Page 103 of Dream Reaper

He leaned his head back and stared up at the lightening sky. A hint of pink now warmed the gray above them, the treetops stark against the light. They were running out of time. They needed to take flight as soon as possible.

We can’t leave Meat Pasty alone any longer than necessary.

“I know.” Jerrid inhaled a deep, ragged breath.

It was time to rip off the bandages and do this thing. They couldn’t change the past, the things they’d done and said to one another, the battles they’d fought, the hurt…

But they could move forward. And someone had to take the first step.

The void yawned before him, terrifying with possibility. But if Dragon was telling the truth…maybe, just maybe, things would get better. Maybe they could build on this and somehow learn to work together.

He rolled his shoulders, relaxing his body, thinking of himself turning into an oozy puddle. Fluid and calm and malleable. He thought of Ava, standing with her arms around her thin waist, her eyes dark and haunted as she waited for him to come back.

The tension seeped back into his muscles.

For crying out loud. Dragon yanked at his thoughts, snarling. I’ll do it. Like I always do.

“No, I don’t want⁠—”

But Dragon wrenched control from Jerrid’s fingertips. Scales rippled down his arms, hissing and crackling. His bones creaked as they expanded and changed shape, pain sizzling with every mutation.

He ground his teeth together, hating Dragon. Hating himself.

This wasn’t what he wanted, nor was it how he wanted to do it. But why had he thought today would be any different from the hundreds of days that had come before?

This was hopeless.

As the change stole his body from him, shifting his thoughts into the background, into the darkness, he accepted the truth. That he and Dragon would always be on opposite sides of this battle.

They would never become one, he would die from dragon sickness, and this entire quest would end in ruin.

CHAPTER 25

AVA

As the sun sank behind the dark treetops, Ava couldn’t shake the feeling that their chances of survival were slipping away with the sunlight.

The evening shadows fell far too early. Ava and Brynja stood on the edge of the ruins, looking out over the lifeless camp. The bonfires were blazing but untended. Tent flaps drifted in the breeze flooding over the encampment, but nothing else moved or lived down there in the camp.

Everyone was safely hidden in the remnants of the old fortress. But how long would that last?

“Do you think this will work?” Brynja asked bluntly, arms crossed over her chest as she stared into the shadows.

Ava found herself also searching for the first signs of attack from the gathering darkness, her heart beating wildly. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

An ache tugged at her chest, as if she possessed a gaping void instead of a beating heart. She pressed a hand to her sternum and wondered if she would feel like this for the rest of her life.

It had begun the moment Dragon left her.

The aching. The loneliness.

“Everyone’s been told what to do,” Brynja said. “No sleeping. No leaving their rooms. It’s going to be a long night under those conditions, especially for the little ones.”

“It helped Prince Haryk,” Ava agreed in a whisper. “I can only hope that it will help us too. At least buy us some time. We can sleep during the day tomorrow. If we can just keep the little ones awake tonight.”

“I’ve put Roar in charge of that,” Brynja said with a grim smile, a gleam in her eye. “He’ll keep them busy for at least a few hours.”

Ava nodded, smiling in return. “Aye, I think you’re right about that. He’s a character, that one. How his mother survives is beyond me. I would always be in a state of constant panic, wondering what mischief he was getting up to.”