday occurrence for him. Because that's what you do when you care for someone, isn't it? You heal them without asking, you stand in the way of punishments, you let them make their own decisions but you back them the fuck up, you don't say sorry for not helping. 

Fuck. I'm in a relationship with Sloane more than I am with Liam. And Bodhi. It's not equal because I care about both of them enough that the revolution is just an afterthought. This man in front of me? Riorson cares about Sorrengail as much as, no, maybe even more than that. I bet he doesn't keep secrets from her. I bet she knows all about the revolution. 

Maybe one day someone will love me like that. But I don't know, confronted with this, if I can wait for Liam or Bodhi to decide I'm worth it. Letting out a whine, I look at Liam again. Maybe...

"He's dying," Garrick says.

I look up and catch his eye. "Are you asking me to Mend him, or demanding?" 

"Neither. I'm warning you," Garrick replies. "I know how you feel about him but there's nothing we can do. He's too far gone for a Mender."  

Blinking furiously, I duck my head. I can't see an inch of Liam I could touch without hurting him - he's all bruises and broken bones. "Even if I wanted to try, I couldn't. Not until Tân comes back." Liam's blonde hair is plastered to his forehead. He looks so... young. "And that'll be too late." 

"How do you not know where your dragon is?" Riorson says through gritted teeth. 

I can't blame him. I would be angry if I was confronted with this situation and I felt like he did about Liam. But they were the ones who locked me in a room for a day. If I'd been there... If Tân had been there...

Tears run down my face as I clutch at Liam's vest, undoing the buttons with shaking hands. I trace my fingers over his injuries, then touch his neck.

"It's been five fucking days, Riorson," I say through angry tears. "While you've been doing fuck knows what, Bodhi refused my help. He and Imogen even locked me in a room with Sloane. Sloane. Liam's fucking sister. We didn't think you were coming so I sent Tân to get Chradh. So don't you dare lecture me about not knowing where my dragon is. I know exactly where she is."

Closing my eyes, I place my fingers to my temples and scream Tân's name. Finally, I hear her frantic, breathless (for a dragon) reply. 

“I'm coming, little one.” 

I gasp her name out loud. “They're here," I say to her. 

“I know. I am sorry, little one. I was too late to Samara." 

“Not your fault. I sent you too late. Now, I need to heal Liam." I look up at Sorrengail. Bruises cover her face, down her arms... everywhere. I can't ignore it. "And Sorrengail.”

“Little one, I am too far away. If you try to heal them both now, it will be even worse than before.” 

I turn my arm and focus on healing my elbow. I wince and grit my teeth as it pops back into place and the joint heals itself. Yeah, this is going to fucking hurt. I hold out my hand to Garrick. “I need a belt.” There's a moment of hesitation. “Garrick. Give me your fucking belt. Now.” 

Garrick sits up on his haunches, unbuckles his belt, and slaps the leather onto my hand. I don't have the strength to joke about how disgustingly warm it is as I layer it over itself three times.

Just before I shove it between my teeth, I touch Liam's neck once more.

"Fuck. No!" I cry. I can't feel his heart beat. I press my ear to his chest. It doesn't rise. I can't hear his heart. "No!" 

I ignore the cries from Riorson and Sorrengail, Imogen and Garrick. There's one high pitched scream which cuts through all of them - Sloane. 

"Liam!" Sloane's voice carries from the hallway. It's frantic and she's coming fast. She'll be here in a second. Less than a minute too late. She's going to come here and find Liam already gone. His sister. 

Tears renew in my eyes and, pressing my forehead to Liam's chest, I think of something which makes Tân scream. Even with her fear and anguish rolling through me, adding to the horror I feel at my own decision, I do it.

Not for Liam, but for Sloane. 

I go to Malek's river.

I don't know how I know, I just do. Tân's magic channelled through my signet burns and spreads fire through my body. I stop trying to ignore the river thundering in my ears. I focus on how I know the river looks. On the archway.

The pale white skin of Liam's lifeless chest disappears from view, first in a burst of gold, then replaced by darkness. 

I open my eyes to find I'm standing at the entrance to the river. I step forwards and feel the pulse of energy as the archway grants me access. The burning falls away. So do the voices in the room. 

The terrain is just like in Brennan's memory, and I'm grateful to the visceral image I had of it now. It scared the shit out of me, but at least I know what to expect. It's still fucking scary and I shake from fear of the darkness, but I'm sure I'll find Liam, I know it in my heart. And there's every chance I'll be early enough that he'll not have gone into the water. Gods, I have to hope I'm early enough. 

No one's commended Liam's soul to Malek yet, so I also hope there's no reason we can't both make it back. 

Liam is easy to find, thank fuck. He's still near the archway, standing at the edge of the riverbed, staring up at the darkness, as if he's waiting for someone to bring him back. 

"Liam?" I ask. 

He turns to me and tears pool in my eyes once more. His blonde hair is cropped and he looks younger, like he did when we first met. He smiles his lopsided smile that I love more than anything, and reaches out a hand that I take immediately. He lets me guide him back to the arch.

"I recognise this place," he says, stumbling when we reach the foot of the archway. "It's where Deigh came. Before you..." He trails off and looks at our conjoined hands. His thumb rubs over my knuckles and he brings my hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before turning it around and kissing my wrist. 

"Liam," I whisper. 

Liam smiles. "Bodhi's right, you're fucking exceptional, Fenryn." He looks out to the darkness. "Varrish didn't come for you, did he?" 

I shake my head. "This is just a dream," I lie. 

Liam's eyes widen a touch and he focuses on the arch. "Fuck. Well, let's hope I don't talk in my sleep." His grin widens and he leans down and kisses me. It's so grounding and warm that for a moment I forget where we are. "Varrish is killing me, Fenryn, but at least I'm with her."

"Who?" I whisper, leaning my forehead against his. He means me, surely? I can't be second best even in death...

"Violet."

My stomach drops to my feet. My heart beats erratically. He thinks he's dreaming of me but he's still focused on saving her. I take a step back. 

"She's so stubborn, you know that?" he asks, frowning and moving with me. He wraps his arms around my waist to stop me from retreating more. "She reminds me of Sloane." His gaze drags over my face. 

"You told me that before," I whisper, lowering my gaze. "But not like me."

Liam kisses my cheek, then my nose. "You are definitely not like my sister," he laughs, burying his face in my neck. 

"But you've never saved me from Varrish," I whimper.

"I will never forgive myself for being late for the mat, Fenryn. Never." 

At least there's that. But it's not the only time he's been late. "Liam?" 

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he whispers, tucking me into his chest. 

I suck in a breath. "It's probably the worst time to say this but you won't remember it, so I think I can be completely honest. I can't do this anymore." Looking into his eyes, I touch his cheek gently and allow him to pull me even closer. "I can't keep being second to Sorrengail."

"You're not," he interrupts.

"I am. Now,  I love you, but I'm saving you for Sloane. She deserves a brother. But I deserve more than you, even though you're everything I've ever wanted. You're a wonderful friend and brother, and when it's just us I crave more, but you're a shit partner," I chuckle bitterly. 

"You're leaving me for Bodhi?" he asks.

"No. Bodhi's already done. The thing is, until I can come first and Sorrengail second, I can't do this. Even Xaden puts her before the revolution. I want someone who will at least care for me enough to rescue me from Varrish." 

"She's my best friend," he says, searching my eyes. "And Xaden-"

"It's your duty. Gods, you're so honourable, Liam," I interrupt with a smile, moving my hand from his cheek to his chest. "I was the one who was stupid for thinking you might have time to be with me and protect her. You were honest from the start. But half a boyfriend isn't what I want." 

Liam opens his mouth but before he can answer, I push him through the archway ahead of me. Gods. He might be the only person who's ever been broken up with at the edge of death. Fucking embarrassing. For me, not him. And if he doesn't remember this, which I hope he doesn't, I'm going to have to be strong enough to break up with him again. Fuck. 

I look over my shoulder and frown at the silence. Without Liam here there's nothing. I can't even hear the river. The water is so calm now, it might as well be a lake. It's... comforting. Part of me thinks of staying here to finally get a little peace, but I don't want this. Not yet. 

I turn and slip through the archway. 

I blink and come to at the same time Liam takes a gasping breath, his chest rising under me. 

"Liam?" I whisper, rising and touching his forehead. 

"He can't hear you," Xaden says, his brows lowered over his wide eyes. It's like he's seen a ghost, but from the way Sloane bursts into the room, I know it can only have been a couple of seconds between him dying and me bringing him back. 

"Liam!" Sloane cries. She's at my side in an instant, rushing so fast she almost pushes me over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says, touching Liam's face, which contorts with pain. 

"He'll be fine in a minute," I tell her, listening to his lungs rattle as they did before. I reckon I've bought him a minute, maybe less. 

"Thank you," Sloane says, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "Thank you." 

I restack the belt and bite down on the leather. Taking hold of Liam and Sorrengail's hands, I begin to channel. Sorrengail tries to fight my hold but I don't let her get away and Riorson doesn't try to stop me either. Liam almost died for her. So if I do this, I reckon we'll be even and I won't owe Liam anything anymore.

Biting down on the belt helps stop my teeth from snapping together, but does nothing for the screaming. 

Liam and Sorrengail aren't even fully mended by the time someone starts pulling my hands from theirs.

I can't see. My shoulders are fucked… my knees. Gods, what did Varrish do to them!? 

Tân roars at me to stop but I can't. I don't understand why, but I can't. FUCK! 

"STOP!" Tân commands.

"I'm trying! I'm trying!" I scream, begging her to do something. "I can't stop! Make it stop!" 

Throwing my head back, I whack my head onto the floor and sob Tân's name. Someone slides their hand under my head and when I throw my head back again, I don't feel any pain there. 

"This is how she healed Deigh!?" Sloane shouts over my cries. "You didn't tell me this was how! Liam! Stop it!" 

“Only she can stop it," Garrick says above me. He's so close, he must be the one holding my head off the floor.

"Fenryn! Stop!” Liam says, cupping my face. "Sweetheart, please. Stop." I jolt and buck away from his hands. There are so many bruises, his touch is like fire, burning me. "It's ok. I'm ok. I'm here. Fenryn, I'm here. You can heal yourself now." 

The belt has long left my mouth and my cries and screams turn almost animalistic as I try to heal. I try so hard, but I can't. It's like I've opened up my signet to Mending mode and there's nothing I can do to close it or switch it to heal me. 

Even Sorrengail shouts over my screams, “I'm fine. I'm fine! Liam! Tell her I'm ok,” but I don't need to touch people to mend them, it just makes it quicker. 

I can hear Tân's cries in my mind as she tries to speed up her flight, but she doesn't stop me from channelling. Because we both know I need to channel to heal. 

I don't know who's being punished more - her, or me. For me it's physical. For her, it's the knowledge it would hurt much less for me if she was closer. It would be less prolonged if she was closer. But I sent her away. This time, it's my fault. 

I recognise the sound of a door slamming against the wall.

“Bodhi,” Liam says breathlessly. “Bodhi, stop her, please! We can handle this now!” 

Hands touch my forehead and shoulder. I jolt away again. “I can't,” Bodhi replies. “If I stop her, she won't be able to heal herself.”  His fingers brush my forehead and he says, "Please. Please Ryn, stop this." 

I don't know what happens after a while. I retreat into my own mind and block everything and everyone out as I scream and cry and my body heals itself agonisingly slowly from inside out. People come and go. I hear the door open and close and voices calling to each other. I hear slams of doors outside after a while and shouts of Ridoc, Sawyer and Rhiannon, packing by the sounds of things. 

I can barely take the pain, but Malek keeps me on the edge of death, prolonging the inevitable. 

I feel the moment Liam and Sorrengail are fully healed. It's a single moment of blissful relief from everything, but then the pain returns. It's too much. Much, too much. 

My teeth chatter. And my muscles shake. And my head throbs. And my stomach empties itself. And through it all - pain. Insurmountable pain. 

I feel every bump against my broken ribs and legs as someone carries me to Tân and places me at her feet. That's when the shivering starts and the heat is replaced with ice.

I feel the nudge of Tân's nose against the back of my hand, but even this close to her, I heal slower than before. It's like going to the river has stopped me from healing as fast as I did before.

This... This is my punishment from Malek for saving Liam. 

“Why isn't it working?” Liam says, sounding desperate. “She should have healed something by now."

“I don't know,” Bodhi replies. 

Tân must speak to their dragons, because they both curse in unison. 

“I can help.” Bodhi places his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, baby, this is going to hurt but it's the best chance we have, okay?" 

"Are you sure?" Liam asks. 

The magic flowing from Tân into my signet intensifies. My eyes fly open. The sky above me is dark and filled with so many clouds I can't see the moon or stars. 

I panic and buck against Liam's hold, but then he looks down at me and I see the blue of his eyes, so bright and sky-like. It's like a summer's day. I focus on the blue and pretend I'm dying in the sun. 

"Do not think of leaving me," Tân commands. 

I force my eyes shut again. "Don't. Need. Your. Help," I grind out through gritted teeth. 

"Baby, let me do this," Bodhi says, touching my cheek. 

I don't know what his signet is. I can't believe I never asked. But I don't care. "Don't. Call. Me. Baby. We're. Done." 

"Ryn," Bodhi breathes. 

"No," I reply, arching my back and rolling onto my front, using everything I have left to get away from whatever he's going to do to 'help'. 

Tân's snout touches my side, pushing against my broken ribs. I cry out as she rolls me onto my back. Unnatural warmth flows over me, heating every inch of my face and upper body, forcing me to turn my head to find some relief from the hot air. "I have given the Section Leader permission," Tân says. "You must heal."

"I will," I cry. "I will. Just give me time." 

"You have had time," Tân replies, her voice filled with pain and anguish. It's hard for me to hear. I can only imagine what I look like. "You have had over an hour while they rallied the Riders and prepared for our departure. I cannot carry you in your current state, and I will not leave you." 

Bodhi's fingers touch my forehead. The power of his magic is truly overwhelming as it pours into me, making the magic from Tân slam into every injury in my body.

An almighty scream rips from my chest, worse than all the rest.

I'm burning. Burning! 

Fuck! It's never been this bad. Ever. Not even when I was healing Deigh: I could still stand. I could still choose to heal myself. 

But now? Every injury is layered over the other. Every injury feels like it's healing simultaneously. Or... trying to. 

My head swims. My eyes roll. My entire body continues to heat until I'm sure I'm on fire. 

Everything goes black. 

Chapter Text

I wake in the sky, cradled in Tân's claws as the clouds shift around me. My body is so heavy and aches so badly that when I crack my eyes and see the multitude of dragons around us, I think I'm dreaming. I must be. 

Next time I wake, I'm in an unfamiliar room.

But unlike last time I woke in Riorson House, I know where I am. There's a lightness to the fresh mountain air coming from the window. It smells and feels like home. Aretia.

The room is bright and sparsely furnished, with the large bed I lie in, and an armoire in the corner. It reminds me of a lighter version of my Basgiath dorm room. The curtains, made of see through fabric, float into the room on the breeze. It's autumn and so cold already, but it feels wonderful against my hot skin. 

I sit up and this time I'm glad to find I'm clothed. Not in the uniform I left Basgiath in, but at least I don't need to fashion a dress from the light blue sheet this time. And, I recognise the green linen trousers and matching shirt as the ones Julianne gave me when I was last here. Which means, hopefully, someone packed my room up before we came. 

I'm assuming it's a we, as I'm sure I didn't dream those dragons. Gods, it was glorious. I've never seen so many at one time before. I wish I'd stayed awake long enough to truly soak in the sight. 

I don't how long I've been asleep, but my body doesn't hurt, or ache, and when I raise my arms, I can't see any marks or injuries. I walk to the mirror on the door of the armoire and stare at my unmarked face. Yup. Brown eyes, dark hair, golden brown skin. Nothing to report. I look so fine in fact, that I could have just imagined healing Liam. 

My vision swims and I look away. I know I didn't. 

My stomach rumbles. My hands fly to my waist and my mind focuses on the things I need right now; food and... a run? No. Something else... something. My eyes widen as heat pools in my lower belly and between my legs. Oh. I know what I want to do with the stamina I have now that I've healed.

No. I stop myself from thinking about that. It was never an issue before I spent the night with Bodhi then Liam, and I refuse to spend my day finding them or someone else to mount. 

"Shame," Tân chuffs. Her relief and happiness flows through me. "That would be a good pastime." 

"Don't, please," I whine. "How long have I been asleep?"

The smile leaves her voice. "Two days. One to get us to Aretia and one for the Mender to do his work."

Brennan. I wait for the sound of Malek's river, but it doesn't come. It's not summoning me now. I wonder why.

"That's better than last time," I reply, groaning as I stretch out my unused muscles. "Wait. I didn't Mend myself?"

Tân's reply is breathless, and I'm sure if I was in the field above Riorson House I'd hear her wing beats. I smile. She's on her way. "Not fully. I cut you off before it was too late. You were only half healed. I carried you to Aretia in my claws. Once the Mender started his work, you finished healing on your own. That is why you have no visible signs of injury."

Oh. Well, shit. "Do you know where I am?"

"Second floor," she replies. "Wait there. I will alert the Mender and the others. I am near Marbh and Deigh now." 

"No, thank you." Running to the window, I climb out onto the small stone balcony outside and lean over. Below me are a series of gardens. To the left, the courtyard. "Nice landing at least," I say, eyeing up the bushes directly below. 

"You must wait for the Mender," Tân says. There's a worry and fear in her voice I haven't heard since I first fell off her back last year and she scooped me off the ground and held me while I healed. 

But this isn't last year, and I know something I don't want Brennan fucking Sorrengail to know - I went to Malek's river and came out again. 

"Do not think of escaping," Tân snaps her teeth when I lean further. "You must wait." 

"Sorry, but you know how I feel about being trapped, and you went against my wishes in Basgiath," I say, thinking of her telling Bodhi to push his power into me. "I could have died." 

Tân whines and her frantic breath fills my ears. I can hear her high above, scrambling to get to the edge of the valley so she can peer down and tell Brennan where I've gone. "Do not do this. I must speak with you, little one." 

I hastily stack my sandstone walls around Tân's voice in my head, until I can't hear her anymore, and I'm sure she can't see what I do next.

Swinging my legs over the stone balustrade, I jump and land squarely in... a rose bush. 

"Fuck," I wince, extracting myself from the bush and pulling thorns out of my bare arms. Thank gods the marks heal within seconds. I grin and pat the signet on my lower back. "Thank you Tân," I whisper, even though she can't hear me. 

I assess the paths. There are three. One leading ahead, two leading to each side. "Left. Stick to the left," I say to myself, thinking of what my mother always told me about mazes and how to get out of them. 

I walk past the walls of hedges and flowers for a full minute before I think I hear movement. Stopping, I press myself into a gap in a hedge and watch from the foliage as a rider dressed in a flight jacket and flying leathers walks past. He steps wrong under an arch of green leaves and red roses, curses and leans down to rub his ankle. As he moves off, I notice he left his bag on the bench by the arch.

I think about running after him to give it back, but there's a good smell around it, like freshly baked bread, and curiosity wins. My greedy hands open the bag. My mouth waters at the sight of a large cheese sandwich half-wrapped in a sheet of brown wax paper, an empty glass-topped soup pot with two spoons, and a solid flask, which I open and find contains sweet wine. I can't help my groan of approval as I take a sip and the liquid warms my throat and belly. 

The only other thing in the bag is a golden topped pen. I steal the food and flask, then I place the soup canister (sans spoons) and bag back where I found it with a hasty note saying I'll return the flask to this bench in the evening.

I continue on the path at a quicker pace, ready to find somewhere safe to eat. 

When I reach the courtyard, I see a multitude of black clad riders in the entrance hall. Fuck. Of course the hoard of dragons I saw brought their riders with them when they came from Basgiath to Aretia. I don't know why I wasn't expecting it. 

I tuck my stolen goods into the front of my low cut shirt and climb up the front of the house, up, up, up until I reach the first roof. I shift out onto the dark tiles and crawl on my hands and knees until I'm seated between two open windows, but hidden from view both below and above. 

Then, I start on the food. Gods, it's exactly what I need. Thick, crusty bread slathered in salted butter and chutney. I remove the hunk of cheese and use a spoon to scoop the sweet chutney on top before I devour it. Then, I start on the bread. Yes, it's so warm it must have been baked this morning. I polish off the wine between mouthfuls. 

By the time I'm finished, the only things I'm missing are dessert and a man between my thighs. No! Fuck. I mean a sword in my hands, obviously, and someone to fight. Yes. That's what I want to do with all the excess energy flowing through my body - spar. And then fuck. No. Fuck's sake. No. Just spar. What is wrong with me? 

Groaning, I roll my head back against the stone wall behind me and listen to the conversation that's started in the room below. A few words in and I recognise the voices. I crawl on my belly to one of the windows and peer inside. I'm overlooking the strategy room I spoke to Garrick and Brennan in weeks ago. The gigantic table is still there, as is the map atop it. The little figurines have been moved elsewhere. Maybe they don't trust the Riders from Basgiath...

"What do you mean she's gone?" Brennan says, walking to his usual spot at the corner of the table. 

"She wasn't in her room, and Tân's worried," Liam replies, stopping at the middle of the far side of the table. 

Liam. He's alright then. Good. And of course my absence would have driven Tân to finally speak to Deigh. Or, she knows there's nothing between Liam and me now, so she won't be saddled with Deigh for the rest of my mortal life. Gods this is complicated. 

"Fine. Look for her." Brennan rubs his face. "She needs to join the other cadets for training."

Or what? I think bitterly. 

"Why not just leave her for a bit?" Liam asks. "She won't go far without Tân. Maybe she just needs time. And space. Healing Vi and me after what Varrish did... It was a lot. More than a lot. What she went through in hours, we went through in days. If I were her I would disappear for longer than half an hour."  

Brennan sighs deeply. "There's no time for her to dwell. She needs to prepare. She has the potential to be the greatest healer we've ever seen."

"Mender," Liam retorts.

It makes me smile. Then I remind myself what he said at Malek's river, and I wipe the smile from my face.

"Whatever you want to call it," Brennan says, "she has limitless potential, but something went wrong the other night. I need to know if it was the injuries themselves, or healing two of you at once, or another issue."

