Page 180 of Wings of Destruction

He yawns, stretches, his claws digging grooves into stone. And yet it amuses me to watch you struggle. It’s the only way to ensure you grow.

I’ve done enough growing. At least, in my mind.

I’m not sure what to do, I finally admit, digging my hands into my pockets. She isn’t going to change her mind and agree. My expulsion is inevitable.

Go to the headmistress and plead your case. Tell her it’s a case of temporary insanity. You allowed your human instincts to override your logic.

The way he says it⁠—

Human instincts. Things like desire and need are blockages to be overcome. More times than not, he’s told me how true power resides only in mastery over self. Today, I let myself be unseated.

With a huff, Mozi shifts forward and flicks out a wing to block me from the rain. I blink up at him with water stinging my eyes.

Maybe I want to be soaked.

He grimaces. Humans are little better than wet dogs when they are soaked, he clarifies. Go in from the storm, Kieran. It will only get worse and we accomplish nothing when you punish yourself.

No, I think you’d rather do it for me.

I consider it my right. He lifts a claw to nudge me in the direction of the aerie. None of the other dragons would put up with you the way I have.

Correction. I’m the one who puts up with you.

The wind batters us and brings with it the freshness of the autumn storm. A crack in the distance heralds the lightning, followed by a deep boom of thunder, causing the loose pebbles on the cliffside to jump.

Inside the aerie, none of the dragons are bothered by the storm. The cave looks carved by a giant’s hand, the missing pieces of the mountain tossed aside. Dragons are more solitary than many of the other mounts and those who choose to roost here overnight are spaced with enough room to ignore each other.

Mozi stiffens, his head whipping around and his lips peeling away from his teeth. She’s here.

The energy in the aerie shifts and changes.

I don’t need him to tell me which woman he meant. There’s only one who burrows under the skin this way. She travels like mist through the mind and takes up residence in the smallest spaces.

Headmistress Harbi and Morgan appear from the mouth of the entrance and as their feet hit the cave floor, my stomach drops. My entire being reaches out for her and I’ve never felt entirely as off balance as I do now.

Morgan’s hair is a flash of red in the gray light.

Harbi leads with her staff and the great roar in the distance, the rustle of wings, says her dragon is not far, blending in with the night.

Mozi looks at me, his eyes narrowed with concern and his energy spiking inside my head.

Before I have a chance to voice anything, Harbi stops in front of me, her green robe belted at her waist and buttoned up to her neck to stave off the chill.

“Mr. Ryson.” She scans me from the top of my widow’s peak to the tips of my boots. Her lip curls. “You’re in luck.”

In luck?

“Why?” I ask hollowly.

I’ve never been the man with luck, because privilege and luck have nothing to do with one another. Power is everything in this kingdom and my father is one of the most powerful and privileged men alive at the moment.

But lucky? No. I’ve never considered myself that.

Pay attention, Mozi spits.

Harbi sweeps her arm back and her robes swish. “Miss Whyte has decided to stay, so you are staying as well.”

My chest releases in a great rush. I hadn’t realized I’d been tensing so greatly until I relaxed. I get to stay. For now.