Chapter 12
Drake
I lean back in my chair and reread the incident report one final time before hitting send. The document outlines everything that happened with the Tribute Harlow Santos.
Well, mostly everything that happened.
I scrub a hand over my face and hit send, watching the email disappear into the Council’s shared folder. Within minutes, every Council member will have access to the report. Within hours, they’ll be discussing my spectacular breach of protocol and deciding what consequences I should face.
My gut churns as I think about how badly I’ve fucked this up. Not just the saving her part – though that was bad enough – but everything that came after. The way I reacted when she screamed. The way every instinct I had told me to protect her at all costs.
I accused her of overreacting to that spider, but I was the one who had the real overreaction. The moment I heard her scream, something primal took over. Something that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the bond that now connects us.
When I threw myself on top of her, feeling her soft curves beneath me, smelling her scent, I lost my ever-loving mind.
I was seconds away from kissing her. Seconds away from forgetting everything – my position, my responsibilities, the fact that she’s supposed to leave this island and never look back.
I was ready to bury myself in her tight heat, to fuck her senseless.
I’ve always prided myself on my control. It’s how I became the youngest Council member in the island’s history. It’s how I’ve earned the respect of my colleagues despite my age. I’m disciplined, focused, and above all, I’m rational.
But around Harlow Santos, all of that goes out the window.
The worst part? I like how she stands up to me.
All of my subordinates cower when I speak to them.
I’m talking about shifters. All humans, especially the Tributes, are wary of me and treat me with the utmost respect.
But not her, not Harlow. She meets my anger with her own fire, challenges me when I’m being an ass, and refuses to be intimidated even when she probably should be.
It’s refreshing and infuriating and completely inappropriate.
I like it. I like her, and I hate that fact.
She needs to go. The sooner, the better.
I requested that she be allowed to move forward in my report to the rest of the Council members. I only hope that my request is granted.
I force myself to focus on my computer screen, opening my email to work through the dozens of messages that accumulated while I was gone.
The door to my office opens without a knock, and I look up to see Councilor Reed striding in. Her face is thunderous, her usual composed demeanor cracked by obvious fury.
She slams the door shut behind her with enough force to rattle the frame.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she demands, not bothering with pleasantries. “Rescuing that human like that? Going against everything we stand for? Have you completely lost your mind?”
I close my laptop and meet her blazing eyes.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I admit. “I reacted out of pure instinct.”
“Pure instinct?” Reed laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Your instincts nearly exposed everything we’ve worked for. Do you have any idea what could have happened if—?”
“It’s wrong that Tributes are dying,” I interrupt, my voice rising. “All of this is wrong. They’re dying for a lie, Reed. Every single one of them.” I stand.
“Keep your voice down,” she hisses, glancing toward the door. “You’re not even supposed to have that information. What you did yesterday could blow everything wide open and expose us all.”
I force myself to speak more quietly, but the frustration still bleeds through. “In the end, there was no harm done. So what if the other Tributes found out about us being shifters a little sooner than normal? They would have learned the truth before attempting to bond anyway.”
“No harm done?” Reed’s voice is incredulous. “You went against our most basic rules, Drake. No one has ever saved a Tribute before. Not ever. You’re setting a precedent that we can’t afford.”
“A good precedent,” I argue, leaning forward in my chair. “Maybe it’s time we did things differently. I’ve been working on ideas for a new system – a way for Tributes to still learn and grow, but with significantly less risk.”
Reed crosses her arms, her expression skeptical. “And how exactly are we supposed to separate the wheat from the chaff? Not all Tributes have the guts to be dragon riders. The current system exists for a reason.”
“There has to be a better way,” I insist. “We’ve reached a point where change is needed. The death toll is—”
“We have no obvious reason to change,” Reed cuts me off. “Not one that we can share with the other Council members. We can’t divulge what we know about the Mainland’s deception.”
