Page 161 of Wings of Destruction

He scoffs. Sure, if you want to make yourself feel better by taking a swipe at me, then by all means. I have much thicker scales than you do. It’s something you’ve never managed to learn in our years together.

There’s no hiding things from him, not when he’s in my head this way. We give each other privacy most of the day, respecting the boundaries of our relationship, but what’s going to happen to Mozi when I get kicked out of the school?

Blast if I’ll head to my father’s house like a kicked dog with my tail between my legs.

I’d lived with the man since I was thirteen and he’d developed some sort of complex. Not about fatherhood, but about legacies. He’d forced me into school under his watchful eye and paraded me past potential mounts at an early age.

Dragons.

I only had one choice in the matter, and luckily for everyone involved, Mozi had chosen me on the eve of my fifteenth birthday. He’d seen in me a fierce morality and a strategic mind.

Which, apparently, I’d lost today.

It seems there is much for me to remind you of, Mozi whispers, smoke curling in my head with enough potency for me to smell. And only one way for you to find out the true facets of the bigger picture. It’s time for you to start facing the music, my friend.

Less music, and more a funeral dirge, I reply.

There’s no good way out of this.

Mozi’s voice hardens. Come to see me. Now.

My mouth dries and I glance back at the empty hallway and the line of doors leading to plush rooms reserved for the elite. My cousin’s bedroom, mine…

I don’t have a choice at this point. My protests fall silent at Mozi’s growing annoyance.

How close are you? I ask.

Close enough for me to meet you at our spot. He cuts right to the point.

He drops silence between us and it’s powerful enough to swallow me up. I straighten, my hand still gripping the window ledge as I fight against the urge to punch something. To break glass and watch the diamond shards disappear into the black night.

The minutes tick by. Facing Mozi will be much less painful than Harbi. This might not go the way I’d planned but maybe together, we can find a way to salvage it.

Too bad I don’t believe in fairy tales.

The real world is harsher, harder, and I feel in my bones that bad things are coming.

Thirty-Four

Morgan

The blade’s edge bites deep into the pole, carving away a chunk of wood that skitters across the mat.

My pulse pounds in my ears and I inhale sharply, reeling in the pause.

Kieran’s words repeat to me no matter how many times I tear at my hair and use the pain to clear my head.

You either find your tribe here, find people who feel the way you do, or you die. Only this time? You’ll take me with you. And it’s the price I’ll have to pay.

It’s for my mother’s sake. For my sister’s. For the people he cut down on that field like they were nothing and no one would be able to stop him.

Maybe I’m insane but the consequences don’t really matter to me anymore. My situation gets worse every day, like the universe itself is pressing into me and refusing to let me up for air.

“I can’t give up everything for you, Kieran,” I say.

It will hurt too badly when it fails. And then I’ll have compromised for nothing. I bend to retrieve the dagger and my fingers brush the mat. Thoughts race away from me until a muscle at the base of my jaw begins to tick.

It’s a feather light fluttering but my split lip throbs anyway.