"Why?" Liam asks. "Just leave her."

"Do you know how difficult it is to Mend yourself?" Brennan asks. "I'm a bloody good Mender and it's a fucking pain in the ass. She can do it like that" - He snaps his fingers - "I need to teach her. If I do, she'll be invaluable on the battlefield."  

I grumble and cross my arms. At least no one's told him I went to Malek's river. And at least he's not talking about experimenting on me, just trying to help? Maybe? I don't know... Maybe I should have stayed at Basgiath. 

I frown and look out at the rooftops of the city below. I didn't have a choice... I didn't choose Aretia. Tân, Liam and Bodhi did. For the first time, I ask myself; why are we here? And I don't have an answer. Why are we here? 

"Why's she so angry?" Imogen asks.

I return to my listening spot. I've obviously missed something as Brennan has left, but I can't work out what.  

Liam groans. “Maybe because Tân told her she's been smuggling weapons for us for months.” 

My eyes widen and my heart stops for an uncomfortable double beat before it starts up again in an unnaturally fast rhythm.

"That'll do it," Imogen replies. "Well now she's here, who's in charge of filling her in?" 

Imogen's right. I am angry. I'm so angry, I can't think. I just see red.

I release my mental walls and jump through the window, turning in the air so I land barefoot on the table in front of Garrick, who recoils.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" he asks. 

“You had your dragon convince Tân to betray me?” I snarl. My walls go up the instant my ankles have healed and I shut out Tân's pleas to speak to her. 

Garrick's throat bobs. “Not betray.” 

“She left me defenceless for full days. Why?" I demand. 

Garrick crosses his arms. “You weren't defenceless, or alone.” He eyes the tablespoon in my hand. “What are you going to do? Stab me with a spoon?” 

My eyes narrow and I lean forwards. “I spent eleven years in the fighting pits in Luceras. Which means I know how to do a lot of awful things with just a spoon. I also know I could heal myself if my eye was forced from my head,” I snarl. “Could you?” 

Garrick glances between the spoon and my face. He must see the murderous intent in my eye as he takes a small step back. I echo the move and jump down onto the bench. 

I've never shown this side of myself to so many people before - the desperate, do anything to survive side. It shows. Garrick and the others in the room thought I was light-hearted. Fun. Controlled. But here, I'm feral. 

“I’m bigger than you,” Garrick says. 

“We're not at Basgiath anymore, Tavis. Sleep won't save you. I climbed the gauntlet wall with one arm. I climbed up there.” I point up to the window high above us. “And when I heal, I have incredible stamina. Do you think there's a place you can go where I won't be able to reach you?” 

Gods, I sound terrifying. 

Garrick must agree, as he seems rattled. He uncrosses his arms and his hands find his daggers at his sides. “Why are you trying to take my eyes!? It wasn't my idea!” 

“Whose was it?” I ask, keeping my voice threateningly low. 

Garrick clears his throat. “I don't think you should know that.” 

“Whose. Was. It?” I demand.

Garrick doesn't answer. I look at the wall behind him and he takes the bait, glancing over his shoulder. I flick the spoon, which smacks against his cheekbone, leaving a pink line just below his left eye. He recoils and stares at me with wide, watering eyes. 

“What the fuck was that?” Garrick cries.

“A warning.” I retrieve the other spoon from my pocket. "Do you need another?"

“Why do you have so many of those?” Garrick asks, his voice a higher pitch than usual. 

“Tavis. Tell me whose idea it was.” I raise the spoon. 

Garrick stands his ground. I watch him intently, until I see his eyes twitch to the left for a split second. I look over my shoulder. And freeze. My hands shake as I take in Liam's red-cheeked, handsome face. 

“You protect Sorrengail,” I say, my anger leaving me in a fell swoop, replaced with a pit in my stomach that threatens to engulf me. “How was I protected if you're always with her?” 

“It wasn't my idea either. But it was just a few times,” Liam steps forwards. “They were checking all the dragons, and we needed to get the weapons out. Fenryn, Tân is faster than Deigh."

Curiosity gets the better of me. "Weapons. You said weapons. What weapons!?"  

"Daggers." Liam holds out his hands like he's trying to calm me. It only makes me angrier. "The ones we used at Resson for killing Venin."

“Why the fuck didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me anything!?" Ice fills my veins. My jaw goes slack. "Wait. Is that what she was doing when I was being interrogated?” I ask slowly. "Is that why she was testing the edges of our bond?" 

The colour drains from his face and Liam looks away. He knows how upset that still makes me. “Yes.” 

My hands fly to my face. "Oh my gods. She told me she was with Chradh."  

“And she was.” Liam's face turns green, and red, and then pales as he takes in my expression. “Fenryn, I know how you feel and I think you'll feel better once I've explained everything.” 

“Do you!? Do you!?” I channel all of my anger and pain into my next words. “I knew nothing! My dragon left me and I was in the dark! You didn't tell me anything while you took the only safety I had away from me." 

Liam places his hands on his chest. “We didn't see it like that. I’m so sorry."

I shake my head. "Not good enough. Not fucking good enough, Liam."

"I know. Fenryn," Liam says. "I-" He bites his lip. "I had this dream, when I was injured, and you were there, and... Fen. It... It made me understand. Truly understand. I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you, Fen, I promise."

Laughing bitterly, I curl my hands into fists. “The rest of your life? You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me! And I never asked for anything from you in return. I just thought you might notice me.”

Gods! Now that I'm saying this in front of Garrick and Imogen, I've never felt so fucking embarrassed by my own choices. If this was a friend of mine I would have told them to get out of this situation a long time ago. So why am I still here?

“I did. I do. I notice you, Fenryn. I see you." Liam sucks in a breath. His eyes soften. "I love you.” 

“No!” I scream the word. “You don't know the meaning of that word! You left me defenceless, Liam. You fucked me over! I knew you would never protect me, but I never thought you would hate me so much you would see me die for what? A fucking shipment you won't even tell me about!?”

Liam steps forwards. I'm glad the table is between us. “I never-” 

I hold up my hand. “Shut up! You don't get to defend yourself. Not now. Not ever. I don't want to hear it, Liam. I gave you so many chances. Fuck! You didn't even help me on the gauntlet! Aetos saved my life more than you ever did!" 

Liam's eyes widen. "Aetos?" 

I lift my spoon and Liam just stands there, like he'll take whatever I throw at him. Literally. I whip my hand back ready to throw, but Bodhi's hand closes around mine and the spoon before I can launch it at Liam.

I don't know when Bodhi arrived, but he must have heard a lot as see resignation in his brown eyes as I glare at him. 

“If you want to hurt him," Bodhi says, "flinging spoons isn't the way to go.” 

“What is?” I snarl, ripping my wrist from his hold.

“Silence," Bodhi answers.

Stepping down from the bench, I curl my lip. "Not a problem. I don't know many people who speak to their exes when they've fucked them over this monumentally." 

"I'm not your ex, Fenryn," Liam says, walking straight over the table, coming to stand right beside me. His blue gaze flicks over my face. "I'm not your ex."

I glare. "Yes, you are. Unless I wasn't anything to you, when I guess you'd be right, ex would be too strong a word for what we are." 

"You're not going to ask about me?" Bodhi asks, taking my attention back before Liam can say anything.

"No," I say through clenched teeth. “Same thing goes."

"No. No it doesn't, Ryn." Bodhi shakes his head. "You're angry, I know. So ask me how you can hurt me. But don't say this is over."

"I'm confused, who were you dating?" Imogen asks. 

"Dating... that's... hilarious." The most I dated was Liam and I don't know if homework counts. "I'm not sure how you'd define it, but I was with both of them. Separately."

"With our knowledge and consent," Liam adds, shaking his head at Imogen.

Imogen's eyes widen and she whistles low. "Alright." 

"I'd prefer if you didn't spread it around," I say, coming to my senses for a moment. "Not a highlight of my life, and obviously it ended badly."

"It didn't end, Fenryn," Liam says at the same time as Bodhi starts to say;

"We just need to work this out. Ryn. Ask us how you can hurt us. Take your anger out, then let us make amends."

I scoff. "How do you hurt two people who don't give two shits if you live or die?” 

Liam holds my gaze. “I give all the shits about you, Fenryn.”

“You let it happen." Gods, I think I might be the most angry I've ever been in my life. And upset. And I've been angry. And I've been upset. I turn to Bodhi. "All those times I thought you bumped into me, you were planning on stealing Tân." My mind runs though all the times I met Bodhi in the dark, or when I arrived back from Aretia and he was waiting by the lake. "You both decided to try and fuck me so you could get more control. I thought you both cared but you didn't! Even then it was all about Sorrengail.”

"No!" Liam says, sliding an arm around my waist. "That's not what happened. Fenryn, that is not what happened."

Bodhi moves shoulder to shoulder with Liam, his eyes search my face. “No. Ryn, no. He's right. Tân chose this.” 

I step back as my breathing becomes uncontrollably fast. My eyebrows pull together. “If this wasn't about Sorrengail, why didn't you ask her dragon to fuck off to gods knows where? Tell me why you chose to leave me defenceless and not her. And don't say because Tân's fast! That's not an excuse!” 

“Ryn," Bodhi says, "Tairn was doing the same. And Sgaeyl."

"Riderless?" I snap.

His jaw tenses. "Tân was doing this before she bonded with you. She stopped for a while last year after Threshing, and started again after Resson." 

Liars! Fucking liars! Tân wouldn't lie to me. "Then why didn't you tell me what was going on?" I ask through clenched teeth. "Why didn't you just let me in?"

Bodhi's eyes widen when I use his own words against him again. "It's complicated."

"How? I didn't prove my usefulness? Or my loyalty? What? What was it? What did I do?" I ask, throwing my hands in the air. 

"Nothing," Bodhi replies. "But you weren't safe from Varrish, and-"

"I wasn't safe from Varrish anyway, Bodhi," I interrupt. "Or don't you remember the times I was injured?" My gaze snaps to Liam's. "Like when you chose a weapons drop over keeping your word and fighting me on the mat. I will never forgive either of you for this.”

Liam's other arm wraps around me. "I will make this up to you."

I shake my head. "I can't even look at either of you without a pit opening up in my chest." I pull myself out of Liam's arms. "Why didn't you just let me in?"

“Fenryn!” Brisa calls, running into the room. “Cohen said that was your voice!” She has her ‘I'm here to diffuse the situation’ face on, which melts away some of my anger, replacing it with a cold chill of mortification which seeps into my bones. Gods. If Cohen heard, who else did? 

Wait. We're in Aretia. “Why are you here?” I ask, pushing Liam and Bodhi aside to get to her. 

I mean, she could be a hallucination. But I really, really hope it's her. Otherwise this will be even more awkward.

“We all are. There are over a hundred of us including our squad. Tomas, Mirabel, Cohen.” Brisa lowers her voice when she reaches me and takes my hands. “Well... To be honest, we weren't going to come because Aura and Fallden stayed at Basgiath, but we stumbled on Liam's sister packing your room and she said you were going with them and... Fenryn. When I saw you in Tân's claws... Gods, I'm surprised you're even walking.” 

My bottom lip wobbles and the sides of my lips tug down. Tears flood my eyes, blurring my vision as I hug her tightly. There's bootsteps before another pair of arms, stronger and from a taller body, wraps around us both. Cohen. Then, another pair. Tomas. A smaller body squeezes into the middle and wraps her arms around my waist. Mirabel.

My squad. They came with me. I don't know why, but they did. I squeeze Mirabel and Brisa tighter. 

“Who were you shouting at?” Cohen whispers near my ear. 

“Liam and Bodhi," I reply quietly.

"Please say you broke up with them," Tomas says, not bothering to temper his voice to a low level. 

"I did," I confirm just as loudly.

“Do you want me to fight them?” Brisa asks when Liam protests my words. 

“No," I grumble. "That'll make them think I could forgive them.” 

“Shall we shuffle away?” Mirabel asks. 

I purse my lips. It's a ridiculous idea, and incredibly immature. And... “Sounds good.” 

Still hugging, we begin to shuffle away, led by Cohen and Tomas who can see over our heads. 

Garrick lets out a small chuckle behind us. I feel a flash of hot anger. With a flick of my wrist, I launch my spoon at him.. 

“Ah, fuck, my eye,” Garrick shouts. 

Tomas and Cohen swing round, facing the potential threat behind. Their swords make hissing noises as they're drawn. 

Mirabel takes my hand, leading me away. Brisa lets me rest my head on her shoulder, and she wraps an arm around my waist. Cohen and Tomas walk backwards, then protect me all the way through the crowd of Riders, up four flights of stairs, and into a small room with two tiny beds I don't recognise. 

“Our room,” Mirabel says, settling me on the bed by the window. We're so high up, there's no balcony. "For now, at least. We're not sure what's going to happen. They took a roll call last night, and gave Brisa and me this room, then just left us downstairs for a while after breakfast." 

"Where did they take you?" Cohen asks me, eyeing up my non-uniform. 

"Second floor," I say, frowning. This room is a lot smaller than mine is. I'm not looking forward to being moved up here once Bodhi and Liam realise giving me a good room won't get them back in my good graces.

“What happened to you?” Brisa asks. "Was it Varrish?" 

"They haven't told us anything. Not since Sorrengail shared her memory."

"I'll explain about what happened to me soon. Just... two things. First, do you know where I can get some food? And second, can someone please tell me why there are so many Riders and dragons here? What do you know? What did Sorrengail show you?" 

Cohen, Brisa, Mirabel and Tomas look at each other, as if they're trying to figure out where to start. 

Fuck. 

Chapter Text

In the end, I tell the squad about my signet first, then my issues with Bodhi and Liam and Tân second. It all kind of falls out of my mouth in a stream of consciousness that I barely manage to take in, so I'm surprised they do.

An hour later and I'm reeling from the fact Sorrengail showed literally everyone at Basgiath her memory of the battle of Resson, complete with what Cohen referred to as, 'Five seconds of his dream come true', which consisted of me in my underwear healing Deigh. I'm so angry I can hardly speak let alone rejoice that Varrish is finally dead. It feels like a monumentous invasion of my privacy.

Not even Brisa saying, "I think Sorrengail was more focused on Liam almost dying," helps make it feel better.

I've spent the best part of a year trying to hide my signet and Sorrengail just shows it to everyone? The absolute fucking audacity of it should be studied in textbooks throughout the lands.

After ten minutes of me staring at the wall, Cohen and Tomas go to find some alcohol to help with the shock. Brisa mentions something about that food I requested and it being almost lunchtime. They leave me with Mirabel, who starts rummaging in her rucksack and produces a vial of clear liquid.

It takes my focus immediately. "How did you get this?" I ask Mirabel, staring at the small vial in my hand. "I mean, this is what I think it is, right?" 

Mirabel bites her lip and nods once. "You know how I can do stuff with wards?" 

"Yes."

"Well," she says, wringing her hands. "I've been trying to work out how to go through wards. And... it worked. With Grady's office. Just before we came here. I thought it might come in handy sometime, so I took a few vials of the elixir and the antidote."

"How many?" I ask, lifting the vial to my eye. The RSC elixir is a carefully guarded secret. I'm sure someone here will have a vial and be studying it, but on the off chance this is the only vial in the kingdom, I need to ask before I drink it. 

"Enough for you to have a clear head and us have lots left over." She places a hand on my thigh. "It's a big thing, shutting out a dragon, but I feel like you need some space, and you can't keep your mental wards up all the time. Trust me, it's hard." 

"This is... Radical," I whisper. But I'm just angry enough to need the peace that will come from not having Tân in my head all the time. Just for a few days... I uncork the vial and drink the elixir in one gulp so I can't stop myself and rethink my decision. 

"How do you feel?" Mirabel asks. 

I think for a long minute. "Less angry. I just feel... sad. Yeah, sad." I bury my face in my hands. For the first time in over a year I feel okay with hearing only my own thoughts, and not having Tân there, speaking back at me. But now I'm physically vulnerable, as well as emotionally. I have to be doubly careful. 

But it gives me space. And space is what I need right now. 

"Don't tell Tomas?" Mirabel asks. "He won't approve. He said he had a bad feeling about it, but I did it anyway. If he finds out..." 

"I won't tell, as long as you don't tell anyone that I've taken it," I reply, covering her hand with mine.

Mirabel shakes her head. "I won't even tell Séo. I feel like this is my fault. I told you to go for both Durran and Mairi, and now look what's happened." 

I laugh so hard at the guilty look on her face that I snort, and pull her into a hug. "Don't apologise for someone else being a dick. They weren't ready for relationships. I knew that. I even said it would be like having half a boyfriend. The reality was just worse than I thought it would be." 

"They're going to try and keep you, you know," she says. 

"Yeah, well, I'm already gone," I reply, rocking her slightly. "They just have to accept it." 

"That's really how you feel?"

"Yeah." And it is. A lesson learnt from my youth. If you trust someone and they betray you or hurt you enough for you to cut them off, don't go back. Don't show weakness. Don't show vulnerability. Just be wary. "They're good guys," I whisper. "They just don't have time for me, and I want someone who would stop an interrogation for me."

Mirabel raises her head and beams up at me. "Tomas is pretty good, isn't he?" 

"At this point he's setting a good bar," I say. 

Chatter from the corridor takes our attention. The door swings open. Cohen appears, holding two small glasses filled with red liquid.

"Right," he says, handing them both to me, "one for the shock, one for the doc." 

Tomas walks in with a long sigh that makes me laugh. "He spent the whole walk back coming up with that," Tomas says. 

"Hey!" Cohen complains. "You said you wouldn't share my secrets." 

I chuckle and drink the first glass, allowing the warmth to spread through my chest and a weightlessness to settle in my limbs. The second drink only intensifies the feeling. 

"Malek's balls," I say, coughing at the disgusting aftertaste. "What was that?" 

"Cough syrup," Cohen says, frowning at a small bottle. "I think. Went off a few years ago but should be fine." 

"The cellars are warded," Tomas says. 

Mirabel and I share a look. She runs with me to the communal bathing room where I manage to throw up a few times. Once the feeling's returned to my body a little, I head back to Mirabel and Brisa's room with lethargic, leaden limbs.

I'm halfway down the corridor when I turn and start stumbling towards the stairs with the sole aim of getting back to my bedroom before I have a very, very long sleep. 

My vision starts to blur around the third floor and the stairs seem to fall out from under me. I have to grip tight onto the banister to keep from falling with them. I can barely catch my breath and my gaze darts around but I can't seem to find my bearings. The floor feels both too close and too far away, and the walls are so wiggly and wobbly I'm not sure if I'm in a wall or flying through the sky.

"Here," says a deep voice I recognise. "Let me help you." 

I'm swept up into a pair of strong arms and look up into a pair of bright eyes and a mop of blonde hair.

"Dodgy syrup," I say, my words slurring. 

"Where are you going?" he asks. 

"Bed. Second floor..." My eyes roll and I gasp, opening my eyes wide and adjusting in his grip so I can tell him where to go before...

Nope. I'm out. 

I wake in my bedroom. There's no light breeze this time and the window is closed, which is good because without Tân, I run cold.

Shivering, I pull my sheet up around my chin. It's still not enough, and I'm about to start crying because I'm too tired to move but I'm also freezing, when I notice a pile of blankets at the end of my bed, and a little vial of green liquid. 

Gods. It takes me three tries but I uncork the vial and down the contents. My vision sharpens and I feel stronger immediately.

Stacking three blankets over me still takes what feels like an age, but I do it, and by the time my head hits the pillow again, I'm asleep. 

The next morning, Cohen and Brisa knock for me. I feel much, much better physically, and make them wait while I bathe and change. Cohen shouts through the door when I get out of the shower, apologising for almost killing me with his random medicinal elixir.  

"No harm no foul," I call, finding another vial of green elixir sitting under the mirror in the bathing room, with, 'Drink up Zynd,' written on the label. 

I do, and feel my entire body hum as I finally recover from Cohen's dragonshit cough syrup. 

I'm still feeling sad and upset, so we take a detour down to breakfast so I can enjoying the view. The others walk on, but I stop and move into an arch, staring out of the window at the city below. It's stunning. It's home. I smile. There's something about just the tops of the houses that brings a nostalgia to my sadness. I can't wait to have time off from studying to explore. 

"Feels like home," I say, when Bodhi steps out from an alcove behind me. 

I don't know how, I just know it's him. And I'm not angry that he's here. I will be, if he tries to tell me we're still together, but I'm sure he knows we're not. Not after what I said yesterday in the strategy room. 

I could shout for Cohen and Brisa to get them to turn around as they're at least ten paces in front of me, but I know I'd just be putting off the inevitable if I did. Bodhi and I need to speak.

"Speak to Tân," Bodhi says, leaning against the wall beside me when Cohen and Brisa have rounded the corner. "Stop blocking her out and hear what she has to say." 

A small pool of anger bubbles and simmers inside my stomach. Not having Tân in my head to tell me what I should and shouldn't be feeling or thinking it's freeing, but comes with a whole set of issues like bad decisions on my part. I've never been in this situation before and I don't want the drawn out, angry goodbye, so I force the anger down and seal it away deep inside me. Also, there's a chance Bodhi will take my anger as indication I still want to be with him. 

I eye Bodhi's arms. Just a week ago they were safety for me. Now, I feel anchorless. 

Bodhi crosses his arms. "Speak to her, Ryn. She'll tell you everything she knows. After that, we can talk more. But you have to hear it from her first. We're not allowed to tell you anything until she does." 

I shake my head and train my gaze on a series of tiled roofs far below. "I'm not listening to what she has to say, so if you don't want to tell me yourself, we'll get nowhere." 

"I really fucked up, didn't I?" he asks. 

I frown and brace my hand against the arch. "I'm so angry, I'm sad. Does that make sense?" I whisper, refusing to look at him. 

"Yeah, yeah, that makes sense."

Bodhi turns and looks out onto the city, then takes my hand. The first time, I pull mine from his. He tries again and I sigh and let him pull me into a hug. His lips touch the shell of my ear and all my traitorous body wants to do is sink into his embrace, pull him into his secret alcove, and devour his lips so I can feel safe again. 

