Page 60 of Ignite the Infernos

“There it is,” I exclaim, like some game show host who’s congratulating a winner. I lean against the wall, mirroring Aeson’s crossed arms, and ask, “So, what do we do?”

The question is casual and so is my mien, but inside I’m seeing red. Aeson warned me. It was clear the dukes were going to be a problem, but disrespecting my bond like this proves that nothing is sacred to these bastards.

“We’re working on a plan,” Ogdan offers, his gray eyes determined. His hair is still styled in battle braids, and I tell myself not to take it personally. He and the rest of his Wing still aren’t talking to me, but I haven’t been here even a full day yet.

“What if we just completed the bond?” I ask offhandedly.

Aeson freezes where he stands, and an uncomfortable silence fills the room.

Ouch.

I try to shrug it off.

“I’m just saying, they want to mess with our bond; what if they can’t? All that’s left is for us to bite each other and let our dragons decide if they’re into it, right?”

Aeson’s anger shifts to something more visceral, and I fight back a shiver as his face hardens and his eyes go flat.

“There’s a lot more left for us to do,” he argues. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve been ordered not to complete the bond until after this upcoming engagement.”

Shock steals my words. I stare at Aeson, flabbergasted. Fury hastily replaces my shock, while I flip through the implications like they’re a deck of cards. “Can they fucking do that?” I demand.

“They can.” Aeson nods, equally as furious, but I can’t tell if it’s on his behalf or mine.

Healer Ramirez comes striding back into the room, and her presence effectively kills any further discussion about the dukes and their heirs.

“Give me a second to pull everything up, and then we’ll go over what I found,” Ramirez explains, and I give her a stiff nod and re-anchor myself by the window.

Fuck.

What am I going to do?

They’re tying Aeson’s hands, but what about mine?

How can I fight them without his help?

I search for the connection that ties me to Aeson. It’s been locked in a vault and cemented over since I was brought here, but maybe it’s time to figure out how to make it work for us—or, better yet, use it against the dukes.

I’m distracted from my plotting when the seven Wing members milling about all rise from their seats or push off from wherever they were leaning and, one by one, leave the room. It’s an illusion of privacy—since I have no doubt that Aeson will fill them in on whatever the Healer’s about to disclose—but as long as I don’t have to deal with anyone else’s emotions right now, I don’t really care.

I try to read Ramirez’s face as she transfers my scans to a large holoscreen, but her face and body language give nothing away. Aeson gestures for me to come sit with him, but I suddenly feel rooted to this spot by the window.

I can’t move, because as long as I stand right here, there’s a chance that whatever is wrong with me is fixable. I’m not walking in a direction where a dragon mark is all I’ll ever have. I’m not moving toward a fate that’ll feel akin to torture. Right here, right now, I’m only half-broken, and I’ll stand here for the rest of my life if it keeps me from a worse fate.

My body is tense and leaden, my stomach a kaleidoscope of dread, and I force myself to look away from the furrowed brow of the Healer as she studies the threads of coded data scrolling across the holoscreen’s display. I turn my head and concentrate on the dragons outside. I spot a sapphire-blue dragon still spiraling and curling around the currents, and I can’t decide if its presence is a glimmer of hope or merely a dream that will forever be out of reach.

Aeson is suddenly there, his large frame leaning on the opposite side of the arch, his gaze steady and set on me. I don’t acknowledge him; I can’t. All I can focus on is whether the next few minutes are going to destroy the Syphons or simply become another obstacle we have to overcome.

“Okay,” the Healer chirps, drawing my attention back to her.

I rub my thumb across my forearm in search of my scars, and relief swarms me when I find them. I didn’t wear my charm today, knowing the Healer would need me to take it off for her exam. My clothes hide the damage covering my body, so I figured it would be fine. Back and forth, I count the raised tallies on my arm and take in the neon-yellow outline of my body that’s glowing on the large holoscreen next to Healer Ramirez.

When I first walked into this room, I was more worried about the Healer wanting to take blood than I was anything else. Thankfully, she didn’t need to and simply looked me over, documented my scars, tested my reflexes, and scanned me with a device the size of a small curtain rod. It was all very easy and efficient, and I don’t trust it one bit.

Easy flits around like an innocent little fairy, so sweet and disarming. But every time I try to be her friend, a bunch of fucked-up things happen later and I’m convinced it’s a setup. Which is exactly why I’ve been waiting all morning for the other shoe to drop, and it’s time.

“Your scans confirmed a few things I was concerned about when you went over what happened with your affinity and your reveal,” Ramirez explains, pulling me from my thoughts and pointing at two bright red spots that just appeared on the holoscreen. One where my stomach is and the other lighting up my chest.

Heart racing, I press a palm to both places, as though I can feel whatever she’s about to tell me is wrong with them.