Page 160 of Wings of Destruction

We’d always end with her running a soothing hand down whatever body part of mine hunched up, usually my back, and telling me a story of the start of the world and how we came from Ether.

The space between stars birthed our land and every living creature in it. Which only meant we were all equal and worthy of love, respect. Kindness.

My expression sours as I replace the bottle.

Those days are never coming back.

And if I want half a shot of making a world where people like my mother are safe from the true evils, then I have to talk to Astrid.

My mother’s face flashes through my mind this time instead of Morgan’s. Memories are going to eat me alive if I’m not careful, and any more of the strong drink will send me spiraling. When was the last time I’d eaten?

I close the armoire and sigh irritably. Astrid will be at dinner with everyone else. I have to tell her she’s the leader of the resistance now. Drinking alone is pathetic. It’s hiding.

I have to suck it up, tell her I’m leaving, tell her so many things.

The thought of leaving the room twists my guts into complicated patterns.

Astrid will do a good job of spearheading the rebellion by herself. Half of our ideas spawn from the devious depths of her mind, anyway.

I don’t need Morgan. If she’s content to drown in grief and use her pain as an excuse, then I’ll let her, and swallow the consequences of being wrong.

The first sounds from Mozi in my head are like the click of his talons on stone. My awareness deepens to make room for him in my head, and all of a sudden his energy is stifling. I can’t breathe.

Well, I start, hello to you, too.

You really stepped in it this time.

There’s no fleeing him, no ignoring him. My scowl deepens, and I cross my arms over my chest.

Mozi’s voice is a forgotten spirit looming over my shoulder and whispering in my ear. A trail of heat flickers across my neck and tightens the skin. The image of claws on stone thickens until it’s the only thing I see and I bristle at the flash of flame in my head.

Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What’s at stake? You’ve jeopardized everything with your mouth and your tiny human brain.

I grind my teeth and stride out of the bedroom to find Astrid.

“I really don’t want to hear it,” I mutter out loud.

Attending matters far greater than babysitting, he snaps. Apparently, I can’t take my eyes off of you. Several hours and you’ve… ruined everything we’ve been building. All over what? Wounded pride?

I stop at the end of the hall and stare out the window. My breath leaves fog against the mullioned panes. This particular vantage overlooks an outcropping of stone where any number of unfortunate first years tricked by hazing have stumbled to their death.

Is that what you think this is? I ask. Wounded pride? This is a sentence. A punishment. Harbi is going to boot me out of the academy.

Did you not consider it when you made your deal?

Mozi pauses and I brace my hands against the window’s ledge. My knuckles go white against black stone when his growl skitters along my spine.

Your presence at this academy isn’t just important—it’s the lynchpin holding our entire plan together. Why didn’t you consider it when you spoke to Harbi?

I shake my head. I considered other matters to be of more importance. Clearly. Or would you like to hash this out right now and go over my other flaws?

Meeting him with anger isn’t fair.

You’re still not looking at the bigger picture, Kieran, Mozi adds with a sigh.

Rather than go for anger, he dives straight into guilt tripping and disappointment. I met with the elders today and in my absence, you forgot everything. What’s worse is that you rationalize your actions as a necessity.

A melodramatic dragon. That’s what we need.