See, terrible decisions. Then again, without Tân's emotions and magic running through me, I'm more cautious about everything, and the idea of hurting myself by letting Bodhi in again terrifies me enough to stop me from giving him any indication we could be more than this. 

"Why are you so fucking stubborn?" Bodhi asks quietly, touching his lips to my head. "I just told you, I can't tell you anything until you've spoken to Tân. So please, just speak to her. Maybe then I can make this up to you." 

"You can't, Bodhi," I say.

"I know. I know I can't," he sighs. 

I look up at him. The emotions I see swirling in his brown eyes take my breath away. For a moment the world falls away and all that's here is Bodhi and me. It's always been like this with him - he gets me. He gets my emotions and he's always been good at understanding me. So I know he knows we're over. That no amount of grovelling will help him in this situation. 

Ugh, he's really fucking handsome though, and I wish it would work. 

"Bodhi," I say, with resignation seeping into every syllable of his name. 

"Ryn," he whines.

"Bodhi, you know what I'm going to say." 

He closes his eyes and tucks his face into my neck. "I should have kept my distance," he mumbles.  

I nod and run my fingers through his curls one last time. "Why didn't you?" 

Bodhi takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to my cheek. "When you kissed me, Ryn. I thought... I really thought I could be what you needed."

Cupping his cheek, I say, "You were, Bodhi. But I need more than someone who's only going to choose me when we're alone, and who goes behind my back with my dragon. I deserve more." 

Bodhi nods. "You do. I'm sorry about Tân. And I'm sorry for not standing up for you enough. And for not being able to give you more. I can't. Not until this war is over."

"Which is why you need to just let me go," I say, stepping out of his embrace. "Stop trying to force me to be okay with everything you need to do, or everything you need to hide. Because I want someone who trusts me."

Gods, the cough syrup induced mini-coma really did a number on me. I don't know who's saying all of this, but I sound more like Plath than myself - she was always the wise one. I was always the angry, avoidant one.

Then again, maybe this is what happens when I don't have a dragon to bounce my innermost thoughts off. Or a dragon's magic to heal me if I get so overwhelmed I want to literally jump out a window to escape a situation. Yeah, that's probably it. 

Bodhi tilts his head. "I do, Ryn. I trust-" 

I cover Bodhi's mouth with my hand so he can't lie to himself or me anymore. "You've shown me I can't trust you wholly. As a leader? Bodhi Durran, I would follow you anywhere. With my heart?" I drop my hand. "I can't. You have too much you need to keep from me, and I want to know it all. And fuck me, if you defend Sorrengail projecting my arse to half of Basgiath I will actually throw you out this window."

Bodhi exhales slowly. "I'm not going to. She shouldn't have done that. Trust me, she knows that now. I am going to say you deserve the world, Ryn." 

"So go save it for me," I say, offering him a watery smile. "And this doesn't mean we can't be friends eventually. Just... Might take me a while to stop wanting to punch you in the face." 

Bodhi chuckles as he runs his hands through his hair. "Do you remember what I said about you ruining me? I can't come back from you, Ryn. My arms ache when I'm not holding you." 

Gods. I know what he means. I'm so angry I'm sad and yet I want to cuddle back into his arms. "You're not allowed to be jealous. Or angry at me."

Bodhi shakes his head. "I could never be angry at you. You've done nothing wrong. I'll be angry at myself." 

"And be angry at Venin." I let out a breath of a laugh. "They're the ones you've been hiding from me."

He nods and draws my hands to his lips. He kisses the inside of my wrist. "You really need to speak to Tân. When you have, come find me. I'll explain more."  

"I can't speak to her," I say truthfully, "not right now, and if I couldn't get answers from you before, who says I can trust I'll get them now?"

"You will. But I understand... Look, I'm stepping back, but I'm here if you need me. And I'm sorry. I really am."

I narrow my eyes again. Part of this seems too... easy. Either he's pretending to step back so he can get back with me or... He knows he's going to be putting all his efforts into the war so he'll just hurt me more if he tries to get me back. 

He raises a brow. "Tân just told Cuir you seem further away than when you usually block her out. She's... worried." Bodhi's eyes soften as his gaze drags over me, taking me in like he's looking at me for the last time. "At least drop those mental walls of yours for a minute and tell her you need more time?" 

"Everything alright, Fen?" Cohen asks behind me. I look over my shoulder to see him walking purposefully down the hallway, both hands on his dagger hilts, and one of his more intense glares twisting his features into deep lines, and curling his lip. 

I nod. "It's okay, just give me a second?"

Cohen nods and directs his attention to the window. Sighing, I cup Bodhi's face. As always, he just seems to get what I want and he leans down until his lips touch mine.

This. This is our last kiss. It's slow and mournful and a proper goodbye. It's much more final than the angry kiss we shared at Basgiath. That was our break up. This is the final goodbye. 

I feel the cord connecting us snap as our lips part.

"All good," I say to Cohen, watching Bodhi, who walks backwards, not taking his eyes off me until he has to turn the corner.

I wait for Cohen to join me. "Thank you." My voice breaks on the second word and I sink into his arms and try to stop my emotions spilling out. 

"No problem. Just say the word and I'll be there," Cohen promises, holding me tightly. "Break ups get easier," he adds after a minute or two, once I've managed to rein in my tears, shoved all of my emotions down into my mental box, and firmly placed the lid over my feelings. 

"Is that why you keep getting back with Brisa then?" I ask. "Because they're so easy?" 

"Ah." Cohen makes a noncommittal noise. "Brisa and me... we never really break up, we just... Try to avoid the inevitable." 

"What's the inevitable?" 

"In this war?" Cohen leads me back down the hallway, towards Brisa and the promise of breakfast. "Dying before we can get married."

My brows raise high up my forehead. This is the most Cohen's opened up to me about Brisa. Hell, even Brisa hasn't opened up to me this much. It feels almost too intrusive to hear, but I feel like this is another step in our friendship.  

"Every time we talk about where we'll be stationed after graduation" - He clucks his tongue - "we decide to take a break." 

Groaning, I rub my temples. My squad isn't just incestuous anymore, they're fucking married to each other almost. Which makes me the loner or... Fifth wheel. Holy hell. "Fuck. Well, Bodhi was hard." 

"Liam will be harder," Cohen says unhelpfully. "But remember you've already broken up with him. It's the fact he won't give up easily that'll get to you." 

"Bodhi went without too much of a fight," I say, glancing back up the corridor. Bodhi's gone, but I can still imagine him walking away. "He seemed to understand." 

"Well, I don't think there's much coming back from locking you girlfriend in a room with her other boyfriend's sister."

"Well when you put it like that..." I sigh, then frown. "How did you know he locked me in a room?" 

Cohen grins. "Brisa was present for Mairi's blow out at Bodhi yesterday." He whistles. "Apparently it was a sight to behold." 

"Liam had a go at Bodhi?" I ask. The audacity for him to go after Bodhi when-

"Oh no, I mean mini-Mairi. Sloane. Apparently Liam had to pull both of them into another room. And she spent half the ride here glaring at Sorrengail across their dragons. Even gave her the middle finger."

This makes me grin. "I think I might love her. Well, with her on my side it might not be too bad."

"Nah, Liam's her brother. There's a loyalty there, isn't there? She seems angry at him but-"

"She's happy he's alive," I interrupt.

"Yeah, and I'm sure I'm breaking some kind of code, but from what I gather from Ridoc, Liam's not going to give up so easily. He's only just realised he's in love." 

"You've talked to Ridoc about this?" I grumble, dropping my shoulders as my pride at Sloane is replaced by embarrassment at the idea more people know I was dating two guys at the same time. "How many people know?"

"Not many. Sloane was very... choice in her words."

I smile. "Good." I stop us in the middle of the entrance hall. "Don't speak to Ridoc about me again?" 

Cohen groans. "He's not that bad when you get to know him." 

"I'm not saying don't be friends with him, just don't talk about me. And he is a bit of a dick. He laughs at me."

"Nah, that's just how he is." Cohen loops his arm in mine. "But I promise not to chat shit behind your back anymore."

He laughs when I glare playfully at him and punch him in the arm.

"Come on sweet cheeks. Breakfast." 

"Call me that one more time, I dare you," I say, poking him hard in the side. 

"Your underwear was incredibly flattering," he says, leaning round me to look at my arse. "Brisa had to tell me there was a dragon in front of you." 

"Oh gods, you are despicable!" I cry. Whacking him on the shoulder doesn't do anything so I tuck myself behind him. His teasing does help alleviate some of the pit I feel in my stomach. "Aura said to wear your good underwear every day in case you're injured and a hot Healer has to undress you," I protest, pouting.

"I promise, it wasn't that bad," Cohen says with a grin. "We didn't see your face, I just know your sigil. And Fen" - He turns and takes my hands in his. - "We didn't see much of the dragon healing either. If anonymity's what you want, I can promise you, you're all good for now." 

I smile. "Thank you." 

"Now go on in," he says with a lilt to his voice that makes me pause.

I narrow my eyes then cover my arse with my hands. "Cohen! Stop checking me out!" 

Cohen's laughter rings out as we walk into the dining hall, him first. 

Chapter Text

The next few days pass in a blur of orientation and classes so there's not much time to dwell on Bodhi, or read into the way he watches me from a distance. It's annoying, but not as annoying as Liam, who tries to speak to me before and after classes.

Thankfully most of said classes are on the first floor so there's not much worry about getting lost on one of the other levels if I leg it out of the classroom to escape Liam.  

And I'm getting faster and faster at running since we have to run the mountainside once a day. We have to go with the other cadets, all one hundred and something of us, but it gets easier each time I do it, and Mirabel and I go for extra runs in the morning before breakfast. Tomas and I run after dinner.

Even without Tân, I have an excess of energy to burn. And I can't stop running, because each time I reach the point where we usually turn around, I look up at the small clump of trees and see Tân standing there, camouflaged but recognisable to my well trained eye. 

I'm angry that she was doing things for the revolution without me, but I miss her. Gods, I miss her. I'm just scared of what's so important she won't let anyone else tell me. 

When the RSC elixir wears off after a few days, I hear her voice calling my name. I block her out with my sandstone walls and roll over and go back to sleep. 

That day, I have to wait for Mirabel to be done with classes before she can get me another dose of the elixir. I only slip and let Tân in once, when I'm sitting in History.

Physics has always been a class I struggle in, but I've muddled through with a combination of copying from Cohen and trying to memorise passages of text. See, while I can read, my education kind of stopped suddenly at the age of seven, so I just seem to read slower than others, and it takes me a little while to understand the more complicated things. 

It's why I'm more of a do-er. And why I've always got a physics textbook with me. Because if I get ahead of the reading, no one notices that it takes me double the time to get through a page. 

But history... The history of Tyrrendor pre-war and the tensions? Well, we have to share textbooks, and since there are only five first years, they're all lumped in with the Seconds. And I have to share a textbook with Aaric Graycastle, and... 

"Can you read any faster?" Graycastle asks, when I stare at the same paragraph for an entire minute. 

"Yes," I snap, embarrassment rising through me, bringing an onslaught of shivers and tingles to my chest. I shove the book at him. "I'll just read it later." 

Graycastle raises an eyebrow, then starts copying out a passage from the next page in elegant script. Once he's done, he gives me back the book and sits impeccably straight in his chair, looking around the room. 

"I do not like this one," Tân whispers. The relief and sadness rolls off her in waves, pushing through our bond, near-overwhelming me. 

"Neither do I," I reply, closing my eyes and relaxing into her happiness for a moment. 

I go back to ignoring Tân after that, but she sticks to the back of my mind so I don't have to strain myself keeping her out. She's so quiet and so relieved, I almost feel bad taking the elixir again, but this might be the only time I have to dwell in my anger without her trying to get me to listen to her. 

By the end of the day I'm glad I took it, as it means I narrowly avoid starting Mending lessons with Brennan by proving (via a cut on my palm), that I can't heal right now so there's no point in teaching me. He doesn't seem convinced, and I fully expect him to make a scene in the middle of the dining hall, but Bodhi walks over and stands between us. 

"You're alright Fenryn, go eat. You must be hungry," Bodhi says to me, squaring his shoulders at Brennan, who rolls his eyes and walks away. 

"Thanks," I mutter, passing Bodhi. 

"Not a problem. Let me know if you need anything, won't you?" he asks. 

I look up at him and nod. "I will, thank... you..." 

He smiles and oh my absolute fucking gods. There's a twinkle in his brown eyes. Before I can investigate, he walks off, hands in his pockets. 

I'm so confused, I stand there for a few seconds, frowning at his back. He agreed we were over, didn't he? 

Yes, he did. Didn't he? I try to think back to what he said the other day. Yes, he said he couldn't be everything I needed until after the war was over. 

"Alright frowny?" Cohen asks, pushing me over to our table. "Anyone would think you weren't over Durran by the way you watched him leave." 

"What? No, that wasn't what that was," I complain. 

"Don't worry," Cohen grins, "I'm not 'anyone.'"

There's nothing more demoralising than stopping on a gravel path mid run, huffing and gasping for breath, only to see your ex notice, smile, and jog back down a fucking mountain just to say, "Doing okay?"

'Fuck off Liam,' is what I want to say, but I don't have the breath to say anything, so I just glare and try to continue up. 

The air up here is so cold and I'm still not used to not having Tân's magic keeping me warm. I reckon I have another two days before this elixir runs out and I don't want to take it again. I can feel her restlessness through the dull bond and it's starting to make me feel nauseous. Or, that could be the altitude. I've been improving, but we're higher than ever before today. 

"Deep breaths," Liam says.

Turning, I assess the path, the mountainside, and Liam's footing. "Have a safe trip," I manage to get out. 

"Trip?" he asks, giving me a lopsided smile, like he can't believe I've finally spoken to him. It is the first time in two days, ever since I told him to fuck off when he tried to apologise to me before Physics. 

Running, I catch up with the group quickly, suddenly a lot more motivated to get to my squad. 

"Where's Mairi?" Professor Emmeterio asks, frowning as he does his count of the cadets. For a second I think I'll get away with telling him he's miscounted, but he adds, "He's usually the first up here." 

Of course he is. "He fell," I pant, holding my side. I haven't had a stitch in a while and it fucking aches. 

"Mairi?" Emmeterio calls, looking down the path behind me. 

Gravel skips around and Liam appears behind me, pressing his chest against my shoulder so he can join the group. 

"Absolutely fine, sir, just had a little trip," Liam says with a grin on his stupid face. He looks down at me. "I definitely deserved that. And more, but thanks for pushing me onto the grass." 

"I was aiming for the rocks," I retort, wrinkling my nose. 

For some reason, Liam huffs a laugh. 

"Why are you laughing?" I hiss. 

"Progress." Liam tilts his head. "Today, you shove me off a mountain. Maybe tomorrow-"

"I punch you in the face?" I interrupt, crossing my arms. 

"Absolutely fine with me if it means I get closer to you hearing me out," Liam replies, ducking his head until his nose almost touches mine. "Then maybe I'll get to you back."

My stomach clenches at the memory of Liam's touch. Of his nose rubbing against mine. Of his lips on mine. No. I bury the feeling. "The only reason you're speaking to me at all is because we're in Aretia so your babysitting duties are over." 

"And I am so glad they are," he says, words laced with the same tone he used in his bedroom the one time we had sex. "Now I can dedicate all of my time to apologising and making this up to you." 

His words send even more heat through my body, warming me against the cold mountain air. 

"You can't make this up to me," I snap, glaring up at him as I press my hands to his chest. 

"Zynd!" Emmeterio scolds as Liam goes flying down the path again. 

There's a smattering of laughter, which grows when Cohen says, "He tripped. Bad footing," and toes the ground.

Tomas slides back and waves his hands around, then catches himself. "See." 

"We all saw her shove him," Rhiannon says, tutting.

"Oh. Are there rules against that kind of thing?" I ask, looking around. "Is there some kind of Codex everyone's decided not to tell me about? Was it handed to all the Riders who weren't kidnapped?" 

"You know there's not," Liam says, rejoining me. Of course he's amazing at running back up mountains when he's been pushed off them. "And you weren't kidnapped."

"Adultnapped maybe?" I turn to Cohen beside me. "What's it called when you're taken from one place to another against your will, your dragon is used without your knowledge for weapons runs, and you in your underwear is projected out to all the dragons and their riders at Basgiath which means everyone sees half your arse against your will?" 

Liam's smile falters. 

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," Sorrengail calls across the circle. She almost actually does sound regretful. "I'm really sorry, Fenryn." 

Ignoring her, I look at Cohen for an answer. 

Cohen purses his lips. "Imprisonment maybe?" 

I click my tongue. "That's it, I'm a prisoner." 

"Do you want to go back to Basgiath?" Emmeterio asks me. 

"No," I say truthfully, "but if Mairi doesn't move I'm going to punch him in the stomach." 

"You're talking to Bodhi now," Liam says. Suddenly, he looks worried. His gaze darts between my eyes and he leans forwards like he's trying to have a private conversation amongst the massive lot of us. 

"Bodhi apologised and knows we're over," I hiss. "Because he understands when I make up my mind, it's made up." 

"But-"

"Mairi, just stand somewhere else," Emmeterio interrupts, indicating a space with the Fourth Wing cadets.

"No thank you, Professor," Liam says, standing straighter. "I'm right where I want to be."

"Are you? Because Sorrengail's over there," I say, pointing towards Fourth Wing. 

The smile slips from Liam's face again. "Fenryn, I will make this up to you," he promises. 

"I gave you fair warning." My fist slams against his stomach, but I'm weaker up here at this altitude so while he doubles over, it's not my whole strength and he recovers quickly.

Cohen taps my shoulder and I step to the side so he can replace me beside Liam. 

Emmeterio sighs, like he can't believe he's been saddled with yet another rowing couple. He spins slowly, raising his voice to a shout so we can all hear. "New rules. No pushing other cadets off the mountain, and no punching each other during runs." 

I raise my hand. 

"Yes, Zynd, standing here counts as part of the run," Emmeterio says in a monotone. "And kicking is also against the rules." His gaze follows my hand. "As is stabbing, cutting, etcetera. Do not harm each other." 

I clasp my hands behind my back, and when I turn my head and scowl at Liam, I feel a rush of happiness when Brisa, Mirabel, Tomas and Cohen all do the same. 

Liam sighs and slinks off back to his space with Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second Squad.

In Battle Brief, we sit in a giant theatre, sectioned into formation. Devera stands at the middle of the room as usual, but this time, she's in front of a gigantic replica of the map that resides in the strategy room, and she smiles and introduces Professor Aisereigh.

"Just have lessons with him, he's fit," Cohen mutters to me, earning a hum of approval from Mirabel and a slap on the back of the head from Brisa.

It's odd sitting in formation. Second Wing is definitely one of the smaller wings. Our first years didn't come with us, and only my squad and a few others came from second year. It's... Exposing. 

Devera and Brennan start their brief by covering the... essentials. Fourth Wing win not only the Iron Squad Patch for their first years (we cheer for Sloane who beams over at us. Graycastle, sitting next to her, smirks and I almost break my smile to glare. Almost.), but also the Iron Section patch, which I didn't even know was a thing.

"They're making up patches now?" Cohen hisses in my ear as Fourth Wing roar and cheer and Bodhi shakes his head at them. "Where's yours?"

"For what?" I ask, frowning when Bodhi glances my way. 

He did say he would still watch me... I can't work out what he's up to. But he apologised, and he's not the one currently getting in my face every two seconds, so maybe he really is trying to make friends work. But he said friends wouldn't work... 

"Mending a fucking dragon," Cohen replies, drawing me out of my thoughts. "You're a second year and you didn't just mend a wing, you healed that dragon from the point of death."

I shrug and cross my arms. Come to think of it, he's right. I deserve a patch. Oh, wait, maybe not. "I don't want people to know I healed it." 

Devera and Brennan begin to speak about families and the chance to write home. I know Cohen, Mirabel and Tomas have, but Brisa is still drafting her letter. It'll take a lot more for her to convince her parents to move.

I put my hand up and ask what happens to those of us who were technically kidnapped as I didn't have a choice to come.

"Do you not want to join the revolution?" Devera asks, and it's the second time in a day I've been asked that. Can't they tell I'm angry at the people, not the cause?

"I do, but it's more of a problem of them not wanting to let me join," I say, staring Brennan down, "and now I guess they're desperate."

Devera laughs, but Brennan says "I gave you the choice to stay here after Resson. You chose to go." 

"Yeah, because I'm not a coward," I say in Tyrrish so most of the cadets won't know what I'm accusing him of. "The only person who chose to hide from Basgiath is you." 

Oddly, this doesn't rile Brennan. He seems resigned to it, as if I'm not the first person to say that to him. "I didn't know you spoke the language." 

I scoff. "I was born here. Navarrian is my second language." I call him a name that makes the Tyrrish around me suck in breaths and hide their smiles, but Brennan has no idea what I said. Still, I'm sure he can surmise the meaning. 

"She just wants someone to explain things to her," Bodhi calls in Tyrrish, from where he sits with Fourth Wing. "Not everything, just from Resson on, explaining Tân weapons running, Chradh, and why she's been forbidden to know more." Bodhi looks at me and I frown, but nod. That is what I want to know.

Brennan nods. "Come to my office after class."

"I want it explained by someone I like," I reply, sitting up in my chair. This might actually happen. They might actually tell me. 

Brennan sighs. "Who?" 

I blink and my gaze travels over Bodhi and Liam to land on, "Sloane." 

"Done," Sloane says, nodding at me from her place in Fourth Wing. "I'll get it out of Liam today. Should take me an hour, and my bedroom's next to yours so we can speak after dinner." 

I hold in my garbled cry of shock. It's going to actually happen!

Liam starts to say something but Sloane curls her lip, wrinkles her nose, and stares him down. "Yeah, fine," Liam says. "I just wanted to tell her myself, but yeah." 

"Thank you." I turn back to Brennan. I might be angry, but I do actually want to help the revolution, so I give him an taste of my melting anger and switch back to speaking Navarrian. "And since you're apparently handing them out to anyone, I want a dragon healing patch. Because I helped Mend Deigh." 

Despite Cohen saying no one knows my signet, it's already become part legend that I 'helped' Mend a dragon. And I'm only a second year. They just don't know how I did it, or that it was on my own. Thank gods. They just think I'm a weirdo for stripping off to do so. 

