Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
I’ll spend the rest of my life thanking that dragon for not torching my best friend.
Sulfur scents the breeze, and my steps slow as I approach a small stream, apprehension seizing control of my heart for the first time today. I rein in the unease quickly, utterly rejecting the possibility that this might not be the best day of my life.
I’m here to find her.
The sun caresses my face as I walk out of the thicket, but any notion of comfort disappears with the muffled cry coming from the center of the clearing, where two riders are crouched. Scratch that. One of them is lying down while the other hovers.
“Oh, shit.” My feet falter at the edge of the open area that isn’t quite big enough to be called a meadow. There’s no visible scorch mark, but the trees on the left side are on fire. No wonder I smelled sulfur.
The crouching rider whips in my direction as she jolts to her feet, brandishing a hatchet and an expression more menacing than any dragon I’ve encountered—with the exception of that Blue Daggertail Riorson is bonded to.
Sgaeyl is the stuff of nightmares.
“I’m not a threat.” I throw my hands back at chest level, exposing my palms but keeping my weapons within reach.
The brunette with two silver stars along her collarbone lifts a pierced eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly around here, Matthias. The Orange Daggertail who just melted your year-mate’s face might come back.”
Melted?
My heart attempts to vault out of my throat, and I rush forward with complete disregard for the hatchet and the rebellion relic that winds around the second-year’s left arm. Dunne, don’t let it be any of my squadmates—
The sight I find breaks my heart all the same.
A girl from Tara’s squad lies on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut as she writhes in pain, and as much as I loathe the word “melted” when it comes to someone’s face, in this instance, it’s warranted. The entire right side of her face is red and blistered, and a strip of skin from her uniform collar to her scalp is just that…melted.
“Visia?” I drop to my knees beside her and grab ahold of her hand.
She squeezes back hard enough that her nails draw blood.
I hiss in pain, and Visia falls back, completely limp.
“Probably best she not be conscious for a bit,” the second-year says, returning to a crouch as she places her hatchet into the holster at her belt. Her patches trigger my memory. Her name is Eya, and she’s in first squad in my section. “That has to hurt like a bitch.”
“What do I do?” I ask, grasping onto Visia’s hand even though she’s unconscious.
“You continue with Threshing.” Eya looks over Visia with a sigh.
“Fuck that. I can’t just leave her here.” My head draws back. I’m nauseous just thinking about it.
“Keep that attitude.” A wry smile twists Eya’s mouth. “It will make you a front-runner for leadership next year.”
“I’m concerned about Visia surviving this year.”
“That’s not up to you.”
“This whole forest could catch fire.” I glance up at the smoking branches.
Eya holds out a hand and looks toward the trees. Her arm rises, and water flows upward from the stream, dousing the trees with a hissing sound.
“That’s impressive,” I admit as the stream falls back into place with a flick of Eya’s hand.
“Your argument is null and void. Now get—”
A low growl sounds from the right, and my stomach somersaults.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper as the growling orange pokes its head through the trees, baring its teeth. My heart starts to pound, but I keep enough of my wits to lower my eyes immediately. “I’m guessing that’s the one who melted Visia’s face?”
“Yep,” Eya responds, completely unbothered.
I stand slowly, wiping my bloody palm on my pants and keeping my gaze locked on the grass in front of the orange’s lowered snout. Shit, the thing is in firing position and there’s maybe twenty feet between us.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Eya rises behind me.
“She’s vulnerable.” My breath becomes choppy and the tugging sensation in my chest tries to pull me to the left, but I hold my ground. I’ll never forgive myself if that dragon kills Visia because I’m afraid to stand up for her.
“I’m right next to her, you naive first-year,” Eya lectures from behind me.
“And? Second- and third-years can only observe, not interfere,” I argue as the orange blows my braids back with a foul-smelling breath of steam.
“Ugh,” Eya gags, clearly getting a whiff of what I did. “Observing close up is enough of a deterrent right now. I’m bonded. If that orange screws with me, it will have my dragon to deal with. What does Kaori tell you about powerful dragons?”
“The more powerful the dragon, the more powerful the rider’s signet,” I reply as the orange stalks forward a single step, lifting its head slightly. “Not sure now is the right time for a lesson.”