Page 61 of The Wings That Bind

Viktor didn’t answer, not aloud, anyhow. But he didn’t let go. The pain only intensified. I tasted blood in my mouth. Then suddenly the room was full of wind and glass. I heard screaming—from someone else this time. Hazily, I forced my eyes open, feeling wetness on my cheeks, the taste of iron still in my mouth. The window had burst open. Outside the office window, a huge shape loomed, dark against the pale blue sky.

Nyxaris.

Fledgling. The word rumbled through me, filling me with warmth and hope.

You’re here, I thought back. How did you know where I was?

In future, fledgling, you will answer me when I make inquiry of you. The voice was cold with anger, yet I wasn’t afraid. I knew instinctively that his anger was not directed at me.

Y-yes. I will. I’m sorry.

You spoke of the bond between us, he observed. That is why they have brought you here.

I nodded weakly through our connection. Unable to even form words.

They would have learned of it sooner or later. Nyxaris sounded resigned.

The room spun with each flap of his wings. Pieces of broken glass littered the floor. Hassan crawled through the wreckage, blood running down her face. I watched as she reached Regan’s desk and scuttled beneath it. Regan stood against one wall, her face pale but composed, her hands pressed flat to the stone. Medra and Kage stood by the wall nearest the window, their arms still lifted to shield themselves from the burst of glass. Medra’s eyes were on me. She looked afraid for me.

Nyxaris hovered just beyond the ruined frame. His massive wings churned the air, obsidian scales gleaming. His amber eyes fixed on me. This highblood has threatened you? He has entered your mind, searching for signs of me?

I nodded. The jerk of my head caused a residual wave of pain to wash over me, and I moaned.

Viktor stood nearby. He held very still, his red eyes moving—first to me, then Nyxaris, then back again. He must have known we were talking about him. But all I cared about at that moment was that he was gone, his claws retracted from my mind.

I know this man, Nyxaris snarled. We have met before.

Viktor? I stared at the dragon stupidly. You know him? Yes, I suppose you would have encountered him at the Tribunal and when they tested you and Medra.

No. Nyxaris’s voice was grim. Long before that. Many years ago, I remember. Look at his face. He knows me, too.

I glanced at Viktor cautiously, wondering if it were true. His face was tight, his body tense—as if he were contemplating his next move.

Move to the door, Nyxaris commanded, his voice in my head so much gentler than Viktor’s had been. Then, in a completely different voice—one I had never heard him use before—I heard him say I see you, you highblood bastard. I see you seeing me, and I know you. I know your true name.

Beside me,Viktor … shifted. His bearing changed subtly, his body stiffening. I blinked at him, then looked around.The door had been left ajar in Hassan’s haste to enter. It was only a few feet behind me.

Move to the door now, Nyxaris demanded.