Brennan frowns. "What does that patch look like?" 

"Well, there's a dragon, and around the edge it says..." I pat my lips and think. 

"What about, 'I can't heal your personality'?" Cohen asks. 

Tomas pipes up. "Ooh, or, 'Don't worry, it'll hurt me more.'"

"'Are you sure you can't walk it off?'" Brisa says with a shrug. 

"Scaled up healing?" Mirabel says.  

I suck in a breath. "Oh, I like that. Or!" I squeal and jump to my feet. "'Healing services, Deigh or night.'" 

"Yes!" Cohen shouts. "That's it!" 

"That's not how you pronounce Deigh," Liam calls.

I ignore him and punch the air, then sit and high five Mirabel. 

Brennan smiles and shakes his head at our humour. "I'll look into it." 

"Huh. He actually is kind of handsome," I admit to Cohen, who laughs and nudges my arm. 

Devera takes over the class then, but everyone starts to whisper urgently to each other. I look at Mirabel, who says, "There's a riot of dragons approaching." 

I swear and grab my bag, searching for the antidote to the elixir. "Fuck, it's in my room." Which means I can't speak to Tân, or ride her, or heal anyone. 

Mirabel stares at me. "Then you have to stay here," she hisses, rising with the rest of my squad. 

"What's wrong?" Cohen asks, pushing me to the stairs.

There's not much I can do apart from follow the crowd of running cadets, not if I don't want to stand out, but gods, I seriously hope I won't have to run back to my room to get the antidote while people die around me. 

Gods. The idea of me taking the fucking elixir already sounds like the worst idea in the world, even though it's given me the space I need to think. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

We run outside and stare as a multitude of dragons appear in the sky, diving for the courtyard. They land one by one, shaking the ground and clawing at the earth with their giant talons. They land on crumbling walls and roofs and just generally every-fucking-where. I've never been more scared. Maybe once, when Solas murdered the bonded dragons...

I feel like I'm free falling even though I'm standing right next to Brisa, and Mirabel has an iron grip on my arm. Somewhere in the depths of my memory, something tugs. 

I see a woman on top of the nearest dragon, and for a split second, I think she's got dark skin and long dark hair, but then she moves and slides down her dragon's leg, and I realise she's tanned, with short brown hair. 

Shaking my head, I close my eyes and try to stop seeing the two dragons flying overhead, one red one green, both flying towards Aretia. That was a memory from my childhood. It's not now. So why am I thinking of it? 

I force the memory back, but when I open my eyes, for a split second the riderless green dragon in front of me is Tân, mouth low to the ground, growling. 

"Teine!" comes a command from the short haired woman, and my gaze snaps to her. 

"Who is that?" I ask. 

"Mira?" Brennan calls, running behind us. 

"Fuck. That's Mira Sorrengail," Mirabel says with a hint of awe in her panicked voice. "If she's here, I don't think they're attacking. Yeah, Séo just said, they're here to join us. They're coming to join us!" 

Cheers erupt around me. I join in when the same cheers turn into hissed intakes of breath as Mira punches Professor Aisereigh in the face. Yeah, that's what I would do if I found out my brother was still alive after six years of hating the people who 'killed' him. 

I use the cover of gossipping cadets to run to my room and take the antidote to the RSC elixir. 

"Tân?" I ask through our bond. 

"I know what you did," she growls, voice clipped and filled with barely contained anger. "Séo's rider confirmed it." 

Mirabel. She wouldn't have done it on purpose. "You shut me out first." 

"That is not an excuse!" Tân roars, driving me to my knees. "You will come to me tomorrow and I will explain. But your anger will no longer be directed at me. Do. You. Understand?" 

Gasping, I clutch at my head and nod. "Yes!" I cry out. "I understand!" 

"If that had been a true raid, you would have died," she snaps. "I will not lose you, little one. Not like-"

Tân goes silent. Rising to my knees, I look around, as if that'll help me search for her. "Tân?" I whisper. "Tân?" 

Energy slams into me via my sigil, driving me back to the floor. Gasping for air, I drag myself to the edge of the rug and turn my face this way and that, pressing my cheeks and forehead against the icy flagstones to try and cool down as the heat burns me from within.

"Go to the roof," Tân instructs. 

Gods. I haven't felt this hot and helpless since her magic first flowed through me. 

"I can't breathe," I whine. 

"You can. Now, climb, little one." 

I wrench open the window and climb out onto the balcony. I climb as far as the second floor roof I was on the first day I got here, and kneel, staring up at the ridge high above. 

Tân leans her head over and her eyes soften. The magic recedes, until I'm hot but it's manageable in the cold air. Still, I strip off my flight jacket. 

"I am sorry, little one." Tân's regret and fear overwhelms me through our bond. "When I found you, you were terrified. Like this."

Panic rises in my chest until I can't take it any longer and I lie on my back, staring up at the sky. The last time I remember feeling like this was... I cover my eyes and cry out. I refuse to think of that day. I refuse to! 

"I felt the same," Tân says, leaning further over, until her face is what I focus on instead of the sky. "When you are my rider, I feel like this." 

The anxiety and panic is replaced by a serenity that leaves my body feeling weightless. It's followed by a wave of power, then a wave of euphoria that leaves me giggling. 

"Tomorrow, we will speak," Tân says. It's not a command, but not a request. It's just a fact.

"Yes, tomorrow we'll speak," I reply. 

"Now sleep, little one," Tân says, "I will watch you, as Plath watched over you and you watched over her, and the one who came before watched you as you climbed." 

I don't know what she means, but I do as she says and close my eyes, and allow my tears to run down my face as sleep finds me. 

The next morning, I walk into History to find an additional textbook on the table. At first I grumble, then I pause, sinking into my chair as I turn the page. The words are easily understandable and I finish a page of reading in the same amount of time it takes others to. 

"Is that Tyrrish?" Graycastle asks, arriving at his seat beside me. 

"Yup," I say, smiling as I push the book towards him. "Why? Can't you read it?" 

Rather than getting riled, Graycastle shrugs. "Just a bit slower with that language. I'm fluent in spoken Tyrrish, but I had to teach myself to read it. My father-" He pauses and turns to the other textbook. "Are they the same? I often worry translations aren't accurate." 

He turns to a random page and reads out a passage. Finding it, I do the same, translating the Tyrrish into Navarrian as I speak. Gods, it's so much easier this way round. 

"You sure about that?" he asks when I've finished. 

"Yes, sometimes Tyrrish can be mistranslated, but it's all in the pronunciation," I say as defensive energy flows through me, getting me ready for a fight that... doesn't come.

Graycastle surprises me and nods like he believes me. "Interesting. There are a few translation errors then. I'll tell my Squad Lead." He leans over and says something to Rhiannon. Sorrengail who sits next to her, frowns and leans over the two texts.

She takes a while comparing the passages, but shakes her head and says, "Looks right to me." 

Graycastle shrugs. "I'm inclined to believe Zynd on this one."

This, combined with my glare, makes Sorrengail hand the books to Liam, who doesn't take as long to determine; "Fenryn's right. It's subtle, but if this is even one word wrong, other passages could be as well, which could lead to issues. We want accurate information only now that we can finally learn the truth. I'll speak to Devera."

Liam raises his hand, and within minutes Professor Devera has not only agreed, but done away with the texts and announced she'll translate the Tyrrish texts as she goes, while she speaks to Colonel Gerault to get the translations checked. 

"Good catch, Fenryn," Liam says when we leave class. 

"Yes, thank you," Sorrengail says. She has both books tucked under her arm, just like I have the Tyrrish one in my bag. 

I don't answer, but I feel a little rush of pride, and it feels nice that Liam stood up for me. 

"It's not the first time I've been wrong with my translations recently. I'm not sure what's going on with me," Sorrengail says behind me.

"Good thing Fen was here," Liam says, "just got to hope it's just a one book issue." 

"Coming to lunch?" Mirabel asks. 

I shake my head and grab hold of an open window, stepping onto the ledge. "I said I'd meet Tân." I start to climb, disappearing from view.

I guess Sloane's version of events will have to wait. I have a dragon to speak to first. 

Chapter Text

Chradh stands beside Tân when I arrive at the valley above Riorson House. It's the first time I've seen them together since I was last in Aretia, and they look so at home together, it's almost like I'm walking up to an older couple to hear their wisdom. 

"Come," Tân says, throwing her head back. She extends a foot, essentially giving me a ramp to get to her back, like Sorrengail's dragon does for her. 

"I can't," I say, looking around at the multitude of dragons standing, lying and sitting around. They're all restless. I can feel it in the air, and see it in their eyes. "We're not allowed to fly. Not since-" 

"Come," Tân interrupts. 

Chradh lowers his head and nudges Tân's neck. For a moment they look like some kind of fallen tree - her all green and him brown. She growls and he chuffs, then walks away, his scorpiontail swinging as he goes. 

And Tân says Chradh is stubborn. They're both as bad as each other. 

Sighing, I walk over and begin to climb Tân's leg. She lets me settle on her back in my usual place before she launches us into the sky, something I'm still not sure we're allowed to do right now. I really hope no one sees us. I don't think I can have leadership come down on me right now. And there's a guilt that comes from being the only cadet to ride a dragon in days. 

"We dragons can do as we please," Tân says. "We adhere to Riorson's rules as a precaution for our hatchlings and eggs." 

"I thought you were bringing me to the valley to give me answers," I say, watching Aretia get smaller and smaller behind us. 

Tân's flying slowly, taking her time. "I did," she says, landing minutes later at a small stone house at the edge of a field. "Your answers begin here. Climb down, little one." 

Oh gods. I blink as my heart races. I know that stone. I know that field. I know that house. "No," I say, shaking my head. "No, Tân let's go back to the valley." 

"Little one," Tân says, throwing her head back in a serpentine move that allows her to see me. "Climb down please." 

"Tân," I whisper, blinking furiously as I look at the wall.

My fingertips ache as I remember the grooves between bricks I used to push my fingers into as I climbed. The bush below the wall has been replaced with a small flower garden filled with colour. It looks ill-tended and I wonder if they're wildflowers. That's the only difference.

"I don't want to," I whine. 

"Your answers begin here," Tân repeats, lowering herself to the ground. "I must help you to see."

With shaking limbs, I walk down her arm and take my place in front of the door. Spinning on my heels slowly, I clasp my hands behind my back and adopt my father's pose and position. It makes me feel strong, much stronger than I feel right now, standing where he stood. 

"I will be back. Look for me in the sky," Tân says. Then, she leaves me.

"What?" I cry, throwing my hands in the air and letting out a laugh of sheer frustration.

My dragon took me to a place I have only seen in my memories - gut wrenching memories - and just leaves? And, oh great, yeah there she is, flying overhead, her tail swinging in the air, and her scales...

"No," I gasp, stepping back. I cover my mouth and stare as she loops back and lands in front of me. The ground shakes, knocking plaster off the outside of the small home. "You can't be." 

"I am," Tân confirms. 

"You said you..." I point to the sky. The memory I had... It was of Tân flying past when I was a child. Not of her mother. I don't even know where to start. I shake my head and body until words flow from my mouth without my knowledge of what's coming next. "You're my age! You said you're my age! But that was a fully grown dragon I saw. And you said it was your mother!" 

Tân bows her head. "I must tell you of my last rider."

I can't contain the volume of my shocked laugh as I begin to pace. "You had another rider!?" 

Has everything she's ever told me been a lie? Have we ever had a good relationship?

Tân growls. "I love you, little one. I did not lie. I do not want another rider." She claws the ground and rises to her full height. "I bonded with one before you. Will you let me tell you our story? I believe it will show you how much I love you." 

I nod, unable to trust my voice even through our bond. I don't want to know, I really don't, but I need to. To get the answers I so desperately seek, and I need to know if I'm ever going to trust Tân again. 

"My name is Tânio."

"You didn't even tell me your real name!?" I scream, pacing faster. "Good gods, Tân! This gets worse and worse!"

"Listen to me or I will take you to the sky and leave you there," Tân threatens, snapping her teeth.

I snarl, baring my teeth, but allow her to continue.

"I have had two Riders in my life. My first was named Yelen. Her mother was a Rider before her, whose dragon bore two eggs. Taken from our hatching grounds in the Vale and brought here, to the valley above Aretia, we were hatched too early.

"My brother did not survive a year. My own mother was long gone. Out of fear and desperation, Yelen and her mother cared for me as a hatchling. I returned to the Vale once strong enough, and I bonded with Yelen when she joined Basgiath."

I let out another scream of sheer frustration. "All the things you taught me. The manoeuvres. You did those with her?" I yell, unable to stop the anger rising through my chest. The betrayals keep coming like horrid waves crashing over me. 

"I have taught you every manoeuvre Yelen and I learnt together," Tân confirms. "She was just as fearless as you."

Oh gods. I rub my forehead and focus on not letting the nausea rise from my belly. Was anything mine? 

"One day," Tân continues, "we were flying from Luceras back to Tyrrendor. We stopped for water and rest in a ravine. The wind brought a cover of white into the ravine faster than we could evade it. I could not see. She could not either. We had precious cargo which Yelen stored in a cave for safety." 

Tân throws her head back and stares at the sky. I've never seen a dragon cry before, but I'm sure she's crying through our bond, and I feel some of my anger melt. I have to force myself not to go over and comfort her. 

"That is when they found us." Tân growls and snaps her teeth. "Horse riders," she spits out. "We could hear the hoofs clattering through the mist. I wanted to go forth and kill them all." Rage seers through our bond. "Yelen refused. She thought it could be someone she knew. Yelen commanded me guard her cargo, by blocking the entrance to the cave." Tân's anger subsides a little. 

"Yelen was brave," she chokes, "Yelen was kind. Yelen was my mother. It is unheard of, but I felt that she was. I trusted she would return for me. For her cargo. The blanket of fog was thick and I could not see past it. I realised too late it was filled with magic. Yelen must have realised as well, as she approached the Infantrymen with her swords drawn. She placed her mental wards up and I could not hear nor see nor feel. 

"I knew something had happened. I could feel the blade pierce through her chest as if my own, but I hoped I was wrong. When the mist cleared and I saw her, my roar filled the ravine, shaking and rattling the skies above. Never has a roar been heard so loud, I am sure of it. Yelen lay against a rock, with a multitude around her, and one sole sword in her chest. She had defeated twenty."

Tân's words come quicker and turn breathless, as if she's seeing everything she's telling me. Thank fuck she's not making me watch it. Still, I can hardly breathe. I know that ravine. I know that mist. 

"I reached her in seconds," Tân says. "With my teeth, I pulled the sword from its sheath in her chest. She looked up at me with eyes full of love. Just as she had always done. That is when her cargo reached her."

Mother! I let out a scream to rival the one Tân roared all those years ago, and drop to my knees. Tears slip easily down my face, following well tracked paths. I remember. I remember! I reach for the ground to steady myself as my vision swims and my chest caves in on itself. I can feel Tân's anguish, her pain, her grief piling on top of my own. 

"I did not intend to lie to you, little one. Not on purpose. I was reborn Tân the day our mother left this world. Just as you were reborn Fenryn when you left that ravine." Tân whines and lowers her head. Her claw touches my hand. "You were her most precious cargo. Yet the day I watched Yelen succumb, I lay down and let the grief consume me. I will never forgive myself."

I raise my head, curl my lip, and spit, "Why didn't you save me?"

A wave of anguish crashes over me as Tân begins to speak. "Yelen's wish was to be burnt after death. I had to wait for you to give her up, but you held her for three days, and only then did you begin your climb. 

"I waited for you to get halfway up before I turned to burn Yelen and the others. The mist returned with the wind from the isles as my fire swept over the bodies, consuming them without you witnessing. My eyes were lost to the mist, and once the skies were clear once more, you were gone." 

Tân moves her claw and straightens. "I was not fast enough to get to you then. So I became faster. I thought you were dead, but I waited in the Vale for you. Just in case. I thought I would have to wait two more years for you, if you were alive, but Chradh saw you in his rider's vision one day, and I went to Threshing in case he was right. And there you were."

"Tân," I cry out loud. "Tân." 

Tân must be crying, but I can't see anything as I'm too far gone myself.

Tân nudges me. "I thought you would recognise me, but you did not. I am not so ignorant that I do not know humans need more time to be put back together once they have been broken. I have treated you as your mother treated me, and worked to complete the task bestowed upon me; protection of her cargo. I have been waiting for the day you turn twenty-one to share this with you, as your mother wished."

"My... My mother asked you to tell me when I was twenty-one?" I cry, wrenching myself to my feet. I stare at Tân in disbelief as anger and horror and sorrow swirl in my chest. "Why twenty-one?" 

"Your birthday is..."

"Two weeks after Conscription Day," I whisper, staggering to the old home. I slide down the wall and stare at the overgrown flowers. I would only be eligible to be a rider the year I turn twenty-one. 

"I do not imagine Yelen imagined you would arrive at Basgiath two years early," Tân continues. "And her command was as follows." 

My vision swirls and my world shifts and I know what I'm seeing isn't my memory, but my mother's. She looks up at Tân, and there's no denying it - that is Tân.

My Tân.

Mother's Tânio. 

Mother's voice surrounds me, enveloping me. It's a comfort and filled with a kindness and gentleness I haven't heard apart from when I'm with Tân.

"Take care of my little one," Mother whispers. "Keep her safe. If my darling does not come for her, he is gone. Do not let them take her. Do not let them find her. Do not let them... Tânio." Her breath rattles in her chest. "Twenty-one. Do not let them find her until... then. Or they will take her." 

My mother's memory falls away and I feel near catatonic as I sit against the wall. I can't move my body and I suck in breaths at random intervals only when I remember to force my body to breathe. Even then, I can't catch my breath. 

"What is my name, Tân?" I ask. 

"I promised, little one, to keep you safe. And so I cannot tell you that. Not yet. I must continue to drop you from the skies in the hopes you will remember on your own. I have a promise to Yelen I must keep, and the dead cannot unbind the living." 

"Then take me to the sky and let me see," I whisper. 

"Will you climb?" Tân asks, emotion clogging her throat. 

I shake my head. "I can't. Not right now." 

"I will carry you, little one." Tân's snout touches my belly, then she opens her mouth slowly, and tucks her teeth around my body. She drags me slowly until I'm lying, and secures a better hold. 

I feel overwhelmed with heat as she launches us into the sky and her breath flows over me with every exhale. I watch helplessly as the ground becomes smaller and smaller below me, and the clouds appear. 

Tân flies higher. Higher and higher than before, until I can feel the cold seeping into my bones. That is where she drops me. 

I close my eyes immediately. I don't have the mental or physical strength to move my body, so I succumb to the memory instantly. 

Malek's river pounds in my ears, summoning me, but I ignore it, and focus on remembering. Tân doesn't make me say anything out loud, but I know she's watching with me, flying so close I can feel her snout at my belly, ready to catch me before I hit the ground. 

I remember waiting in the cave. The darkness surrounding me. I was small. Only seven, and the cave was so, so dark. I was scared. I wanted to leave, but a wall of dark green, almost black blocked the only entrance. I huddled into a ball and rocked, singing an Aretian song Mother taught me, waiting for the moment she returned. 

The green mass moved and I slowly emerged from the cave, stepping out into bright sunshine which blinded me for a moment. I covered my eyes and counted to ten just as mother taught me, then began to blink. As she promised, I could see. 

"Mother?" I called, stumbling and climbing over rocks and shifting gravel to reach Mother and her dragon, Tânio, who sat together by a small river. 

Walls of rock surrounded us. A ravine, Mother had called it when she stopped for Tânio to drink. 

There were sleeping men and women over to one side and I frowned and went to investigate, but Tânio huffed a breath of hot air over me and snapped her teeth lightly. I rolled my eyes at the summons and made my way over to Mother. 

Mother smiled at me, her bright brown eyes shining in the sun. She was always stunning, with an oval face, large eyes, rich dark brown skin and long braided hair. Her flight jacket was zipped, which made my frown deepen, as Mother never wore her flight jacket, but before I could unzip it for her she cupped my face and whispered, "Your father is coming, Ryn. Stay with Tânio. If he doesn't come in three days-"

The memory leaves in a snap as Tân closes her teeth around me. I go limp and allow Tân to fly us high above the clouds once more. I can't bring myself to sob, as I know more is coming, more that I have hidden deep down inside me, at the lowest depths of my box of emotions. 

Tân drops me. The memory continues.

"If he doesn't come in three days, little one," Mother said, the side of her mouth tipping up, "you must..."

I stopped listening. Why did I stop listening!? Oh. There was red at the corner of her mouth. I pulled my jumper from the sleeve of the tiny flight jacket Mother made for me, and wiped the red away as she always wiped my mouth when I ate badly. 

"Don't you worry about me," Mother said, taking my hand in hers. "Just start to climb, little one. Climb, and get to safety. If he is alive, your father will come for you. Because...?" She inclined her head and raised her brows. 

I straightened my back and recited; "There is no place in the kingdoms of Navarre and Poromiel, or even The Barrens Father would not look for me."

I smiled when Mother beamed at me. Father said it every time we went away, every time he went away, and each time I fell asleep in his arms. 

"Good girl," Mother said. "And if he does not come, go to Fen Riorson. Go to Aretia and seek him. Tell him he was right. Take Tânio and go to Fen..." She swallowed and the word caught in her throat. "Ryn... Fen, Ryn..."

Mother's hand dropped and her eyes watered more. As I stared, her eyes changed from brown to dark and I saw a river flowing there. 

I stared at that river for three days and nights, and when my father didn't arrive, I began my climb out of the ravine, repeating, "Fen, Ryn. Get to Fen, Ryn. Get to Fen, Ryn." 

I knew Tânio would meet me at the top of the ravine, but there was already someone waiting there. A man with gold on his shoulders and head, who drew me onto his horse and took me to a gigantic wooden gate.

The fighting pits. 

Chapter Text

I sob and cover my face. Tân catches me in her teeth and flies me back to the small house outside Aretia as Malek's river pounds in my ears. She places me by the patch of wildflowers, and I curl into a ball, refusing to even look at her as I focus on stopping my tears and blocking out that fucking river.

