Page 94 of Feralheart

The aerie dragons were the broken ones. The elite had taken creatures that could be this and turned them into tools that responded to pain.

Movement erupted in the shadows, and I froze, my hand going to the talon-blade at my hip.

Selira stepped into the light.

She was smaller than I remembered, though she still towered over me and could’ve swallowed me in just a few bites. But compared to the aerie dragons I’d tended, she was compact. Built for speed, not spectacle.

Her stone-gray coloring caught the light and threw it back in shades of purple. The pale stripe along her snout stood out like a scar, marking her as wild-born. The wound on her leg where the trap had bitten deep had healed to a darker patch, slightly raised but closed.

Her eyes found mine. Intelligence looked back at me.

A lifetime of surviving screamed at me to back away slowly and run. Wild dragons killed. That’s what the stories said. What the elite believed. What I’d been taught since I could walk.

Except she’d had chances to kill me. In the clearing when I’d freed her. When she’d stood on the trail ahead of me. Even now, cornered in her own den, she could end me before I drew breath to scream.

She didn’t move.

“Why me?” The question came out raw. Not servant-small or careful. Just…raw. An ache bloomed in my throat. “Why would you want me?”

The stillness between us stretched, and I realized she was waiting, though not for permission. Wild dragons wouldn’t ask for that. She was waiting to see what I’d do.

I could leave. Walk away and pretend I’d never found this place. Beg to register a different dragon. Find another way.

Except there was no other way. And my feet weren’t moving toward the exit.

I took a step forward.

Selira’s nostrils flared, scenting me. Her pupils narrowed, then widened, studying me in the same way I’d seen Heartsbrim do when I’d first approached her stall years ago. Reading intent.

Another step.

The cave felt smaller now. Or she was bigger. The space between us hummed with something I didn’t have a name for yet.

“I freed you.” My voice echoed off the stone. “In the woods. The trap.”

She knew, but speaking it aloud made it real.

“I don’t know why you came back or why you’ve been following me. Dropping a scale and a talon like breadcrumbs.” My throat choked off. “I came because you called, but I don’t know what you want from me.”

Her head lowered, and she watched me with eyes that said she’d been expecting me all along.

Pain stabbed through my chest, almost too sharp to manage.

Choice.

The feeling hit me before the word formed. Not mine. Hers.

I froze.

Her eyes held mine, unblinking, and the feeling came again. Stronger.

I chose.

“You’re choosing me?” I whispered.

The certainty that flooded back wasn’t language. It was too big for that. But I understood it the way you know thunder means rain is coming.

Yes. You.