Orders to kill the youngling cross-legged on the ground beside me with the hatchling in his lap, dangling bits of bloody meat the dragon’s trying to pluck from the air despite his eyes still being fused shut. Probably why he keeps almost nipping the kid’s finger off.
How could he possibly be a threat to The Flourish?
A child?
I tuck my freshly washed hair behind my ear and lean farther forward over the bucket of sudsy water, scrubbing my jacket with extra gusto.
The only thing I’m delivering Sereme and The Elding is retribution served in the shape of a blade slamming hilt-deep in their hearts. I’ve lost all faith in them, in the cause. I wouldn’t be surprised if The Flourish isperfectlysafe and secure. If this is a thick layer of manipulation. A ruse to—
I don’t know. But I will find out.
“Nope.” I look up to see Pyrok snatch the fine-tipped prongs. Wedging into a sitting position, he pushes muddy hair back from his eyes, then points the bloody tool at his brother. “Go away, you fumbling fuck. I’ll do it myself.”
Roan tips his head, like he’s looking for patience in the ceiling’s swirled grain. “I almost had it.”
Snorting, Pyrok bites down on the cork of his flask, rips it out, and spits it aside. “The only thing you almost had was my fist in your face.” He glugs back what I can only assume is half the flask’s contents. He hisses through his teeth, then plants his chin to his chest and digs through the wound.
Roan tosses his hands. “I’ll get my tinctures ready for you to etch yourself shut.”
Pyrok glares at his brother now moving down the stairs. Muttering to himself, he gets back to work as I dunk my jacket in the water. Continue brushing the gathered grime from between Rygun’s tiny claw scales that line the garment, wondering if all siblings act this way.
Not sure why the thought makes something deep in my chest …ache.
The trapdoor lifts.
Kaan moves down the coil of stairs still dressed in his muddy pants that cling to his muscled thighs like a second skin. He’s shirtless from Roan’s intervention with the prongs, and it appears he cleaned most of the grime from his arms and torso with a cloth that was barely sufficient.
Another step down, and his face comes into view—mostly cleaned, though filth is still streaked through his loose hair and beard, his eyes like charcoal when they finally drop into view, underscored by shadows.
Strikingme.
Something drips on the step he’s stalled on, my gaze lowering to a crimson splat. Rises again to the shredded skin across the knuckles of his right hand.
He wipes them on his pants and says, “We need to talk.”
Pyrok, Roan, and Ahvi all look at me as an awkward tension stiffens the atmosphere.
With a nod, I dunk my jacket in the bucket, then edge past the table. I move up the stairs behind Kaan, my gaze on the constellation of moons inked across his surging back. On the beautiful art now marred by the five cauterized wounds he received in Bothaim.
He waits for me to pass before he closes the trapdoor, shutting us off from the bottom level.
I break away. Pace back and forth between the windows that offer wide views of the thick mist still smothering the nesting grounds, packing the forest full. Since they’re the only source of light in the room, it makes the space feel dark.
Cluttered.
Or perhaps that’s just me, stuffed with thoughts and messy feelings my seams are about to split.
“Raeve—”
“I’m blood bound,” I blurt, whipping around to stare at Kaan standing by the trapdoor.
A line forms between his brows. He opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, then seems to reconsider, jerking his chin for me to continue.
“The only reason I found Ahvi first was because I received an order tokill him while we were in the village,” I say, and his eyes widen and I lift a hand. “Notmy finest moment, I know, but it’s important to note the order said nothing about him being achild.”
Again, it looks like he’s about to speak. This time, I cut him off.
“My binder, the bitch, has never liked me. Can’t say I like her either, given she has a penchant for torturing me until I come to heel. Since I let the Fíur du Ath assume Rygun ate me after the trial, she’s using the bind to tug on my reins. Not the first time. Won’t be the last.”