I don't know what to think, or how to feel. I don't know what to ask or how to get the answers I so desperately seek.

All I know is, my mother's name was Yelen. And I was right, my father is dead. Because if he wasn't, he would have come for me. And that message for Fen Riorson? Bit late to deliver now, isn't it? 

Later, when the sky has turned deep red and I've managed to string a thought together, I ask, "Why did you hide the weapons from me?" 

Tân snuffles. "I could not risk you being harmed, not after Yelen. The risk is great, little one." If I thought Tân was crying before, she must be sobbing now. Her lips curl back over her teeth, her head moves up and down, and her chest heaves.

This time, I step forwards, on and on until I'm by her chest, and I place my hand over the line down the middle, running my hand over the scales. It takes a while, but she begins to calm and curls herself around me.

Tân rests her chin on my head. "The Venin, little one, they are coming. If I do not help, the worry of losing Chradh will consume me. My mind battles with the idea of what loss would be worse. Him, or you. And the idea of seeing you battling them... I could not risk that either..."

She sighs and sinks to the ground around me. "When you were a child, I thought I lost you, little one. I thought you had died and it was my fault. I returned to the Vale and needed three cycles of rest to recover."

Gods, that's a lot of rest. I can't allow myself to think of what my life would have been like if Tân had found me before that man. I wouldn't have had parents, but maybe I would have been fostered. Then again, I would have been swept up in the original revolution...

"Where was Chradh during all this?" I ask, unable to stop my concern at her being on her own. When did they meet? When did Tân find comfort with him? 

Tân chuffs. "Chradh waited for me. When I emerged from my rest cycles, he was there."

"Are you actually secretly mates?" I chuckle in disbelief. "Please tell me you're at least not lying about your relationship status."

Tân chuffs again, her chest shaking all around me. "We have never mated. If we had, we would have been mates for longer than your life, and be unable to spend too much time away from each other. As much as I complain of his refusal to bond, we do enjoy our freedom."

"You're both as stubborn as each other," I laugh.

Tân snarls. I know it's playful by the way she tucks me further into her chest. "Do not compare me to that" - she says a word in her language I can only imagine means 'insufferable idiot' - "Chradh is strong, and when a dragon such as he calls out our word for goodbye..." She lowers her head. 

I whine audibly and wipe my face again. "You couldn't help it, you went straight to him. That's why we flew to Resson." 

"Yes. I was not thinking."

"But you seemed so happy, so jokey..." I frown. "You called me a virgin." 

"You do not think I use my humour as a mask? As you do?"

"Rude," I say, chuckling. 

"There is not a day that passes when I do not regret taking you there."

"Why?" I ask. "I saved Liam and Deigh."

"By almost killing yourself. I can not fathom losing you again." Tân stands. I sit cross legged and watch as she begins to pace, as I had done, only she loops around the small farmhouse as she speaks. "And now your signet gets stronger every day and I could lose you on another plain entirely. Malek's river calls to you, does it not?" 

"You hear it too?" I ask, eyes wide. 

"I do not," Tân says, shaking her giant head. "I hear your worried thoughts. I see your dreams. I feel your anxiety grow daily."

I can't help but think if she hadn't brought me to Aretia that time... If Brennan had never told me about the river, I would have never experienced this.

Tan snaps her teeth at something in the distance. "The first time I brought you to Aretia, when you spoke to the Mender and Chradh's rider-" 

"You can call him Tavis," I interrupt, "or Garrick."

Tân grumbles. "I will not do that. I would have to remember lots of names. It is easier to say rider."

"You're ridiculous," I laugh.

Tân doesn't laugh with me. "Chradh and I fought, little one. Chradh told me I should tell you of the weapons. I denied him and reminded him I have one role; to protect you until you are of age. It needs to be others to tell you. He said he would not ask his rider to do so, as was his right. His rider barely knows you.

"The next time I flew to Aretia with you, I made sure you could see the package I carried. I even said 'not my boyfriend,' when you asked who I was carrying the pack for. In a way, I tried to force Deigh and Cuir's riders to explain."  

"But you still went on weapons runs without me," I say with a scoff. "You left me defenceless, then asked others to tell me why you were gone." The moment my words come out, I feel they're unfair.

"They are not unfair, little one. I hoped you would not know of my exertions, but when it put you in danger, I attempted to adapt." She stares over the field, and growls. A goat jumps from the long grass and begins to run. Tân swings back round. "I am sorry, little one. So, so sorry." 

I rub my temples. "You do know bonding with me could have driven me insane, don't you?" I ask. "My mum, Tân!?"

"I heard the song you were singing and imagined you were your mother," Tân says. "Your voice is just as terrible as hers was. It was instinctual. A regret of mere seconds. You are everything to me, little one. Just as your mother was." 

Chuckling darkly at the memory of pulling a branch from Tân's foot at the start of the year, I ask, "Why are you always playing around, and telling me to mount people? If you're not as young as you say you are? Everyone thinks you're my age." 

"Your life is too short to not enjoy it," Tân says with her dragon equivalent to a grin. "Especially after what you have gone through. As for mounting, your mother had many lovers before your father. She would have encouraged you to explore. In fact, she made fun of me before I found Chradh, and encouraged me in my pursuit of him. Playing with you is like playing with her. You are alike in many ways." 

I smile and duck my head. Wringing with my hands, I try to hide the way my bottom lip wobbles. I feel bereft at the idea I can barely remember Mother and yet apparently we're similar. 

"You will remember, in time," Tân promises. 

"Can you tell me much about her?" I ask.

"Only what I see in you," Tan says, dropping to the ground in front of me. "I have thought of all the ways I could explain her to you, but they all involve breaking my promise by revealing too much. I cannot do that."

"You told me her name was Yelen," I say, raising a brow. That's more than enough to go on, surely? I could ask around or something? Especially here.

"I told you the name I called her, what she called herself, what your father called her, " Tân nudges my shoulder with her snout, leaving a smear of snot on the shirt. I rein in my gag. "Her first name was different, and I am sure I have broken no promises in telling you this. Even if you did know her name, records were burnt at Aretia six years ago. And Yelen died thirteen years ago." 

I grumble and start picking wildflowers to weave into a small crown. "Speaking of breaking... Do you remember saying you've never killed anyone? And never eaten anyone?"

Tân nods. "I have not burnt someone alive." 

She chuffs when I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. While I think, I finish my crown, making it as colourful and delicate as I can. Then I stand and look over at the mountainside and the city. "I want to get back." 

"We have more to discuss," Tân says. "I can tell you are unhappy I have not explained the weapons. I will do so, if that is truly what you want?" 

"I'm tired. We can talk again later," I say weakly. "And Sloane promised to tell me everything. Please take me back?" 

"Of course, little one." 

"Tân?" I ask quietly, once I've managed to drag myself onto her back and we're in the sky. "Did Liam and Bodhi know?"

"No," Tân replies. "Cuir and Deigh do not know if the extent of our bond, of Yelen and more. Riorson did not know of you, and I thought nothing good could come of revealing something so inconsequential to the war effort. Not when we must all focus on what is at hand. They will, of course, find out in due time.  Chradh's rider knows only a little himself. Enough to know not to ask questions of me." I can feel her anguish at breaking part of her promise to my mother. It rolls off her in waves. "Little one?" 

"Yes?" 

"We have left Basgiath." Tân banks right and I try hard to stay on her back. "The war is on our doorstep. I will protect you to the best of my ability, but Cuir and Deigh's riders are no longer worthy. Find another to mount."

We return to the courtyard when it's already dark. Tân is so fast and quiet I'm sure no one sees us. I dismount Tân's leg and press my face to hers. We stand like that for over a minute, as I stroke her face and lean against her, grounding myself. I am angry, and tired, and gods, unraveling this will take all my attention. 

I watch Tân launch into the sky. She's long gone by the time head up to my room and change into my nightshirt and shorts. The fresh air from the balcony grows stale quickly, and I run downstairs to climb up the front of Riorson House, returning to the rooftop I ate lunch on. I'm on my hands and knees crawling slowly across the roof tiles when I stop and stare. 

Graycastle stares back, his green eyes shining in the moonlight. He’s dressed in a pair of grey sleep trousers and a fitted black top. A bottle half filled with brown liquid stands beside him. But it's the silver flask in his hand that draws my full attention. 

It's the fucking flask I forgot to return to that Rider whose lunch I ate, and the very flask I'm up here for, since I know it still has a little wine in it.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” I ask. “And why do you have that?” 

Graycastle narrows his eyes. “None of your business, and the flask is mine.” 

I glare at the way Graycastle lifts the flask to his lips while assessing me.

“That's your flask?” I ask. 

“Yes.” 

My eyes widen. I sit on my heels. “Shit.” 

Graycastle stretches out the leg closest to me, and places a forearm over his cocked knee. “It was you." He points his flask at me. "Let me get this straight. You stole my breakfast and my flask from my bag the first morning we were here, and now you've climbed up here to interrupt my night and have a go at me for finding my own things?” 

"I didn't know it was yours but it makes sense now," I say, hands on my hips. "Of course you'd have crossed the parapet with the essentials." A silver flask and golden pens. Ridiculous. 

"Oh let me guess, you packed light," he says in a mocking tone. "Daggers, clothes, and snacks?" 

I want to retort, 'No! I came with the clothes I was wearing and a single bracelet I kept throughout my time at the pits,' but my bottom lip wobbles and tears begin to fall down my face in an unstoppable stream. I wipe them away roughly. Fuck's sake! Of all the fucking people I can cry in front of, of course it's Graycastle.

“Look, can you just go?" I say, wiping my face and pouting when I've got my emotions under control. "This is my spot.” 

I almost laugh at the expression on Graycastle's face. His eyebrows have drawn together, his nose is crinkled, his mouth is downturned at the corners, and he's moved as far back from me as he can. "You're not going to cry on me, are you?"

"No," I snap. 

“Good," he says, slowly returning to his spot as if he thinks I really will cry again. "Then no, I was here first. Go do whatever this" - he waves his hand at me - "is somewhere else.”

I snarl and crawl a little closer. Graycastle stands his ground this time.

“I have had a terrible day," I say, "and I've just found out that my dragon was my mum's dragon and I don't need you here annoying me while I come to terms with it!” 

Graycastle narrows his eyes, looks me over, then shakes his head. "There's enough roof for us both." 

Glaring, I complete my crawl and press my back against the rough stone wall between the two windows. We're now six feet away from each other I'd gather, but I can still see the smoke of his exhaled breath when the cold wind carries it away. Groaning dramatically, I turn and crawl two more feet away.

“Your mother's dragon?” Graycastle asks once I've settled. 

“Yes," I sigh, stretch my legs out.  

"That's dangerous."

"I didn't know, obviously," I say, crossing my arms. "I kind of blocked out the day she died." 

"Huh. I wish I could do that for mine." He takes a drag of his flask and spins the lid back on. 

I frown. Normally people say things like, 'Sorry for your loss.' I turn to the sky and open and close my mouth. I'm not sure how to ask him about his mum. There's a clink of metal and a clattering across tile, before the flask slides to a stop beside me. 

I look over at Graycastle, whose gaze is fixed on the stars high above us. 

“Thank you,” I say, frowning. I press the cool metal to my lips and take a swig. Spluttering, I retch, before trying desperately to get the liquid from my mouth. “Fuck! What the fuck is that?” I had expected sweet wine, not whatever this horrid drink is. It burns as it runs down my throat and muddles my taste buds. 

Graycastle lets out a booming laugh. “Calldyrian whiskey. That’s” - He pulls his lips down and shrugs - “five hundred silver pieces a bottle.” He laughs again like this is the funniest thing he's seen in ages. “And you just spat it out.”

“Holy Malek,” I cough, wiping my mouth. Drawing the hem of my nightshirt up, I hunch and try to wipe the taste off my tongue. “People actually buy this?” 

“Some. My father has a thing about bringing it out when he meets new people. He says you can tell who's worth their salt by the way they drink their first glass. So, needless to say I stole a bottle before I came here." 

Graycastle holds out a hand, curling his fingers. I chuck the flask over and stick my tongue out. A shiver wracks through me.

“Why? Do you also need to check out who's worth their salt?" I ask. "Ugh, you first years are so weird. Most of us just do that assessment on the mat." 

He chuckles and takes another drag. "No, more of a 'fuck you'. My father only has two bottles left."

"Had," I correct, feeling an evil sense of happiness when he rolls his eyes. "Well, you can tell your father I have cheap tastes.”

Graycastle huffs a laugh and we sit in silence for a while, until I hold out my hand. The flask flies into my lap. This time, I'm ready for the disgusting taste. I still grimace, but it goes down a little smoother and I only cough a little. 

“Is this real silver?” I cough, assessing the container. 

“Yes. Why?” 

“Let me guess, you were born with this silver flask in your mouth, your highness?" Waving my hand in the air, I bow my head. 

Graycastle bites his tongue. "It was a spoon, actually, and I'm sure Father said it was solid gold."

"Who knew someone could crack a joke with a rod shoved up their arse?" I say. "You know, where I'm from, this could feed someone for a year? Longer even, if it's as dense as it feels." 

“Is that right?” he asks, catching the flask when I throw it back. “I'll let my father know.” 

“Please don't," I say with a shudder, thinking of what would happen if someone suddenly came into wealth in the pits. "No one needs that kind of charity.” 

"Meaning?" 

I sigh and study the stars. "The moment someone has money, someone else wants it." 

"Is that why you gave my swords back? They were and are yours now. You won them from me."  

I hum and nod. "Food, I will steal. Possessions, I won't. You don't have to worry about me asking for them back unless I want to borrow them for training or it's out of necessity." Even then, the idea of asking Graycastle for something like his swords makes my stomach churn. 

We sit in silence for a little while longer, until we're interrupted by a scraping noise coming from near my legs. I drag myself closer to Graycastle as quietly as I can, and he shifts towards me, holding the bottle of whiskey. 

Xaden Riorson appears at the ledge. He pauses halfway up, and stares at Graycastle and me. 

I feel the hole reopen in my chest. If I had taken my mother's message to Fen Riorson all those years ago, who knows what would have happened. 

"Nothing," Tân supplies, "he already knew of the Venin and by the time he began the war, he had all of the information he needed." 

“Just keep climbing,” I say to Riorson when I notice Graycastle outright glaring at him. “I know it's your house, but he won't leave and I don't think I can stomach speaking to you both.” 

"I was here first," Graycastle scoffs.

I try not to react to the realisation he's within touching distance of me now. 

“Were you, Calldyr?” I ask, raising a brow, my gaze flicking from the whiskey bottle to his green eyes. 

Graycastle smirks and takes a swig of his flask. He turns to Riorson. "Like Zynd said, keep climbing, Riorson. I've had enough of this whiskey to duel, and I'm sure they need you alive." 

"Oh, please. Riorson would win and you'd be flattened on the flagstones below." I stand and clap my hands together. "I'll go. Malek knows there's better things I could be doing with my time than getting between a glaring contest." 

One person in my space is more than enough, let alone two. I wipe my hands on my shirt and walk barefoot along the roof, tracing my fingers over the wall in case I slip and need to hold on. I reach a five foot gap in tile and jump across it with ease, then continue on. I reckon my room must be along here somewhere, as it's the same level. 

Reaching my balcony, I climb through the open window. I have grand plans to change once more and go to the training room to punch something, but I almost scream when I see blonde in my bed.

I head to my door and grab my boots. I've got one boot in hand, ready to throw, when I realise it's not Liam sleeping there, it's Sloane. 

With a smile, I retreat to my balcony and sit down, staring up at the stars again. It's not a roof, but it'll do, and I don't want Sloane to wake up on her own. 

Sloane joins me on the balcony an hour later, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She's dressed in a white gown and, barefoot, she looks like one of the angels the religious nuts in the pits told us about. I reach inside my room and pick up my wildflower crown, which I place on her head. She smiles and traces the flowers lightly.

“You were gone for a while,” Sloane says through a yawn. "I heard you get back and came in to wait for you." 

“I'm sorry, I went to get a drink.” 

We sit there, until I break and tell her everything Tân told me. It's only at the end that I realise I didn't swear her to secrecy so technically Sloane could turn around and tell anyone. I open my mouth to add this addendum when she speaks.

“I won't tell anyone,” she promises. "Never. Not unless you ask me to." 

“Not even Liam?” I ask. "Or Sorrengail?" 

“Not even Liam,” Sloane promises again. “He might be my brother but right here, in this room, on this balcony?” She clicks her tongue. “He's an idiot. And I would never tell Sorrengail."

I smile up at the stars again. 

“You shouldn't tell anyone else," Sloane instructs a few minutes later. "Just for now, I mean. About your mum and bonding with Tân? It's probably best kept hidden. Trust me.” 

“Why?”

Sloane sighs. “Liam and I both bonded with dragons who had previous bonds within our family. Lots of people here have, but Liam told me that you need to explore what this means to you before you tell people. It could mean... It could mean a second signet. I'm still waiting for my first to come in, but imagine ending up with two." 

"Fuck."

"Yeah. I think that's why people go insane sometimes. Tân will need to help you with that when it happens."

I hum and wonder what Tân was planning on telling me if I manifested a second fucking signet one day. And, maybe... Does walking in death count as a second signet? 

"It does not, little one," Tân says, snorting. "You have not manifested yours yet."

"Thank you." 

"What if I already told Graycastle?" I ask Sloane. "About my mother?" 

“Why would you talk to him? I thought you didn't like him.”

Rising to my knees, I groan and lean my head out slightly, angling until I can see Graycastle's stupid grey trousers. He's still there, which means he must have got rid of Riorson. “I don't like him, you're right, but yeah... I told him.” 

"Well he's in my squad," Sloane says, "I'll make sure he doesn't mention it to anyone.”

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime, Fen.”

I chuckle. “My name's Ryn. My actual name, I mean.” 

“Huh,” she laughs, “anytime, Ryn."  

Chapter Text

At breakfast, we find all three Sorrengails left overnight, as did Riorson. Not fled, left. No one seems sure where, but if they're together and our dragons say it's safe, there's not much for us to worry about. 

We have the morning off Battle Brief as Devera focuses on History for the new Riders who joined us from the outposts. Physics, we collectively decide to bunk thanks to a dragon-sent message from Ridoc. There's just a lightness in the air. With Riorson and Brennan gone, it feels like we can all relax a little after a rather shit week. 

So, Cohen and I do as we always do with our free time, and change into our workout gear before heading down to the training room. Riorson House really is equipped for anything. The fact there are barracks big enough to house over a hundred cadets and an additional forty-plus riders is a testament to that, let alone the rest. 

There are a few training rooms outfitted with everything from swords and daggers to climbing equipment and den building gear, but Cohen and I choose the one with hanging punching bags, gigantic grain sacks, and weights.

Dain Aetos is already inside when we walk in, and I nod to him.

It's the first time I've been relatively alone in his presence since he was cleared to work with the Revolution, and I'm not sure if I should go over and say thank you again for his help on the Parapet, but at the same time I don't really fancy getting into specifics. Workout time is sacred. 

Aetos nods and goes back to his workout, which answers my unasked question. 

While Cohen begins his round of weights, I wrap my knuckles in tape and begin punching a hanging bag. There's no rhyme or reason to it, I just punch as someone's face pops into my head. 

I punch the man who took me to the fighting pits (multiple times). 

I punch each and every one of the men and women who attacked my mother. 

I punch Tân, who growls at me through our bond. "Careful," she says. 

"Come on, like I could actually do any damage," I retort, punching the bag again.  

I punch Liam for choosing Sorrengail when I wanted him to choose me. 

I punch Bodhi for choosing Sorrengail when I wanted him to choose me. 

I punch myself for ever thinking half a boyfriend was enough. 

I punch Varrish for, well, I just punch the shit out of him and thank Sorrengail and Riorson for their roles in killing the fucker. 

I'm about to punch Graycastle's smug face because he found my safe place, when Sloane walks in and waves. I stop and wave back, walking over to her when she hovers by the door rather than coming over.

"I haven't spoken to Aaric yet," Sloane says apologetically. "It seems like everyone had the same idea to train this morning, and I was wondering-"

"Mini-Mairi!" Cohen shouts, interrupting Sloane. He grins and waves from his machine, and she returns the gesture. "You coming in?" 

Sloane's cheeks redden. "I was going to ask if that was okay." 

"Always," Cohen says, wiping down his station. "You're an honourary Second Winger, right Ryn?" 

"Right." I only told Cohen I'd like to go by Ryn from now on a few hours ago, and he's already adapted to the change. I love him so much. 

"No. Fourth Wing until she dies, right Mairi?" Aetos calls through clenched teeth, from his...

Huh. It's actually quite impressive. He's upside down with his arms outstretched holding onto two small rings which hang from the ceiling. He lowers his legs slowly to his chest before lifting them again so he's in an aerial handstand.

Sloane and I tilt our heads in unison as he begins his round again, and I squint a little as I try to work out what that kind of training would be good for. Abs, probably. Or maybe it's an adaptation of the mat workout Cohen and I do, with our push-ups into handstands.

Aetos swings his body down, releases the rings, and lands with both feet together. "What?" he asks, grabbing a towel and running it over the back of his neck. 

"Nothing," Sloane says, heading over to the racks.

"You need to shave," I call, waving a hand over my chin. "Looking a bit scraggly there, Aetos." 

"Anyone would have thought I'd been locked up for the weekend," he retorts with a smile.

I laugh, shaking my head as I grab a resistance band connected to a hook on the wall. I'm wrapping it around my waist when Cohen slides a stationary rolling mat under my feet. "Thanks," I say, beginning my run. Cohen straps himself in next to me and matches my pace easily.  

We train in relative harmony for another half an hour before we're interrupted by Bodhi, who ducks his head in. 

"All good?" he asks, looking around. His gaze lands on me and his throat bobs. 

I'm worried he's going to come over and speak to me, but Sloane drops her weights and asks him something, and I go back to spotting Cohen.

"I don't know why you ask me to do this," I say, holding my hand under the long metal bar he holds above him. "I couldn't hold this up if I tried." 

"True," Cohen groans, voice straining just like the vein in his throat. He presses the bar to his chest then lifts. "But at least I now know you could revive me if I passed out."

