She shoved him—hard—and climbed to her feet.
Roam jolted awake with a startled yelp, rolling to the side in a sprawl of limbs and leaves. His wild blue eyes darted around, his pupils dilated like a cat jolted from a nap.
Then he saw her.
A lazy, crooked smile curved his lips. “Spring!” he said, his voice rough with sleep before his eyes widened with excitement. “We’re alive!” he whooped, throwing his arms wide and collapsing back onto the moss. “Yes! I can check that off my near-death bucket list. This cat has nine lives, baby!”
Spring glared down at him, her arms folded tight across her chest. “What is wrong with you?!”
Roam blinked at her, still grinning like an idiot. “Uh… we survived plummeting through a magical wormhole of doom and didn’t end up as a frozen space pop or smeared like bug guts on a skimmer windshield? That feels like a win.”
She rolled her eyes, scanning the dense jungle canopy above. Thick vines twisted around enormous tree trunks that went up higher than she could see from a standing position, each wider than a palace. A single glowing blue leaf drifted past her face—larger than her head.
Everything was… wrong.
“Grow up,” she snapped, irritated that out of everyone in the group, she was stuck with him! “We need to figure out where we are and find the others. Without Phoenix, there’s no way to get home.”
Roam groaned dramatically, flopping back again and draping an arm over his eyes. “Can we please just take five minutes to celebrate not being squished like dragon pancakes before the doom and gloom?”
“I am not being doom and gloom. I’m being responsible.” Her voice tightened. “Something you should try sometime.”
Roam peeled his arm back and arched an eyebrow at her. “Oh, responsible, huh? Right. Because when I think of a calm, responsible person, I totally think of the girl who decorated the training officer’s office with toilet paper last semester because he gave you a B for the obstacle course.”
“I beat everyone to the finish line and never once got tagged! It shouldn’t matter that he didn’t like how I did it!”
“You dug a tunnel! Of course you beat everyone and didn’t get tagged. No one could see you!”
Her cheeks flushed, but she pressed on. “Unlike you, I want to make sure we’re safe. And unlike you, I’m not just playing like we’re kids, because I don’t have the luxury of pretending everything’s a game!”
Roam sat up, the humor draining from his face.
“And unlike you,” he said quietly, “one day I’m going to have to rule a planet. I’d like to enjoy being young and carefree while I can.”
The words hit her like a slap. Her breath hitched, her arms folding tighter around herself like a shield.
He didn’t notice—he never did.
She turned away sharply as the pain knifed through her chest.
Why did it always hurt this much with him?
Why did he always have to make her feel worse?
Her throat tightened. She blinked furiously, but a single tear slipped free. She swiped it away before he could see and lifted her chin. Her voice, cool and distant as starlight, shimmered with the ache she refused to show.
“Fine. Enjoy being a kid while you still can,” she said, not looking at him. “I’m going to make sure we’re safe. Try not to get lost.”
“Spring, wait?—”
But she was already shifting.
A swirl of white light enveloped her as her dragon form emerged—long and sleek, her shimmering scales edged with a soft iridescent pink. Her wings unfurled, translucent and glowing like moon petals in the rising light.
Roam’s mouth pursed in aggravation. “Spring?—!”
With a snap of her wings, she launched into the sky.
She didn’t look back.
