Page 35 of Veiled

“You will make mistakes,” Lorenson continues. “Some will be small. Some will be bigger. Try not to make the kind that ends with a medical report or paperwork for me.”

That earns another uneasy chuckle from the group.

“One more important note before we get started. Dragons don’t care who your parents are or what you think you deserve here. If you approach one with arrogance, it will see through you in a heartbeat, and you will not like how it reacts.”

After a long moment, she steps aside and gestures toward the Bravo riders spread across the field. “Now, break yourselves into groups of four. We’ll start with observation drills. Once you have your group, find a Bravo recruit standing by a dragon. Watch, listen, and do not touch without permission. Remember, none of these dragons are bonded yet, so think of each interaction with them like a speed date. While riders and dragons may feel a slight connection over the months of training together, most of you will fly with different dragons until your track choice is finalized.”

Splitting up, Matt, Sasha, and I are joined by a guy named Oscar. Not wanting to be left wandering the field, we join the closest unaccompanied Bravo rider we see, Jada, and a dragon named Zephyros—a sleek silver-gray creature with eyes the color of lightning before it strikes.

“Keep five paces back unless told otherwise,” Jada instructs, her tone brisk but not unkind. “Zephyros doesn’t like people crowding his tail or feet.”

The dragon flicks that very tail as if to emphasize her point.

“Watch his eyes,” Jada says. “They’ll tell you everything you need to know. A calm dragon blinks slowly. A pissed-off dragon’s eyes are beyond dilated, though you probably won’t live long enough to notice them.

Sasha scribbles frantically beside me, whispering, “Blinking. Pupils. Got it. Don’t die.”

Matt hides a grin. “Solid summary.”

Jada glances at him, one brow raised. “Something funny?”

Matt immediately straightens. “Nope.”

“Good. Keep it that way. Now, Zephyros is going to stretch his wings. Don’t move.”

She gives a slight nod, and he fully extends his wings, the smooth membrane catching the sunlight in a blinding arc. The gust of air that follows nearly knocks me back a step. The power of it is staggering.

When the wings settle, Jada gestures for us to come closer.

We move as one, slow and cautious. Up close, Zephyros’s scales shimmer when the light shifts, catching hints of blue and white like ice on steel.

The heat radiating from him is immediate; it’s like standing beside a furnace.

“Find your comfort limit,” Jada says. “Then take one more step forward.”

Sasha makes it about three paces before muttering, “Nope,” and backing off. Matt lasts longer but winces when the air around his arms ripples with heat. Oscar, ever the perfectionist, stands stone-still, sweat trickling down his temple, but refusing to move.

I take slow, measured steps forward, counting my breaths. The air vibrates, heavy with energy. My skin tingles—not from pain, but from something electric humming beneath it.

“If you look closely, you’ll see that dragon scales are alive. A dragon’s scales regulate heat and magic. When scales dull, they’re tired or conserving energy. When they spark, it’s a warning.

“Any questions so far?”

“How do you talk with him without being bonded? I thought there was only a mental connection established after fully bonding,” Sasha asks.

“In order to have a constant bridge of communication, you do need to be bonded. But dragons can open that bridge before bonding using their magic for short periods of time, when they want to. Most of them find it more annoying waiting for us to figure out what they want than merely opening the bridge and telling us.”

“You said most, why do some not want to open the bridge if it makes life easier?” I follow up.

“Honestly, because some of them just think of us as pests wasting their time unless we can make it through training.

“Now, who wants to touch a dragon?” Jada asks.

“I’ll go,” Oscar says, trying for confidence but sounding a little too breathless.

Jada nods, “Good. Palm open, fingers together. Slow movements only.”

He does as told, extending his hand toward Zephyros’s shoulder. The dragon’s head swivels slightly, nostrils flaring as he leans in to scent him. For a tense heartbeat, the entire field feels silent. Then Zephyros exhales softly through his nose, brushing Oscar’s arm with warm air.