"True," I say, echoing his words. "How long do you think you've got until you reach your goal?" 

"If he'll stop eating cake, I reckon another twenty-five pounds." 

"Huh, not bad." It's always been Cohen's dream to be able to take on Garrick on the mat and win. Since he has no chance in hell of sparring with him now, his new goal is to bench press his weight. Brisa finds it weird. As do most people. I think anything that keeps Cohen focused is good. Don't want him turning to churam again. 

Cohen returns the bar to the hook and I step away, glad to see Bodhi's gone. We're next interrupted by Graycastle. Again, Sloane heads over. This, I watch closely. 

Graycastle is wearing his sparring leathers and his sandy-brown hair looks almost blonde under the mage lights. I narrow my eyes at his frame. He's always so... upright. So... uptight. It makes me want to punch that bag again. Graycastle frowns at something Sloane says. His gaze meets mine. He says something I can't hear, and nods at me at the same time. 

"Well that was weird," Sloane says when I reach her after Graycastle's gone, taking Aetos with him. "He said he thought you would know he wouldn't mention it. I didn't realise you were that close."

"We aren't," I say, frowning. Oh. He mentioned his mother's death the other night. I make a mental note not to mention his mum either. "Anyway, thank you for running defense." 

"Not a problem," Sloane says, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought it was bad enough when you were with Liam, but it's harder now knowing it's Bodhi too. You know they're just lying in wait, right?" 

I curl my lip. "Ugh, yeah, I'm not in the mood for it though." Between Tân, and my training session, I feel much more equipped to tell both men to fuck off. 

"What's that?" Cohen throws his bag over his shoulder and saunters to my side. 

Shit. I do not want Cohen to hear about this. He'll get all soppy on me again and I need to be strong. 

"Mats." Sloane nods to the door and saves me yet again. "The Riders got out of History and said they'll show us cadets how it's done. Graycastle was just telling me I should head in."

"Brilliant," Cohen says with a grin. He pats his bag. "Got the rest your stuff, Ryn. Let's go." 

"Stretches!" I call, following him and Sloane and grabbing my bag on the way out. He's ridiculous. Usually he's the one reminding me. 

"Eh I'll do them after." 

"You go on," I say when we walk past the sparring gym. There's already a multitude of riders and cadets crowded around, cheering. "I'm going for a shower. Don't do anything stupid," I tell Cohen. "Be good." 

"Always am." Cohen grins and runs a finger down my arm. "Now our sweat's mingling," he says, winking as he turns and walks into the sparring gym. "I'm next!" he shouts, holding up a hand. 

I shudder and search my bag for my towel, only to see it tucked into Cohen's bag. I don't want to go inside and get waylaid, so I run as fast as I can to my room.

After a long shower and stretch, I head to the library. With wall to ceiling bookcases, gold ladders on wheels, and wide windows, it's easily the most beautiful room I've been in so far.

When I arrive, there's no one around, but a table at the back of the gigantic room has a stack of books atop it, which tells me someone's coming back. 

I'm not sure where to start in my search for answers. Sloane and I are meeting later to discuss the weapons and more, so I know I should focus on the revolution and anything that can show me what it was like before the war. 

There's not a librarian, so I walk to the nearest bookcase and try to see if there are any identifiers. It takes me over an hour thanks to my aching arms and lethargic muscles which protest climbing the ladders, but I work out the filing system. Another thirty or so minutes and I'm holding three Tyrrish texts in hand. 

I walk to the table with the stacks of books, and my eyes widen. They're all Tyrrish, and a range of histories, what looks like fairy tales, and something about customs and marriage contracts. Those two, I give a miss. The others, I start to flick through. 

I'm halfway into a small text on the meanings of each type of dragon when a gong rings out, taking my attention. Shit. Lunch.

"Hello?" I call out. "Is anyone here?" There's no answer. 

I don't have a pen and paper to write down the names of the books, and I'm not sure if I can take them from the library itself, so I reluctantly leave most of them, and hide the tomes on dragons and Tyrrish fighting techniques behind a few books on a nearby shelf. 

I'll come back for them. 

When I arrive at lunch, Liam and Bodhi are standing in line. I join behind them and start taking things from the cabinet - yoghurt, fresh fruit, the last two biscuits... Gods, training has made me work up an appetite. I start drooling and finish off a bowl of fruit within a minute while I wait. 

"Hey," Liam says, smiling at me. I imagine Sloane must have spoken to him, because he's not been as in my face as he was the other day, and she's been vocal about being on my side with things. Gods, I love her. 

"Hi," I say with a small smile, leaning round him to take a plate of rice and stew from the server.

I offer the woman a bright smile which she returns. Here, the servers aren't other cadets, they're Aretians. It makes it feel more like home. And, they know how to properly season food, which is always a plus. 

"How are you?" Bodhi asks, shifting down the line when the dessert selection opens up for him. 

"Fine," I say.

"Didn't feel like fighting today?" Bodhi asks.

I grimace and shake my head. "Not really." From the look of the bruise on his bicep, he was on the mats. I frown and look around, then lower my voice. "Hey, do you know if we're allowed to take books out of the library? Or do they have to stay there?" 

"You can take them out," Bodhi says. "You're not meant to, but I'll have a word." 

"Thanks."

"No problem." Bodhi sighs and takes his tray off to one of the tables.

"I've actually been working on a list of books you might want to read," Liam says, moving on to the desserts. 

My eyes widen at the thought of the stack on the table, specifically the ones on marriage contracts. "What kind of books?" I ask slowly. 

"Ones of our histories. Aretia in general, some further afield." Liam removes a piece of parchment from the bag at his side and hands it to me. "It's not finished, but I'll just start a new one." 

I run down the list, whispering the names, and let out a slow exhale. None of them were on the table, and most are in Navarrian. Thank fuck. 

"This is perfect, thank you." I pocket the list and grab a hunk of bread from the tray, then wait for Liam to choose his cake before I grab something.

"Has Sloane explained everything yet?" Liam asks, ducking his head.

"Not yet," I say, nodding at Sloane, who's waiting for me at the end of the line. Her lips are pursed and her eyes are half lidded as she looks at her brother. I would say she's not impressed he's speaking to me, but that would be an understatement. "That's what we're doing over lunch." 

Sloane and I take our food to the gardens and sit on the bench where I found Graycastle's bag the first day we were here. I make Sloane wait five minutes, and sure enough Graycastle arrives with his lunch.

He sees us in his space, curses, and makes a rude hand gesture at me. Sloane and I reciprocate the gesture, and he rolls his eyes and stalks away to find somewhere else to eat. 

Once he's gone, I let Sloane begin. 

"Shit," I whisper, staring at the rose bushes in front of me. "They just have one use?"

Sloane began with an explanation of the Venin killing blades - the weapons Basgiath have been forging, and the marked ones and Tân have been dropping off outside the borders of Navarre. There, they're picked up by Fliers from Poromiel and used to fight Venin on the actual front line which is now anywhere within reaching distance of Zolya.

And they really fucking need these weapons, because dragonfire doesn't work on the fuckers. And the blades are single use. Single. Fucking. Use. 

My heart races as Sloane continues speaking. That's why they've needed to do multiple drops. And I thought the Wyvern and Venin I barely saw at Resson were enough to haunt my nightmares. Now I find out they're practically indestructible?

I suck in a breath. I need to go back to the training rooms and work on my dagger throws. And my dagger work in general. Because Tân's right. If I went into battle, she would have to fight Wyvern with her teeth and claws, but I would be defenceless if I can't get up close and personal. And it's not like I could ask her to protect me via her fire. It wouldn't work. 

And now I know it's the other way around for Wyvern and their riders. If a Wyvern falls, the 'rider' survives. 

No wonder Tân reminded me of that at Resson. She was shit scared, but I was too shit scared myself to understand her intonation. 

"This... is... horrifying," I say slowly, trying to catch my breath. 

"Yup. And it would have been a hell of a lot better if Sorrengail's mother hadn't murdered Fen Riorson and our parents." 

Rubbing my temples, I try to think of what to say, but nothing seems appropriate for the death of a parent like that. Not for Sloane. I can't joke about this with her. Not when I know exactly what it's like to see your mother die. 

"Hey," she says, nudging my arm. "I was thinking about it all day, and I realised we could have known each other. As kids, I mean. When's your birthday?" 

"July." 

She grins. "January. Which means you're only half a year younger than me." 

"I left Aretia when I was about four, almost five," I say, frowning. "I'm actually not sure where we went. I thought it was Luceras because that's where I ended up, but my mother said to fly back to Tyrrendor to give a message, so could have been anywhere." 

Sloane nods. "I've been thinking about that as well. Annoyingly there were quite a few riders who died in the years before the war, but I reckon we can find your parents if we dig deep enough." 

"Tân says we can't." I take a bite of biscuit, frowning into the distance as I chew. "Yelen wasn't my mother's given name." 

Sloane deflates and her shoulders droop. She hums and taps her leg. "We'll find a way. I'm sure of it."

The gong sounds again and, looking down at my half finished lunch, I groan and spend the walk back to the dining hall shovelling food into my mouth. Sloane laughs at me and I grin. 

"Tân?" I ask, the smile falling from my lips. 

"Yes, little one?" Tân sounds alert, as if she's been waiting for me to ask her something.

"Plath. Am I allowed to know about her yet?" 

"No, little one, not until graduation," Tân replies. I can feel her anxiety heighten through our bond. "That is important."

"Why?"

"You can only take so much death, little one." 

Chapter Text

The next afternoon, we return to the mats. The Sorrengails still haven't returned and after our daily run, our physics and history classes, and Battle Brief, someone convinces Professor Emmeterio to let us spar again. Cohen drags me along, and we stand on the edge of the main mat. 

I don't like the way riders pass coins and notes to each other at the end of each fight, but who knows what it's like at the outposts? This could be a daily occurrence. 

And, Cohen whispers his own bets beside me. If I can ignore him, I should ignore them. 

"Volunteers," Emmeterio calls. 

I'm not planning on volunteering, because I'm not a fucking idiot. This isn't Basgiath, and even there, I didn't enjoy fighting on the mat.

Only, a bout ends and I'm too busy looking up at the rafters and trying to figure out how I'd climb up and what I'd do when I was there, to notice Cohen, my squad, and the rest of the line around me take a collective step backwards. I'm left front and centre. I jump back, but not quick enough.

Cohen's wry smile tells me he did this on purpose, and he's betting on me. 

"Ah, Zynd," Emmeterio calls. "You're up." 

Oh fuck. Throwing my head back, I groan and internally whimper. Still, I step onto the mat. Cohen had better give half his winnings, or not complain to me about his losses, depending on how this goes. 

"You should pay more attention, little one," Tân chuffs. She sounds too happy about this. "I am happy. It is good practice." 

"I could get beaten again." 

"Emmeterio would never let it get that far."

I raise my eyebrow at the smear of blood someone's wiping off the mat with a rag.

"Focus on your opponent," Tân chides. 

The rider I'm fighting, Sythalk, is smaller than me. I've seen her techniques from the last round which she won, and the round before that. We're not allowed to use magic or our signets on the mat, and she's fast, dodging and weaving around her taller opponents. But she's getting tired so I should have more range and more power. 

"Good. Anything else?" 

Yeah, I'm more than a bit scared of taking on a rider with as much experience as her. Okay. Solutions. I use my signet to push my magic out across the mat to look for any injuries I can exploit. 

I guess it's not technically cheating if we haven't started yet. And from what I've seen so far, the riders don't really care until the bout's started. Once it has, they stick to the rules. But they don't play fair. And, they don't want nice or held back.

"Assessment?" 

"She has a dodgy shoulder. She's trying to hide it but it must hurt. I can work with that."

"Good." Tân yawns. "I will stay awake long enough to see you win." 

"Thanks I guess." 

The moment Emmeterio says to start, I bounce to the middle of the mat, bring my hands to my face, dodge Sythalk's first attempt at a blow to my gut, then throw all my weight behind a jab to her injured shoulder. 

Sythalk goes straight down and I dodge back into a defensive position that I don't need because... she just stays down. 

Oops. 

The silence is deafening. Sythalk doesn't look too young. She's maybe forty? Maybe older. Old enough that there's a chance she's dead. I push my magic out again. Okay, not dead, but knocked out from the pain. She'll definitely need that shoulder mended.

From the lack of people offering to help her, I would say either they're in shock, or they hate her. Either way, I crouch and place my hand on her shoulder. It seems like it's old scar tissue, because when I take on the injury there's an intense ache, but nothing snaps back into place like a broken bone would. Tân's magic flows through my body quickly, healing all traces of injury in seconds.  

Tân laughs loudly, chuffing. "Oh, little one. I must tell Chradh of this."  

Sythalk gasps awake and I help her to sit up, guiding her head between her knees so she can recover. Once she has, she scowls up at me. 

"My shoulder," she says, clutching the now mended spot. 

"I fixed it for you. Aisereigh and Riorson aren't here and we need everyone at their peak in case of an attack."

I can't imagine what will happen if she doesn't have the right rotation in her arm and a Venin attacks her from behind. Or a wyvern. It doesn't beg imagining. And if she were the last line of defence...? 

"You fixed my shoulder?" she breathes. 

"Yes."

"I have had that injury for years!" she shouts. "Since the Battle of Montserrat in 612!" 

I sit back on my haunches. Fuck. Right, so she's a battle axe, and I've just fixed an old war wound that's older than me. Didn't think this could get any worse, but hey, when the bar falls into hell, there's still lower it can go. 

"I'm... sorry," I say, standing. 

Sythalk rises with me. "You're sorry? You're sorry!?" 

Emmeterio! I whine internally. Just end this! She was already passed out. 

"You must end this, little one," Tân growls, adopting her offensive tone, "knock her out."

Doing as instructed, I plant my feet and slam my fist between Sythalk's eyes. She sways on her feet for a moment, then drops onto her back, arms and legs splayed on the mat.  

"Okay, she's definitely out now," I say to Emmeterio, drawing my eyebrows together as I assess the woman. "Can I go?" 

Emmeterio just starts laughing. "Volunteers?" 

This time, a multitude of hands go up and the roar of calls and shouts almost overwhelms me. Someone grabs Sythalk's legs and drags her off the mat, as riders and cadets wave and the betters holler to each other. 

"I'm good," I say, shaking my head. "Really, Professor, I don't want to fight again."

"Unfortunately the choice is not yours. No one leaves the mat until they yield in a match," Emmeterio says. He holds up his hand and silence falls. "Mairi, Liam!" 

The roar of the crowd as Liam steps onto the mat is even louder. He frowns at me, and I return to my starting position. What is he playing at? 

When the challenge starts, Liam mouths something and pats the mat, then points at me. Ah, he's telling me how I can get out of this. I lean down, double tap the mat, and step away. There's a collective groan from the audience. 

“No. No one leaves the mat unless they're injured,” Emmeterio calls.

I reckon a broken heart counts, so I keep going. 

Suddenly, all the cadets and graduated riders around the mat step in unison. They widen their stances and cross their arms, creating a barricade. Some grin at me, some glare, and Cohen shouts, "You got this, Ryn!" 

“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. 

I wait at my end of the mat for long enough to know Liam’s not going to attack first. But I don't want to fight him. I just want to walk away in peace. There is a part of me that wants to return to how it was before, but before wasn't good. For any of us. 

I've ruminated on it with all the knowledge of the Venin and weapons, and pieced together what Bodhi and Liam both said to me. They wanted me, yes, just as I wanted them. But they didn't have the time for me. Not really. Lust drove them to try, and maybe they felt strongly like they said and like I did and do, but they didn't have the time then and they still don't now. It's not fair. 

And however shit I feel right now, however much I wake up thinking I want to speak to Bodhi or tell Liam something, or see Liam's smile, or be in one of their embraces, I think it'll feel more shit if I don't stick it out and stay strong. If I went back, I'd be vulnerable. And I've been hurt too much already. Tân's right. My life is potentially short. And I need to focus on training. 

So I need to be strong. 

Making my way over to Liam feels like the longest walk, even longer than the one to get to Tân on the flight fields at Basgiath. I stop in front of him, eyes trained on his black clad chest. I can feel his eyes boring holes into my face. 

"Let's go!" 

"End him!"

"You got this, Mairi!" 

"Dagger! Dagger! Dagger!" 

Gods. The bloodlust is insane. The shouts get louder and louder and I can tell why people might enjoy this. Not the fighting or the betting, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins. It makes me want to run, or fight. My hands ache for weapons. My body, trained for taking down enemies, wants to use my skills. My muscles twitch and shake. 

Grasping the hilt of one of the daggers at Liam's ribs, I slide it from its sheath and place it on my open palm. It's a good weight, well balanced. The blade isn't too long either. And it's sharp. Good. 

“Fenryn,” Liam whispers, eyeing up the blade. “Not my idea." 

"Whose?" 

"Not sure." Sighing, he rubs the back of his neck. "You pushed me off a mountain so maybe it's Emmeterio's version of a sick joke? Look, I can tell you don't want this, so tell me what to do to make it look like you lost, and I'll do it."

"That's okay, I've got this." I twirl the dagger in my hand and swing it down. The blade slides into the outer flesh of my thigh, avoiding any veins and too-important areas.

The cheers and chants stop.

Liam lets out a garbled cry and reaches for me, but I’m already at the floor, double tapping the mat. The pain isn't even that bad. Not like what I went through to heal Liam and Sorrengail. 

“For fuck's sake, Ryn,” Bodhi growls from the side of the mat. 

I turn to Emmeterio and point to the dagger. "Ow. I yield." 

Emmeterio shakes his head. 

"You're good," I say to Liam, offering him a smile when I rise. "Thank you for offering to throw the match. I'll get Sloane to give the knife back later."

I've healed more than my fair share of broken legs and stabbings for others, that I manage to walk off the mat without limping much. Of course, I leave the dagger in my leg. I'm not stupid. I'm not taking it out until I know I can mend myself in private.

"You just stabbed yourself in the leg so you wouldn't have to touch or speak to your ex?" Brisa asks.

"Fight," I correct, wincing as I spin on my good leg to face the mat. I clasp my hands behind my back and wait for the next bout. "Didn't want to fight him. We just have a full conversation. And he didn't want to fight me either." 

"Fucking badass," Mirabel says. 

"I feel both scared and aroused,” Tomas says.

"I'm just aroused," Cohen mutters.

Mirabel, Brisa and I lean round to glare at Cohen, who shrugs. 

"You owe her half your winnings," Brisa snaps. "Do you want me to make you give her everything?" 

Cohen grumbles but he knows Brisa's not playing. It's not the first time he's bet on me and had to give her or me everything because he's been an idiot. 

"Alright!" Emmeterio shouts, waving his hand. "Volunteers against Mairi?" 

Tân stands huffs and shifts. Leaning forwards, I rub her back and assess the view. 

The Sorrengails and Riorson returned on Thursday, luckily after the fights had ended. I say luckily, because the news they had to deliver was... shocking to say the least. 

Poromiel flier cadets will be joining us in Aretia.

Some rider cadets, like me, found the idea a little easier to adjust to while it's still off-putting, but some of the others and most of the graduated Riders needed a little more persuasion. 

We prepared and packed last night. We were meant to get a good night's sleep, but I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, Malek's river sounded in my ears. I wandered the gardens and paths around Riorson House for a while until Tân shouted at me and ordered me back to bed. Something about me disturbing her rest with all my grumbling and stomping through our bond.

I checked my bag three times, making sure I had everything for the three day assignment, then went to sleep for two hours.

Now, on Tân's back, standing with the hundred cadets and hundred fliers, I understand why the river still rushes in my ears. 

This will be an incredibly dangerous twelve hour climb. 

The pass we'll be taking to accompany the fliers and their gryphons back to Aretia is miniscule. And they're telling us to climb it. With gryphons. Like actual winged creatures. While getting to know one another. And hoping no one pushes us off. For twelve hours.

I might be the only person smiling by the time Brennan finishes his instructions. "It does look like a glorious route." 

"Have fun, little one," Tân says when they tell us our dragons will fly overhead and they'll be splitting us into sections based on our squad size and the flier drift size. "Stay safe." 

Chapter Text

"How you doing?" Cohen sings in my ear. 

"I fucking hate this," I mutter, nearly tripping over Mirabel's feet for the hundredth time.

Cohen laughs, but it's not funny. We're still only an hour or so into the twelve hour walk through the rock pass and I'm already fed up.

I should have slept last night.

Tân chuffs. "Yes, you should have." 

"What?" Mirabel asks over her shoulder. 

"Cohen wants to know how we're doing." My eyes narrow at the back of her perfect blonde braid and I sniff in more of the earthy air. As we get higher, it gets sweeter and clearer, but it still smells strongly of the damp earth from below. "I said you're holding up okay." 

"Liar," Cohen laughs. "Brisa and Tomas are fine." 

I relay this to Mirabel, who thanks me. It's not that Cohen can't speak to Mirabel, but distractions aren't what she needs right now. 

"How can you hear him?" the flier behind me, Ryanne, asks. She's not been too talkative thus far. Not since I tried to bond over the fact we both have similar names and she said, 'Are you going to be this excited when I tell you I know someone called Rynna? Because if yes, please don't.' I gave up around then. "He's twenty feet back at least." 

"Can I share your signet?" I ask Cohen, addressing thin air because Ryanne is right - Cohen's twenty feet back at least. "Just generally?"

"Eh. Fine by me," he replies. "What are they going to do? Shout me to death?" 

I chuckle. "Cohen can manipulate sound," I reply, navigating a small strip of path. "He's a dick, so the first thing he did was figure out how to use his signet to mess with people and make them think someone was behind them. It just happens it's also useful for things like this. He can project his voice and hear my reply." 

"What can you do?" Ryanne asks.

"Mend. I've only ever managed to heal people though," I lie, "so don't come to me with any socks that need darning. What about you?" 

"I don't know. I haven't channelled yet," Ryanne says.

Humming, I follow Mirabel around the next turn.

Fourth Wing are leading the way up the cliff pass. It went Third Wing behind them, then us. Liam ran over to me before we began the ascent and said something about knowing the look on my face and wanting to give me answers. Which is why I know the only reason Fourth Wing went first is that there's more of them, and Bodhi's Section are fully stocked with riders. But it still felt like a dig when Brennan said the order. We're Second Wing. We should go, you know, second.

