By the time we find the cave that will shelter us, Sifa’s drooping. She and Thyra can do nothing but watch as I start pulling together a quick meal—a soup that will nourish us all—then prepare their beds. Thyra’s too weak to feed herself, so she and I work together to get a meal into her before I carry her to her blankets and tuck her in. She’ll be better after a good night’s sleep.
Sifa’s head is drooping when I return to the fire, but I’m relieved to see she’s finished her soup.
“What you did today,” I start, but before I can finish, her gaze is whipping up to find me. She’s wide awake now.
“What I did today is between us and Thyra,” she hisses, her nostrils flaring as her fingers stretch out and then curl into a fist. “We’ve both learned things about each other that would doom us.” She pauses, her eyes growing wide as she sees my surprise. And regret. Taking a deep breath, and then another, Sifa’s face softens.
“I will keep your secrets, to my grave,” I assure Sifa as I hold her stare, willing her to see my resolve.
“And I’ll keep yours.” Pausing again, she inhales and exhales one more time. “Sorry,” she says after a moment. “I’ve spent a lot of years hiding what I can do. You’ve seen more in our time together than anyone else in this world. I’ve put everything at risk being so exposed.”
“I know. I’ve done the same.” I reach out to take her hand, hoping the contact will help put her fears to rest. Peace washes over me as I feel my mate’s touch, perhaps for the last time. “This thing between us can never be,” I remind her—or myself—my thumb stroking the back of her hand. “We both have our reasons. But know this, my rabbit. I value your life as much as my own. I will never do anything to put you at risk. I swear it.”
“Sweet talker,” Sifa responds with a sad smile. “You know just what to tell a girl.” And then her face grows serious, her eyebrows moving together in the most charming expression ever. “I trust you,” she says at last. “And you can trust me.”
“I know.”
She watches me for a moment, then her chin dips as a sigh escapes. “Thank you, Fhord,” she whispers as she stands. “Sleep well.”
“You too, Sifa.”
The wailing wakes me. We stopped too close to the training grounds, I realize as my stomach clenches. I wonder if there’s any chance Sifa will sleep through this. After everything that happened yesterday, it’s the last thing she needs.
She doesn’t, of course. Within a minute, she emerges from the cave, fully dressed. Her eyes find mine and I can see the purpose in them. She’s going after the dragon.
“You can’t do this, Sifa. Nobody is allowed to interfere with training. Even other riders.”
“I just need to see the dragon. Maybe I can help comfort it, like I did before. I’ll stay hidden.”
I shake my head, standing as she strides in the direction of the screams. “It’s too dangerous. And we’re still hunted. You’ll risk everything.” Reaching out, I wrap my hands around her arms, turning her toward me. “This is part of dragon life. It’s necessary.”
She scoffs. “Necessary? That’s bullshit. Don’t give me the official line just because you ride a dragon. You know it’s wrong.”
“I don’t like it any more than you do. But you can’t change the world. Especially not now. Let’s finish this job, get Thyra back to Bevin. Then if you want to comfort a few dragons, you can come back alone.” My voice is cold, mean, but I can’t let myself care. She has no idea how much danger she’s courting.
“I don’t answer to you, Fhord,” she spits out. Then she pauses, her eyes starting to glisten. Lifting her hands to rest them on my chest she gives me a small smile, full of apology. “I can’t explain why—I don’t even know why, myself—but I know this is something I have to do. This dragon is calling to me. I must answer his call.”
“It’s the same dragon, isn’t it?”
“Yes. And he needs me. I have to go to him.”
“Fine,” I declare, lifting my hands in frustration. She’s so fucking stubborn. It’s a good thing we can’t be together. She’d drive me to an early grave. “But you’re not going alone,” I add, against every bit of my better judgment. “Tell Thyra what we’re doing while I throw some clothes on.”
Within ten minutes, we’re crouched behind a bush, watching the dragon and trainer approach. She was right. It’s the same red beast as before, and he’s every bit as traumatized as the last time we saw him. The trainer’s different—the Nest’s leaders will sometimes change a trainer if a dragon won’t submit to the Dróttning’s demands—but he seems just as cruel as the last.
The most stubborn dragons experience the greatest trauma as the punishments grow more and more extreme. This one looks to be as headstrong as the female by my side. The device holding back his wings is one of the worst I’ve seen. Every rider knows where the dragons’ most vulnerable spots can be found. This … abomination … is designed to carve into every spot on the wings—the dragons’ most sensitive area—shifting and tightening with each step.
I glance at Sifa. Her face has twisted as if she’s experiencing the dragon’s pain. She’s concentrating, all her focus on the beast and his trainer.
When the dragon turns his head, recognition sparks in his eyes. The trainer is striding ahead of him, the chain that binds the dragon’s powers dragging on the ground between them. Arrogant and cruel. He knows the dragon can’t break free and can’t imagine anyone interfering with his work.
Sifa’s going to do just that. I sense the shift in her emotions, the resolve that grows as she makes her decision. I turn to glance at her and my suspicion’s confirmed. Her muscles are tight, eyes alert, and lips set in a thin line. She turns to me and I recognize the apology in her expression.
Shaking my head, I mouth “no”. She doesn’t care. She already decided.
Sifa anticipates my reach, spinning away in the soft grass. Rising to her knees, her hands on her hips, she turns to look at me. “I have to do this,” she whispers. And then she’s by my side, her words low in my ear. “I don’t know why, but I have no choice. I must save him.” She pauses just for a moment, leaning her head back as her gaze finds mine. “They’ve nearly run out of patience with him. He’ll die soon. I can’t let that happen.”
“You must,” I tell her, my lips finding her ear. “This is the way of dragons.” I wrap my hands around her arms again, ready to hold her down if I must.
