Page 19 of Dragon Heir

“It wasn’t just for you. I wanted to check out the cute older boys,” Sadie says, but I notice Pax watching me with a pained expression.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head and stuffs a huge chunk of sweetbread in his mouth. I try to shake off my irritation and turn my focus back to Sadie. “What do you want to see after lunch?”

For the rest of the day, we show her everything we can think of in and around the academy. I take her to the Scholar building with me, asking Professor Sinetar if I can miss class the next day to spend time with her. But too soon, our three days are up, and she has to return. I can’t help but tear up as Pax and I watch her load onto the caravan. He paid her way to back to Nalo’Lan, and she insisted she was fine going with strangers. She’s so independent, sometimes I swear that she’s my older sister and our parents are just lying.

“I don’t like her riding around by herself like that,” Pax says, but he keeps the smile on his face, waving to Sadie as the carriage bears plod away.

“Yeah, I know. But no one tells Sadie what to do, least of all our parents.”

Their hands-off parenting style worked for me because I was a studious homebody. I’m not sure it’s working so well for Sadie, but then, we did stupid stuff too.

“Remember when we hid in that fruit cart and rode all the way to Ba’Sun?”

“Haven’t eaten a pinesimmon since,” Pax says with a grin.

“And we had to spend the night on that roof,” I say, smiling at the memory.

Pax chuckles, a sound I haven’t heard much since he’s been back from training camp. “Yeah.”

“And let me remind you, that was not with our parents’ blessing.”

“Yeah, but you had me,” he says, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

I keep my eyes fixed on the caravan, which now looks the size of a child’s toy as it moves further and further from us. A strange feeling of sadness sweeps over me, as if I’ll never see my sister again. I resist the urge to run after the last wagon, jump up, and haul Sadie down from it. Warm tears splash on my cheeks, and Pax turns to me.

“Hey! Nessie, hey. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I say as I scrub the tears off my face.

“No, you’re not.” Pax squeezes his arm around me, leading me to the side of the station. Stopping at a windowsill, he grabs me around the hips and hoists me into the ledge. He stands between my legs, and his arms wrap around my waist, warm and secure and so familiar. “Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just a lot,” I mumble. “I didn’t realize how much I missed my family until Sadie showed up.”

His head nuzzles into my stomach, and I comb my hands through his golden hair. This feels good. It feels like home. If Pax hadn’t been so different with me since he arrived in Ricoterra, maybe I wouldn’t feel so homesick now.

“Talk to me, Nessie,” he says into my shirt. “It breaks my heart to see you sad.”

I lean back into the windowpane, knowing it’s dirty and gross, but not really caring in this moment. “I’m going to sound so clingy it’s embarrassing.”

His head comes up, and his sea-green eyes flick between mine. “You never need to be embarrassed with me.”

I run my hand through his hair again, feeling the soft golden strands. “It’s just... You’re all the family I have up here. And I feel like you’re pushing me away. Like you’re intentionally keeping distance between us, when we were never like that before.”

His head falls into my stomach again, and he groans, “Oh, Nessie.”

“I know.”

Pax’s arms around me tighten, and I can feel every inch of his hard body pressing into my thighs and pelvis. “I’m trying so hard, and you’re not making it any easier. Things can’t go back to the way they were—not ever. But no matter what, I’m going to be here for you.”

“What happened this summer, Pax?” I blurt out. “Why did everything change?”

We haven’t gotten much alone time, and though we’ve been living together for a month and a half, we haven’t had a chance to really bare our souls. Every time I start to ask, something happens, or he senses something coming and diverts the conversation.

“Last summer.” He leans back, looking up into my face.

I slide off the windowsill, between Pax and the wall, coming to stand before him, our faces inches apart. “What happened last summer?”