I'm bringing up the rear of a gryphon which under normal circumstances would have me excited as they're such a new sight for me, but... well, Mirabel's scared. And I'm behind Mirabel. Which means every time she stalls on the path because the gryphon swings its tail, I walk into her back. Then, she gets spooked. 

I can't blame her too much, I'd be more than a bit scared if my uncle had been killed in a gryphon attack... Shit, I sound so insensitive... 

Behind me is Ryanne and her gryphon, and she glares at me every time I turn around, so I'm rather stuck. 

Which means, I feel too claustrophobic and cooped up even though we're outside.

I want to be walking ahead, climbing, or jumping between these rock faces. Instead I'm walking the gryphon equivalent of a parapet, at the pace of one of my best friends who's almost half a foot shorter than me, while I try to resist the urge to kill her because SHE WON'T STOP PAUSING ON THE PATH.

"Little one," Tân warns. 

"Patience is a virtue I'm not sure I possess," I say quickly though the mind equivalent of clenched teeth. 

"You possess it in abundance. Your lack of sleep is catching up with you. You must rest soon."

"All I need is to heal someone and I'll get a boost." 

Hours later, I'm mindlessly walking. I stopped really 'thinking' a while back, and now my gaze is fixed on Mirabel's backpack as I silently walk behind her. I have no concept of time anymore. Each minute rolls into the other without rhyme or reason. The ache in my feet matches the ache in my chest and Malek's river- 

"Little one, save this for your diary." 

"I don't have a diary." 

Tân growls. "I will make Chradh order his rider to gift you one. If only to save my ears from your whining." 

The idea of Tân making Garrick present me with a nice notebook appeals so much it distracts me for the next minute as I think of what colour I would want, what paper weight... If I could persuade her to make him get me a pen as well...

The line stops, and Malek's river sounds even louder in my ears. "Tân, something's happening."

"I cannot see past the cover of mist. You must determine the issue yourself." 

"Coh?" I ask.

"Honey-bun?" Cohen replies.

"Not the time," I grumble, not in the mood for his stupid nicknames. "I think something's about to go wrong. What can you hear?" 

"There's a hold up ahead," Cohen answers a half-minute later. "Fourth Wing are having trouble getting one of their fliers across one of the traps."

Ah, the traps. Flier and gryphon traps. They're set up all around, and they're... inventive. Old school... Deadly as anything. We've passed more than a few now and each time we do, I give more respect to the fliers around us - to be doing this they really are badass.

"Okay, all good," I say. "Thanks." 

"Not a problem," Cohen replies. "Mirabel good? Tomas is worried." 

I lean slightly and see Tomas ahead, craning his neck to see round the gryphons. 

"Mirabel?" I ask. "You alright?" 

"Yeah. Bit too close to this tail," she calls back. 

I start to shuffle back. "Okay, I can back up." 

"No you can't," calls Ryanne from behind me. 

"Right, okay." I stop still and assess the route. The path is wider here. Maybe four feet across. An idea forms. "Mir, do you want to swap places?" 

"Yes!" 

"Okay hasty," I laugh, as Mirabel begins to shuffle backwards. I raise my voice to call over my shoulder. "Ryanne? Mirabel's a little too close to that gryphon tail in front of us so she's switching with me for the wait, okay?" 

"Fine by me," Ryanne replies, sounding about as enthusiastic as a ceramic plate.

Then again, it could also be the altitude. There's still at least an hour left of the climb and she fell silent about the same time I did. I'm just not as affected by the breathlessness up there - with Tân's magic channelling through me again, I'm back to enjoying being above the clouds. 

Mirabel edges back and I go round on the drop-side. It's safer that way since I can actually see what's going on, and I'm not stepping backwards with no real space to turn around. 

The flier in front of Mirabel glances back with a panicked look on his face that I know too well from the pits. Desperation mixed with fear is a disastrous combination.

"It's a trap. It's a trap!" he shouts. 

"It's not a fucking trap," I snap, reaching Mirabel's previous spot, "we're just swapping because your gryphon's tail is going to take her eye out." 

"She's right, Sam," Ryanne calls.

The flier ignores her. He's panting and his face is so pale, there's only one thing that could be wrong with him - it's the altitude. He can't think clearly. 

Fucking great. This is all we need. I try to temper my tone but I know I sound annoyed. "Just calm, alright? No one's dropping fliers around here." His gryphon snaps her beak at me. "I promise, okay? No one's dropping anyone." She shakes her lion tail and whips it out at me. Rude.

The flier, Sam, turns round to watch ahead of us, just in time to see... Sorrengail fall and... drop a flier. The look he gives me... 

"Ryanne!" I cry, trying to put as much space between myself and Sam as possible. "Ryanne! He's going to-"

Sam grabs me by the scruff of my shirt, lifting me into the air and silencing me in one fell swoop. My hands grab at his sleeve and arm as my legs try to find purchase on the cliff path that isn't there. I'm treading air. Fuck. He's holding me over the fucking drop. 

This is it. The final act of a desperate person. I can see the terror and regret in his eye but it's too late. He's made a rash decision and he can't think of how to solve it. I've seen it too often in my short life to not recognise it now. 

"Sam! Let her go!" Ryanne commands.

"Hey! Put her back on the ledge now!" Bodhi sounds just as scared as I feel, but I can't take my eyes off the reddening eyes of the flier.

Bodhi can't make it here in time. He's at the back of Fourth Wing but he'd need to go through the entirety of the Third Wing and our Second Wing Claw Section before he reached us, and there's no space for him to sprint. 

I try to shuck my bag to lose some weight. Maybe then Sam will bring me back onto the ledge, but I only succeed in getting the hip straps off before my shaking hands drop my dagger as the pit in my stomach grows. 

"Let her go!" Ryanne commands again. 

"Fuck," I sob. I can see the instant Sam understands Ryanne's order. And Ryanne couldn't have said a worse thing. "Sam, get me to the path." 

"I..." Sam's eyes begin to roll. Before he passes out, he does as he was told. He lets me go, essentially throwing me off. 

And this isn't like the gauntlet. My pack is heavy, dragging me down backwards. My hands aren't clear to grab hold of the rockface. I can't roll over in the air.

It's like I'm falling. 

No, I am falling. 

As I disappear into the mist, for a split second I see my father's smiling face above me. I hold out my hands and he says, "No marks. Good, little one." 

"I always land on my back," I whisper. 

Darkness surrounds me, pushing against my head and torso from all sides until I can barely breathe. Malek's rushing river pounds and splashes behind me. I don't turn round, I just press forwards and keep going until I can't hear the water any longer. Until I can't feel anything. 

"Tân?" 

"Little one! What did I say about keeping safe?" Tân screams. I can hear her grief and terror. I can even taste it in the metal on my tongue, and smell it in the earthy air. 

I wince and squeeze my eyes shut. "Ah fuck. Little quieter, please?" I don't know how long I've been out, but my head throbs, and I'm tired from the effort of running from Malek's river.

Tân's anxiety rolls through me, crushing any excitement I had at being alive.

"Where are you?" she whines. 

"No idea."

"Are you still injured?" I know what she means - are you healing well? 

"I think I'm okay... I'm not sure yet." 

"Climb. Now." It's a command, and one I sincerely hope I can adhere to.

I have so much left to life for. Namely, to finally find out my own name. I can't die not knowing that.

I groan and try to sit up, but hear a whimper somewhere below and pause my attempts. "Hello?" 

Another whimper, but no words. Channelling from Tân, I let the magic push down the cliffside, searching for the injured flier. It must be her - the one who fell. Unless someone else got dropped. And if someone else got dropped, I hope to the gods it wasn't Mirabel. That would break me. It would break Tomas. It would break us all. I don't even entertain the idea it might be Brisa - she wouldn't have been so stupid as to do what I did and swap places. 

"Tân, there's someone else down here. Can I help her?" 

Tan snorts. "The flier. No one else fell. Yes, little one. If she is alive it is a miracle. Do help her."

I focus on channelling the magic from Tân into the woman who fell, healing her injuries one by one. I think of what Brennan said, and I focus on healing the scratches to her legs and arms, and the other surface injuries first, then I go for the big ones. Her body's quite small, so I take on her injuries easily, hearing the snaps of my bones. I don't even feel it. 

I smile. That's good. 

Tân calls through our bond. "There are still wyverns above. Tairn has commanded the dragons to retreat from the mist. Stay where you are. I will return when it is safe."  

The flier screams below me. She's awake. Good. 

"Help!" she cries. "Help!" 

"It's okay!" I yell. "I'm a rider. I'm a rider! I mended you. You have to stay quiet! Wyverns above!"

The flier falls silent and we listen, staring up into the white mist. There's barely a sound until we see a flash of bright light, followed by a cascade of rocks which come tumbling and crashing down from above. 

"Tuck into the wall!" I yell, but I'm too slow. I can't roll. I can only stare as a rock careens straight for my head. 

Chapter Text

Something's wrong. I realise now that I couldn't feel my body properly before, and I can't now either. And after those rocks, my chest feels overly tight. It's hard to catch my breath. It's an odd sensation. Like when I wake from a dream and can't move my body but I'm fully aware of everything. 

"Hello," says a petite woman with a cute face, wide eyes and ice-blonde hair.

I let out a short shout of shock, then start to laugh. It comes out as more of a wheeze. She has to be the flier. No one else would be mad enough to be down here. "You scared the shit out of me. What's your name?" Gods. Even talking feels like I'm running up hill. 

"Luella," she whispers. "I climbed up to get to you." 

"I'm Fenryn or Ryn. Are you good at climbing, then?" If she is, we should be able to get out of here quickly. There are more footholds on this wall than the gauntlet, and I'm excited to climb once I get over this sluggishness. 

"Fair, but not for this," she says. "I'm already tired and I know I fell a while."  

"Okay. Right. I'll get up then."

"I'm sorry," Luella whimpers beside me. 

I purse my lips and try to raise my head, but I can't. What the fuck? "For?" I force out as fear grips me. Why can't I move my head?

"Your legs aren't responding to my pinches."  

Shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. FUCK.

"Ah, okay." That's about all I manage to get out.

Given the gravity of the situation, I have to try and keep calm, but I don't know if I'll be able to. I don't know what we're going to be able to do about this if I can't move my legs. Or my arms. Fuck. I can't turn my head either. 

"Tân? I can't move. Ideas?" 

"Your back is broken. You are too low down. I cannot reach you as I cannot fit." I can feel that she's nearby, but I don't know how near. Or where. I can also hear the emotion clogging her throat. 

"Why aren't I healing?" 

"Your back must be realigned to mend properly. You know this. Cuir and his rider are working on a plan."

Of course. My mind is a little sluggish, but I remember now. All those times I fell before, I needed Tân to pick me up before my body healed. That's why the pain came after. 

Which means it's not something I can just wait out. I won't be climbing out of here. And I can't get the flier out either. Not unless we do something. 

"Right. Luella? Can you get my pack off?" 

She appears in my sightline, and I see the tear tracks gleaming against her cheeks. At least it's still light down here thanks to the blanket of white mist. If it was dark and the mist was dark, I think this would be a lot more terrifying. Then again, I can only see up. Who knows what climbing up to me, and sitting beside me is like for her.

"I can try." She grimaces. "But you're pretty big."

"Whoa! I saved your life and you're taking shots now?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

If I can get her to trust me and laugh with me, it might make this easier. As it is, there's a voice at the back of my mind wondering if someone like Luella who climbed up to me and tried to see if my legs still worked would also be the type to roll me off the cliff and climb up herself. 

Her bottom lip wobbles. "I'm sorry." 

Right, don't joke. She won't be able to take it. Got it.

Luckily, Luella doesn't take much convincing to enact the start of my plan. She tries to hide her sniffling, but even from here I can see her wiping her tears. She narrates what she's doing as she slides my dagger from the sheath at my thigh and cuts the shoulder and waist straps of my pack.

I have a brainwave. "Wait! If something happens, I need you to start shouting for Cohen, okay?"

"Cohen?" she asks, with a lilt that tells me she thinks I'm more than a bit mad.

"Yeah. He's my friend. He has great hearing. Like a dragon or a gryphon, but there's a chance he can't hear us down here." 

Luella nods. "I can do that." 

I have this strong feeling this will work. If we can get my pack off, my body will be straight on the floor rather than tented, and that might realign things.

Only, when she starts to tug my pack out from under me, something jolts, my lungs contract, and I stop being able to breathe.

She starts cursing and doing something, and she  rocks me, then everything goes black. 

"What the fuck were you thinking, baby?" Bodhi's voice is like music to my ears when I wake.  

Because also, I woke up! Silver linings and all that. 

My eyes fly open. Bodhi is above me, leaning over. His serious gaze is fixed on my face. Thank the gods he's here.

"I thought you weren't going to call me that again," I wheeze.  

Bodhi purses his lips and leans his forehead against mine. "I said I couldn't be who I needed to be to deserve you, not if the war needs me too. I said nothing about not saving your arse, or calling you baby." When he pulls back, his grin is so cheeky, it makes me smile. It's still light, but seems to be getting darker, and when I look past his head, he quickly summons a mage light and starts peering into my eyes. 

"How did you get down here?" I can't see past his head now, but like Luella said, we fell a long way. And Bodhi isn't what I would call a climber in that I think he'd be okay, but not like me on the gauntlet.

Bodhi shrugs. "You're not the only one who can climb." 

I raise a brow.

"Fine. Cuir lowered me on a rope. The same rope that's going to get you out of here." He lowers his face to my ear and whispers, "Liam's okay, but he was caught in a trap."

"What?"

"Just a couple of arrows." He runs his thumb over my jaw and chuckles. "Nothing major. It was when Luella fell. But then the wyverns attacked. Cuir could only help get me down here after." 

"I understand," I gasp. "Is she out?" 

"No, not yet."

"Get her out first." I try to move my head but can't, so have to settle for just rolling my eyes around in the hope I point towards Luella at some point. "Luella? You okay?" 

Luella sits forwards and leans over me. Her face is about as pale as her long white braid. She's shaking from what I think is a combination of the cold and absolute fear. I'm not going to be responsible for her second 'death' in one day. 

"You go first, okay? I'm guessing there's not much space down here and Bodhi's going to need all of it to get me out."

"He's lying over you," she whispers. 

"That's okay. His favourite places to be are above or behind me." 

Again, no one laughs, and I swear to the gods, I can't be the only one who found that funny. "You know, you both look really unhappy, but an ounce of a chuckle would brighten my day." 

Bodhi sighs. "It's already the plan to get her out first, baby. Cibbelair, her gryphon, is already loaded onto a wagon." He looks up at Luella. "After you fell he took a nasty claw to the face from a wyvern. Brennan's mending him now but it's taking a while. He'll be alright, just needs some rest. Take the rope now, and tell Brennan what we discussed." 

Luella bursts into tears and grabs the rope from Bodhi. Standing over me, she ties it in expert movements around her waist and flank. 

"My friend Imogen's waiting for you at the top. She's got pink hair so kind of hard to miss. She'll lead you to Cibbelair and your drift," Bodhi says. 

Luella's face lights up and she wipes her face. "Thank you." Three tugs on the rope and she disappears up into the mist. 

"Imogen?" I breathe. "Shouldn't she be with her squad? With Liam?" 

Bodhi takes Luella's place beside me. He holds my arm above my head, then lets it drop. There's an odd sound, like a snap, but I don't feel any pain. I cough and stick my tongue out at the awful metallic taste on my tongue. I know what it is, I just don't want to acknowledge it.

Bodhi's jaw twitches and his brow lowers and creases more. He returns my arm to my side. At least, I think he does. 

"Imogen can wipe short term memories." Bodhi curses under his breath and shifts. Again, I can't move my head, so I lose sight of him as he does something, but then I can breathe a little easier. "I don't really fancy waking up tomorrow to find out one of those fliers has decided they want your signet." 

I frown. "They can't absorb powers, can they?"

"No, but Cat - Catriona, sorry - is crazy, so I don't trust the rest of her class yet." 

Blinking furiously, I try not to let more than one tear fall as I think of that flier, Sam, who dropped me. "Probably for the best. After... Wait, who's Catriona? And can you come up here? I don't like talking to the mist." 

Bodhi appears at my head again and traces his fingers down my face. I can still feel that at least. As he does so, I see something in his eye that I don't want to indulge. I am getting out of this fucking pass. 

"Bodhi," I whisper, shifting my eyes left and right in lieu of shaking my head. 

He drops his head and presses a kiss to my nose. "Xaden's ex."

My eyebrows raise when he sits back. "Shit. That's why she was glaring at Sorrengail during Brennan's speech? Well, how bad can she be?"

"Pretty bad. Even Liam hates her." 

My chuckle turns into a cough. Bodhi wipes my mouth. "Thanks. Well, as your batshit ex who gets thrown off cliffs, I can't say anything." 

Bodhi hums and sits back against the wall, disappearing from view. "Different situation. If venin weren't trying to kill every last one of us, we wouldn't be on this ridge, we would be near Lewellen on a nice mid-autumn break. You wouldn't be my ex." 

"Really?" I cough again. "Lewellen? I hear the weather's quite bad there in the autumn."

"You're thinking of the village by the Luceras coastline. Lewellen the city is stunning and in Tyrrendor. It's a nice holiday spot, especially for batshit hot women who enjoy saving other people to their own detriment." His tone is clipped. 

"Are you crying?"

Bodhi sniffs. "Gods, Ryn, I'm not fucking heartless. I thought you died and now you're..." He sucks a breath. "And you're not reacting to any of my touches."

This feels so deep that it makes me want to jump off the cliff to avoid the conversation. But I can't, so I have to confront the ex in the room. "I felt you kissing my nose even though we agreed we were over."

"That doesn't count." He sniffs loudly. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"Good," I laugh. "Because I'm the one with the broken back. Would be a bit of an arsehole if you made this all about you," I joke.

Bodhi doesn't laugh. "Fuck. Fuck, you're right. I'm sorry," he says instead. "Fuck!"  

Shit. He's acting just like Luella. Which means he thinks I'm not going to make it off this ridge, doesn't it?

"Tân? How much longer? Starting to get worried down here."

Tân whines and chuffs. I can feel her restlessness. "I am worried up here. Cuir is not answering all of my questions, they have sent for Chradh, and the flier has not yet reached us." She snaps her teeth and growls. "Despite your condition, Cuir is bringing her up slowly due to the altitude." 

Okay. Right. Bodhi can't move me until she gets up there. And he doesn't seem to want to move me on his own either. Maybe he's stalling to give Brennan time to get down here. "Keep talking about Catriona," I tell him. "Give me all the gossip." 

Bodhi sighs. "Fine. But I'm holding your hand."

"That's okay," I say in as nice a tone as I can muster. "Don't judge me, though. I usually have a firmer handshake."

Finally, Bodhi huffs a laugh.

"I did it! He laughed!"

Bodhi laughs again. "Xaden broke off their arranged marriage and she still harbours feelings for him." 

My mouth falls open. "Holy shit! See this is the kind of thing you should have been telling me to tide me over before you told me about the weapons!" 

"Huh. I'll remember that for when I meet someone with a time travel signet. Now, I have to work out how to move you... or do I need to get Brennan off gryphon mending duty right the fuck now and down this fucking cliff?" He sounds like he's not just talking to me, but I can't be sure. 

"Don't worry. Without you being here I probably wouldn't have made it. But with you here, I can do this." 

"I'm rubbing your arm. Is that okay, Ryn?" 

Closing my eyes, I smile. Bodhi has no idea he was the first person to call me by my real name. "Yeah, fine. You alright?" 

"I'm trying to act like you jumped down to save Luella so I don't go back up there to wait for that flier to wake up," he growls. 

"It's not your place to do that," I say. "Tân? Tell Cuir what to do to adjust my back? Then Bodhi can start things off while we wait here." 

"Of course, little one. It will require the Section Lead to get closer to you."

"That's okay. I can resist." I really can. I think there'll always be a part of me which wants to run my hands through his curls, or hug him tight, but resisting is like the pain of healing my body - it fucking hurts, but it's what I need to do to get better. 

And, Sloane says it'll get easier with each day. She said I'm only allowed to pine for half the time I was with Bodhi. Which, as of now, is pretty much at an end. 

"I'm not worried about you."

"Bodhi can resist too." I know he can, because he said he wouldn't hurt me again. 

"What's wrong?" Bodhi appears in my sightline again. 

"Tân's worried you won't be able to handle yourself around me."

He chuckles. "I'm already struggling. I really, really want to hold you. But I've also seen what happens to you when you're mine, so I promise I'll keep my hands to myself as much as possible."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah," he says, too slow for my liking. "I just want you to know I have some serious regrets, baby, none of which are your fault or concern. And I'm sorry. For it all. Not for us. But for hiding things and-"

"Stop acting like I'm going to die," I wheeze. "I'm fine."

Bodhi sucks in a breath and his exhale moves the mist above me. "Okay, Cuir says this won't hurt at first, and then definitely will." 

"Can you shove your belt in my mouth?" I ask, taking as deep a breath as I can. 

He leans over me. His brown eyes meet mine and he raises a brow. "Ryn. I just said I wasn't going to touch you like that. Gods. Stop propositioning me. I'm just a man."

My laughter rings out, echoing through the pass. 

The leather strap goes between my teeth and I start spitting it out immediately.

"Fuck. You alright, baby? Did I hurt you?" 

"Bodhi?" I ask, letting a tear fall. I might be strong but no one's strong enough to not be affected by what's coming for me. "It's going to take a while, okay?"

Malek's river may have stopped calling me, but I remember now, with the taste of leather on my tongue, that it's going to take me a fucking long time to heal. I'll definitely need Brennan's assistance. And I'm extremely worried that all those injuries I took on from Luella haven't been healed, and are waiting for me. 

"And it's going to fucking suck," I add for full disclosure. There's no way I won't be screaming once my back's fixed.

"Shit." Bodhi lowers his gaze, and his jaw twitches. "Fuck, baby. It was bad after Basgiath. I said I wouldn't put you through that again."

"Can I recommend closing your eyes and putting ear plugs in?" 

