Page 101 of Feralheart

But we won’t.

The certainty hit me like a splash of cold water. My lungs forgot how to expand. I lay there, not breathing, until the burn forced air back in.

She believed we’d survive. Believed it with the same bone-deep knowing that had made her choose me in the first place. Her certainty was infectious. Or maybe I’d been drowning in doubt for so long that accepting her faith made me feel lighter than air.

“Tomorrow, we’ll fly in front of everyone.”

Yes.

“Tomorrow we’ll show them what a real bond looks like.”

Yes.

“Tomorrow I’ll stop being invisible.”

Never invisible. Not to me.

I shifted closer, her cinnamon-stone scent surrounding me.

“I have to go back,” I said.

Selira puffed smoke from her nostrils.

Stay.

“I can’t. The race starts at dawn. They’ll look for me tonight.”

Stay. Safe in stone and water. Away from world that wants us dead.

She didn’t understand why I had to leave or why I’d go back to people who’d cage dragons and call it bonding.

“I don’t want to go,” I said. “But I have to race.”

Understanding filtered through slowly. Then resignation.

Dangerous.

“It is.”

They hurt you.

“I still have to go.”

She huffed, and I felt her acceptance settle into place. Acknowledgment that I’d made my choice, and she’d honor it even if she thought I was being stupid.

“Thank you for choosing me,” I said.

Warmth flooded the bond. Always my human.

I slid out from under her wing. My legs felt steadier now, but leaving was the same thing as tearing off skin.

When I reached the falls, I turned back. Selira watched me, her eyes glowing in the cave’s dimness. “Tomorrow at dawn.”

By the time I reached the trail through the forest, full night had descended. And by the time I slipped through the servants’ entrance on the side of the fortress, my boots squelching across the floor, I knew exactly what I was walking into.

A race I couldn’t win.

A bond I shouldn’t have.