Page 102 of Feralheart

And a dragon who’d claimed me despite everything.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

FEN

Icouldn’t think about all the ways Aristus was going to die any longer. That was why I left my bed at midnight instead of sleeping like every other rider entered in the Scorching.

The fortress corridors had gone quiet, the silence heavy.

I’d learned the castle and fortress’s rhythms by the time I was ten. Most people were asleep by the second bell. The imps flew at dawn.

Midnight belonged to me.

The faelights lighting the hallways had dimmed to almost nothing, the sprites inside barely glowing anymore. The dying ones would be replaced tomorrow with fresh ones, bred for this purpose, their short lives spent generating light for people who’d never see them as anything but tools.

Aristus’s stall was in the elite wing of the aerie, third from the end. Large enough to hold three dragons, with enchanted braziers that kept the temperature perfect and a feeding trough that never needed filling because servants handled that before we even noticed it was empty.

When I signaled the magical light, his head swung toward me, his silver-touched scales catching the dim light. He tracked my movement, his pupils sluggish.

That was new. Or newer. They should’ve contracted when I turned on the light.

“Hey,” I said softly.

He made a low sound in his chest.

I crossed to his side and ran my hand along his neck, feeling for the spot at his jaw hinge that usually made him relax. I pressed gently.

His eye half-closed. The tension in his neck eased.

But his pupils stayed too wide. I counted, the way you count the seconds between lightning and thunder to see how close the storm is.

How close the end is.

I had to swallow twice before I could keep scratching.

His wings twitched. Again. The tremor had a rhythm now. Every three seconds. His next exhale hitched. The one after that caught as well.

I felt his discomfort through our bond, though not pain. More that something was wrong, and he didn’t know how to tell me.

Healers had suggested I retire him and bond with another. I didn’t want to bond with anyone but Aristus.

Tomorrow, he’d fly until his wings gave out if that’s what I asked of him, because he loved me as much as I loved him.

He nuzzled my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck.

Then his head turned to the mesh gate covering the exit to the enormous valley beyond. I followed his gaze but found nothing there but moonlit darkness. He made a low sound, almost a whine. His body tensed, his attention fixed on whatever it was I couldn’t see.

This wasn’t the usual unease I felt when I was with him. This felt different.

Aristus rose and lumbered toward the mesh, stopping to peer out. His tail lashed.

“What do you see?”

I tried to sooth him, joining him at the opening to scratch his jaw hinge again.

His uneasiness coming through our bond intensified. And underneath it, a pulling sensation. A rope tied around my sternum, tugging me toward…

I didn’t know what.