He cups my face and shakes his head. "Baby, I love your sense of humour, you know that, but it's not what I need right now. As fucking selfish as that sounds." 

"What do you need?"

"Something I told you I could live without." 

"Then take it. Just this once. Because once we're out of here I'll be strong again, but right now I think I need a kiss as well." 

"Little one." Tân growls and snaps her teeth. "You ended this." 

"Oh, like my mother never made mistakes like this?" I whine, hoping she did. 

"Once."

Thank fuck. "What happened?" 

"She married him."

"I'm not going to marry Bodhi. I'm not. But the reality is, I'm halfway down a cliffside, my back's fucked, my body's broken, and there's not much I can do about any of that." 

Tân steps back in our bond and I blink up at Bodhi, who huffs a laugh. "Cuir says Tân's not happy, but I've been given her permission to kiss you once. If I try again up there, she'll kill me herself." 

"It is a stupid idea," I laugh. 

"Absolutely idiotic," he mutters. "We've already drawn a line." 

"We have," I agree seriously. 

"You deserve so much better than me, Ryn." 

"I really, really, really do. Which is why this is a one time offer. So stop stalling. Kiss me, then crack my back and make me scream until I pass out." 

Bodhi leans over me but laughs so much I would say his lips against mine don't even count as a kiss. 

Chapter Text

"Fenryn?" Brennan's eyes are wide when I walk (limp) into Battle Brief.

It's been three days since Bodhi strapped me to a flat plank and got me lifted off that ledge, both of us knowing his attempt at fixing my back hadn't worked. 

Three days since Bodhi and another marked one I don't know the name of carried me on the plank out of the pass and ran me to a wagon.

Three days since I heard the chatter of over two hundred people cease. 

Three days since I watched the sky turn dark, as Tân walked beside the wagon and checked on me every two minutes. 

Three days of Brennan and the only other Mender cadet here monitoring me and mending me slowly so I don't get overwhelmed by the pain. 

It's been three hours since my body decided I'd had enough and let me channel from Tân.

I mended most of the worst injuries myself, leaving me with a believable amount left - I have facial bruising, one arm in a sling, wrapped ribs, and a crutch and wrapped leg. But I'm alive and I'm okay. 

And I'm ready to see my friends again. 

I'm really fucking ready.

So yeah, I'm in Battle Brief. 

"Professor?"

Wincing, I slide into my seat beside Cohen. I fist bump him, then squeeze Mirabel's hand. She looks so pale and watery eyed, I think I'll have to have a word with Tomas about it. Brisa stands on her chair and leans over to give me a kiss of the cheek, and Tomas runs to my side and wraps an arm around me, holding me tight. 

After he's checked I'm okay, he reluctantly takes his place again. 

"Okay, okay, I'm not Jack Barlowe," I say, settling into my seat, "you can go back to your regularly scheduled briefing." 

"You were only a quarter mended when we left you this morning," says Rattlin, the First Wing third year who was helping Brennan to mend me. 

Shit. Excuses. Er... "Yeah, well, I've worked hard at learning how to mend myself. I can tell where I'm going wrong," I lie. "I also have a lot of practice at having to finish myself off since I'm attracted to men." 

"Fenryn!" Cohen roars, though he's laughing with most other people, so I don't know what the problem is.

"What?" 

"We are trying to make a good impression!" He winks and covers his mouth with his hand. Ah. He wants to go private. 

"I'm not," I whisper, trying hard not to move my lips. 

"Neither am I." There's a serious tone in his voice that's not usually there. "Not really. But we had a talking to about being good to each other. That's the whole reason we're here." 

"And it came after one of them shoved me off a cliff?" 

Cohen drops his hand, his smile present and accounted for. His eyes are cold as ice. "It was rather unfortunate timing." 

Devera continues the briefing with a reminder; "We are here to learn with and from each other. From next week, lessons will include runes, and your classes and squads will be integrated." 

"What?" I breathe. I lower my voice to a whisper. "Don't say the squads will be with the same drifts as the ones we walked here with." 

Devera says that exact thing; "The same squad and drift formations you were in when you crossed the pass." 

"No." For a moment, I think it's my voice which cuts through the chatter and draws Devera and everyone else's eye, but they're not looking at me.

I turn my head and see Tomas standing. "Squad Lead, Tomas Thaiden, Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing. We'll take another drift." 

"I'm sorry, the decision is final," Devera says.

Red seeps up Tomas's neck. His fist curls at his side. "A flier from the drift we were with attempted to murder one of my Squad. It's a miracle she's alive, let alone mended as she is."

I'm so proud of Tomas and the way his voice doesn't waver. I can't even trust mine right now. My heart thumps against my ribs. It almost makes me forget the fact my hands are shaking and I'm sweating.

"The decision" - Devera takes one step forwards - "is final." Her eyebrows twitch together, but she looks at a qualified flier who's standing to her right, a woman with a scar on her face and dark hair, and nods once. "We will work together." 

"Not final, Ryn," Tomas says to me loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'll sort this."

"Thank you," I mouth, still not trusting my voice. 

A flier a few rows down stands and turns. He has short hair now, and the colour's back in his cheeks, but I recognise him immediately. Sam. His brow lowers over his eyes and his forehead creases. "I'm really sorry about what happened."

I blink, and I'm back on that cliffside, his hand gripping my shirt. The whites of his now clear eyes bloodshot. My feet kicking nothing but air. 

I can't breathe. I can't even think of something to say. Shit. Why?

A sharp pain accompanies each of my heartbeats, spearing me in the chest. I try to rub it away but it doesn't work and my eyes fill with tears until my vision blurs. 

Cohen speaks for me. "Nice haircut. Do they give pamper days to people who dangle other people over cliffs, now? Or was this a 'good job' for throwing her off?" 

No one says anything. Not in defence of Sam, and not in support. 

Sam lowers his gaze to the row of seats between us. "I made a mistake. I was scared."

"No." Mirabel stands, joining Tomas.

Cohen leans over and grabs my hand, and Brisa jumps behind and holds my shoulder. 

"A mistake," Mirabel says through clenched teeth, "is slipping and someone falling. A mistake is not dangling one of my best friends over a cliff because someone in Fourth Wing fucked up!"

She shouts the last, and I swear to Dunne I've never seen Mirabel this angry before. This is the woman who I wanted to protect from a gryphon tail. Gods, I love her. 

"We have to work together," Sam says. "If I can just apologise, we can get past this. I... I hope we can."

Ignoring the fucker, I squeeze Cohen's arm and say, "I'll be in the training rooms if you need me." Leaving my bag, I take the stairs as fast as I can go with my crutch.

"Cadet Zynd. Come back here. We need to work together," Brennan calls from below. 

I laugh bitterly and pause for a moment between Second and Third Wing Tail Sections. "You were surprised I was mended already, Professor. Which means I have four days left at least where we can all pretend I'm still on death's door, and I won't have to see or speak to that murderous fuck."

Bodhi grabs my hand when I'm about to leave. "Ryn." 

"I'm going to the training rooms," I tell him, limping out the door. "I'll be there. I'll be safe. Don't follow me." 

The door swings shut.

"Ryn." 

Swinging round on my good foot, I shake my head. "I have to train, Bodhi. On my own."

Bodhi takes a deep breath. The side of his cheek pushes out. "Okay." 

Hours later, I'm punching a hanging bag, using my left arm which is usually my bad one, but it's the one that's strongest right now and it's not in a sling.

The briefing must have ended, as there are cadets all around. My back is to the wall so I can see who's coming at me. Even so, fear is ever present, sending shocks of ice down my spine whenever a flier gets too close.

Sloane approaches slowly, like I'm an animal she's trying to calm. I guess I am - I'm a horse, spooked by every sudden movement and loud noise.

"Lots of people are worried about you," she says when I take a pause, having punched to one hundred.

"Why?" I reset the bag, then stretch out my wrapped leg, which has started to ache and protest under the strain of being bounced on. 

"If you've been here since you left Battle Brief, then you've been training for three hours straight. And you don't look like you're letting up."

"I'm not. I'm not tired yet." Rolling my shoulders back, I start again. "One. Two. Three."

Sloane sighs. "Luella says you're scaring the fliers. She didn't want to tell me, but she definitely owes you one. More than one."

"Good. Maybe they won't throw me off a fucking cliff again. And if they don't want to see me punch a bag, they can move." I direct my glare at a nearby flier, who ducks his head and moves stations.  

"Ryn," Sloane says quietly. "What do you need?" 

"Right now? Or in general?" I return to my punches. 

"In general."

Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the bag and sigh out some of my anger and upset. Building my mental sandstone walls also helps, and soon enough my fear, anger and upset halves as Tân's emotions fade away. 

"Let someone kill him for you," Tân growls. Gods, her anger knows no bounds today. "Twice I felt our bond slacken into death. My anger will know no bounds towards that flier ever." 

"I don't know," I say, "but I don't want to have to see Sam's face ever again. But I don't want him chucked out because he probably has a family, and I don't want him killed for the same reason, and if he doesn't have a family then it sucks and I know how it feels, so I don't know where that leaves me."

"Complicated and wholly too fair." Sloane takes my hand and starts undoing the wrapping over my knuckles. "Well, Bodhi's blocking the flier from being anywhere near you and I'm pretty sure he's currently trying to switch you to Fourth Wing, even though we're fully stocked. And Liam's watching the door to make sure he doesn't get in here. So, what do you need right now?"

"I knew I liked her." Tân settles into the back of my mind. "Always here, watching." 

"Well that's not creepy." 

"I will be a lot of things to keep you safe, little one. Especially now I don't have to hide what I know, and our true connection." 

I blink and look at the door. Sure enough, I can see Liam's relic covered arm and a foot propped against the wall outside. "Well, Sloane, I cannot talk to you about what I need right now." 

"Why not?"

"Because I have no filter when I've just mended." I lick my lips and stare at Liam's fucking arm. Gods, it looks so strong, and with my anger halved, my lust is back to being overwhelming. 

"Just tell me what you need," Sloane says.  

"I need to find someone willing, who I can lock in my bedroom and have sex with for hours, so I don't go to see Bodhi tonight." Scrunching my nose, I punch the bag with my bare fist and pout. "But Tân said I'm not allowed to do that for a few reasons. One, it could count as kidnapping so they couldn't truly consent to fucking my brains out. Two, I was and am very firm about not wanting to make mistakes, and three, I have to train so if someone tries to shove me over a cliff again, I can fight them.

"And I can't go to see Bodhi because Tân says number two counts in regards to him as well and I used up all of her patience with my stupidity when I kissed him when we both thought I was dying. And she says I can't have sex with your brother because same thing except without the kiss." 

Silence meets my words. I look up to find Sloane just standing there, staring at me with her mouth open and her eyes bugging out of her head. 

"I can't help with most of that," she says slowly. 

"Didn't think so." 

My gaze latches on to the thing that really told me I was going to be fighting the horn this mending cycle - Graycastle. 

He's still wearing his vest, of course - I don't think there's a codex rule he's bent since being here or at Basgiath - but his arms... And he's currently doing some kind of workout where he does pushups as he moves into a handstand, and once in the handstand, he does one handed pushups.

Biting my fist, I swallow again and my throat makes a proper gulp noise. 

Graycastle drops his feet and stands. The moment I see his face and that mouth that usually smirks,  I wrinkle my nose and turn away. If you can find the guy you dislike greatly attractive, it's really bad.

Sloane bites her lips together and I know she saw what I was looking at.

"It's not just him," I complain, punching the bag again. "Liam's arm... Earlier a third year drank some water and I almost jumped him... At one point, I let Tân talk me into ranking the dragons based on who I would let ruin my mental health if they were human." 

Sloane snorts and I groan. 

"Who won?" 

I curl my lip. "Séo, Mirabel's dragon. He's very encouraging." 

Sloane outright laughs. 

Cohen's voice sounds near my ear. "Oi! Lunch is almost being served." 

I gasp and grin. "And food. I need food!" I hobble to the door and thanks to Cohen's warning, I manage to get to the front of the queue before the food is served.

Throwing my arms out, I stop the person behind me from moving. "I need three minutes, and no complaints." They open their mouth and I waggle my finger. "No complaints!" 

Spinning, I offer the server a wide smile. She chuckles and shakes her head as she takes out four plates. This is the same server who was present after I mended Deigh. Only, I want something different this time. 

"I want all the biscuits," I say, pointing to the serving platter piled high with biscuits - our dessert. "No, no, I mean all the biscuits." 

The first people in the queue start to argue. 

"Hey!" I say, holding up my hand to them. "There's not much I can do right now, but I'm a Mender. So, Aisereigh told me to check the biscuits because he thinks they've been poisoned." 

The dining attendant gasps and hands me the platter. Gods, I'm so glad people can't tell when I'm lying. It's hard to hold the gigantic platter at the same time as working my crutch, so I'm grateful when Liam runs over and helps me. 

"What's up with this?" he asks. 

"I've got to check for poison," I say simply. I bite my lip and he raises a brow like he knows what's going on with me. 

"Then lets get you a table before you do something you regret." 

"Like what?" 

He sends me that lopsided grin of his. "Me." 

This makes me laugh and I nod. He's right. In approximately six hours the lust will leave me, and I'll regret whatever I do now. Apart from eating this entire tray of biscuits. Surely I can't regret that. 

Chapter Text

The biscuits were a bad idea. Or, training for three hours was. Or running on a broken leg was. Whatever it was, I retire to my room in so much pain, I decide to mend myself completely. I can just wrap my arm and leg when I need to go back out there.

But, I shouldn't go back out. Not right now. I'm too lust-filled. I need to take a nap. It's less dangerous than being outside my room.

A voice in the hall outside draws me to my door, as my heart beats in my throat. It could be a flier, but surely they wouldn't be on this floor - with the family rooms... I can't hear what the person's saying, I just hear a deep voice and... it reminds me of when I was on the mat during my fight with Halfsson, when I came to and heard someone arguing with Varrish. 

I pull open my door to find the last person who should be there. 

Bodhi. 

He drops his hands and stares at me. “Hey baby.”

Fuck. Holy fuck. The throbbing ache between my legs intensifies as I drag my eyes down his body and back up. He's in his sleepwear, which means he's topless and has on a pair of slouchy black shorts. I have to fight to hide my drooling. 

"Little one!" Tân roars. "Get back inside that room now."

"Just a minute," I reply distractedly, swallowing when Bodhi crosses his arms. Biceps! Nugh! 

"Inside. Now." 

Bouncing on my toes, I whine, "Tân," but decide I really should listen to Tân on this one, or she might actually eat me this time. Or Bodhi. I mean... My eyes travel down to his abs again. I could eat him first...

"Inside!" Tân's roar is accompanied by a literal roar that's loud enough to be heard through my open balcony window.

My eyes widen. She's definitely not playing around this time. “You can't be here.” I shut the door in his face. 

"Step away, little one. He is not good for you." 

"It's okay. He'll leave." After counting to one hundred, I open the door again. Pouting, I retrace his abs with my eyes. “You really, really need to leave. Tân is going to kill me." 

Tân's unimpressed sigh fills my ears. With fumbling mind-hands, I stack the sandstone walls to keep her out. At least this way she won't hear or see me making a terrible decision. 

"That is not how it works," Tân grumbles. "We are too closely connected. I will-" 

Gone. Good. Okay.

Catching my eye, Bodhi smiles. “I know I should leave, I just... I just needed to see your face.” 

What? The lust shifts, overrun by my annoyance. How can he say that to me? After how he left things? “And you need to stop saying things like that. Or do you not remember what you said to me? You didn't even fight for me, Bodhi. You just said, 'I'm giving up,' like I didn't mean anything to you.”

“I remember every word I said in that corridor.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “I spent six hours... More, even… working on what I was going to say. How to end things in a way that would make you angry enough at me to move on, but not so angry you wouldn't speak to me ever again like you were threatening. So yeah, I remember what I said, Ryn. I also remember the way you looked at me, and the way the sun shone in your hair, showing off that red tinge." 

I ignore his flattery. It's hard, but I do. “So you lied.”

“No." He ducks his head and looks through his lashes at me. Gods, he's so tall. "I promised. And you know me, I try to keep my promises."

"Why are you here then? If you haven't come to break your promise?" I want to ask why he's wearing the men's equivalent of basically nothing, because if he's not here for sex he should really change. But I don't. Because he might actually go and change. 

"I can't move you to Fourth Wing. They won't allow it. I also can't stop you from being in the same squad as that... how did you put it? Murderous fuck? I also can't kill or beat him. I've been expressly told I'm not allowed to.” 

“Which means?” 

“If he's in your squad, he can't hurt you again. It's against the rules. Brennan thinks it'll protect you."

"It won't."

"You think I didn't argue that, baby? I talked to Xaden and he's letting you stay in this room. He's overruled Brennan, who was going to have you moved to share with one of your Squad.” 

My hand flies to my sternum as I gasp a breath. That would have meant someone would have had to share with a flier. “Thank you," I whimper.

Bodhi searches my gaze. “Ryn," he says finally, "I need you to close the door and not open it again."

"You could walk away."

"I can't. I can't sleep. Not well, at least. Not since" - I think he's going to say not since I was pushed off a cliff, but he doesn't. - "you healed Liam and Violet. Ryn. That was awful. It was the worst thing I've seen. I couldn't handle being powerless while you went through that. So I tried to help. And I will never forget the look on your face when…" He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. For the first time, I notice the deep bags under his eyes. "I just can't sleep. So I just need you to close the door and I'm just going to stand here, okay?” 

My arms ache to hold him. “Or you could come in. Just for a little bit." 

“I can't. Because I am addicted to you, Ryn, and I don't want to leave you again. I mean it. I won't be able to tear myself away if I go in there. And until I smell your conditioner on another person, I'm going to keep thinking that your door is unlocked and one day you might let me in again. So I need you to slam the door in my face so you can move on.” 

“What if I don't want to?” 

Bodhi sighs. It's like he expected me to put up a fight, even though he has no right to think I would still want him. Or maybe he expected to have to convince himself...

“Then you'll be choosing something that's bad for you," he says. "Someone who's bad for you.” 

“Are you bad for me?”

“Ryn." He lets out a groaning chuckle. "Do you need a reminder of everything that went wrong? Everything I did wrong?”

“Probably," I say with a nod. "Why don't you come in and I'll just hold you while you sleep and in the morning you can tell me all the reasons why you should leave.” 

“I just told you that if I walk in, I won't be able to get leave again.” 

I widen my eyes dramatically. “You'll be trapped!? What kind of kidnapping wards are on this door?”

Bodhi chuckles and shakes his head. “Baby. The instant this is all over, when I can just be a rider, I will find you. And if you open your door, I will come in and never leave. But right now, there is a chance I could hurt you, and I never want to hurt you again. Never, Ryn."

Pursing my lips, I try to blink away the tears that well in my eyes. Why can't he just stay now? "You're saying I'm not worth it?"

"Fuck no, Ryn. You are. But you saw what happened at Basgiath."

"We're not at Basgiath anymore," I bite out. 

"But the danger is even worse."

“What if I'm with someone else by the time the this is over, huh? What if I don't want to wait?”

“Then I've got to hope they'll be everything you need and everything you deserve. I'm not like my cousin. I'm not leading the revolution. I don't have the same resources he does. All I can do is fight to save this world, like I promised. I'll try and save it for you. So you can be happy.” 

I nod, but I don't want to. I snarl and cross my arms. “I can't stop pretending like my chest doesn't tighten every time I see you.” 

Bodhi smiles. “Your smile lights up my entire chest, baby.” 

I melt into the door frame. “I miss your arms," I whisper. 

“I miss your legs," he replies with that cheeky grin. 

I chuckle and cover my mouth as I start to cry. “I love the way I am when I'm with you. I don't want to lose that.”

“You won't. You won't lose that side of you, Ryn. The issue is, we both love the way we are when it's just us. But it can't be just us right now, and I can't stand what I end up doing to you. The choices I have to make... I want to put you first but I can't, not all the time." He looks down the hall. "Fuck, Ryn. I fucking wish it could be just us all the time. I've wished it for over a year. I dreamt of you for months... I spoiled myself these past weeks with you, and broke my own heart because I realised I like what I see when I'm reflected in your eyes. But this is war and I have to be the worst me to survive. I have to make shit decisions.” 

We stand in silence until his brown eyes meet mine and I have to break the suffocating tension. I mouth, “I miss your cock.” 

Bodhi squeezes his eyes shut, purses his lips, scrunches his nose, and looks at the ceiling. "See, this is why you need to close your door. That humour of yours is only going to get me into trouble."  

I seize my opportunity. “You're sure you can't come in? Just for tonight?"

"I'm bad for you." 

"I have this thing about doing bad things." 

Bodhi wipes his hands down his face. “I'm sure. I want nothing more than to wake in your arms, with my ear pressed to your chest so I can hear your heart race and know you're alive and that you're mine.” He lowers his chin. “Which is why I warded your door before you opened it. Only you can let people in. Just like Basgiath.”

I try to reach out to touch him, but he steps back, staring at my hand. His brows draw together.

“Bodhi." 

"Ryn."

"I feel safe when I'm with you, Bodhi.” 

Bodhi closes his eyes and sighs. “Not all the time. I hurt you too much to come back from it. Close the door, baby.” 

“No.” 

“You're so fucking stubborn.” 

I want to make him pay for this. And I want him to stop thinking about me injured and scared. I don't want him to think about me like that. Don't want him to remember me like that. “What about sound?" I ask. "For the ward?”

Bodhi blinks and his jaw works. “You can hear from here, but no one out here can hear anything from inside your room.” 

"Thank you."

He nods, and I dart from the room and press my lips to his cheek. My arms wrap about his shoulders and I hold him for a minute. The same length as I hold Tân when she needs me. Stepping back into my doorway, I smile. “Do you think you'll be able to think about that when you sleep now, instead of me broken on that ledge?” 

“Yeah, Ryn. I think I will.”

I smile sadly and start closing the door over. "I'm going to close my door now, and I want you to walk away." 

He shakes his head. "I can't."

"If I can close this door, you can walk away," I say firmly. 

I do, and I listen to his footsteps retreat halfway down the hall, then I slide down to the floor. Half an hour later, he returns and slides down the wall outside. I hear his sigh, and fall asleep with the door between us.