I clench my jaw, knowing she’s right but hating it.
“We don’t need to divulge anything. Just because we’ve been doing things a certain way for years doesn’t mean it isn’t time for evolution. Even the way we conduct the mind-bonding process is far too dangerous. We need to develop methods that don’t involve so much death.”
Reed is quiet for a long moment, her anger seeming to cool as she considers my words.
“Fine. We can discuss potential changes. But not for this group of Tributes. We’ll table it for next year’s intake.”
“I don’t like it,” I say, “but you’re right. It’s too late to implement changes for this group. But know that I am going to push for change in the new year.”
Reed nods, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“Good. I’m glad you’re being reasonable.” She moves to sit in one of the chairs across from my desk. “Now, about Tribute Santos. When do you think she’ll be ready to make another attempt at Sky’s Edge?”
I take a seat as well. “Actually, I think we can move her to the next stage. The Tribute doesn’t need to make another attempt.”
Reed’s eyebrows shoot up. “What are you talking about? She hasn’t officially completed the course. She didn’t cross the finish line within the time limit. Why would you give her special treatment?”
“It’s not special treatment,” I say, choosing my words.
“The fact is, she survived an encounter with my dragon – no mean feat – and made it through one of the most dangerous sections of jungle on the island. The whole purpose of Sky’s Edge is to prove that Tributes have what it takes to survive the mind-bonding process and potentially become dragon riders.
She’s already proven that she can, and that is my objective assessment. ”
Reed stares at me for a long moment.
“Technically, the Tribute didn’t prove anything.
She should have died on Sky’s Edge, but you intervened.
” She pauses, then sighs. “But in the interest of moving things along, I suppose there’s some logic to your reasoning.
I’ll bring it to the Council this afternoon for a decision.
I’ll advocate for her to be allowed to move to the next stage. ”
Relief floods through me, though I try not to let it show.
“Good. I’ll do the same. We can work as a united front to—”
“No.” Reed holds up a hand, stopping me mid-sentence. “I don’t think you should be present at the meeting.”
“What? Why? I can help you. I have every right to be there.”
“You will be nailed to the wall and with good reason. Everyone is up in arms about what happened yesterday,” she explains, her tone gentler now but still firm.
“You’re not very popular at the moment. As the youngest and newest Council member, your position could be in jeopardy after what went down.
It’s best that you stay away from this particular discussion. I’ll handle it and advocate for you.”
My hands clench into fists. Being excluded from Council decisions – especially ones that affect me directly – goes against everything I’ve worked for. But, once again, I can see the logic in her reasoning, even if I hate it. It won’t help me to go in there halfcocked.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ll stay away.”
“I’ll call you later with the outcome,” Reed promises, standing up. Then her expression grows serious again. “Drake, I need you to understand something. What happened yesterday was a onetime thing. It can’t happen again.”
I hold back an eye roll. “I know that.”
“Do you?” She leans forward, her eyes intense.
“You can’t save the Tributes from our dragons during the mind-bonding attempt.
Understand that if you mess up again, I might not be able to protect you.
The Council might vote you out entirely.
I think you’re an asset; you have good ideas, and more importantly, I trust you.
There are very few people I can say that about. I don’t want to lose you.”
Reed is right, of course. I’m walking a tightrope, and one more misstep could send me plummeting.
“What happened yesterday was outside the norm,” I tell her. “I promise you, it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out. I understand that we will more than likely lose a few Tributes in the next stage of their training. I have resigned myself to that knowledge, as much as it irks me.”
My gut churns even as I say it. If she knew about the bond between Harlow and me…
For a second, I’m tempted to tell her, but I reject the thought outright.
She would lose her shit and might not advocate for me anymore at the meeting.
As long as Harlow follows my every instruction, all will be well, and she’ll be on her way home by this time tomorrow. No harm done.
I only pray that the rest of the Council votes in my favor. It’s a bridge I’ll cross when I get to it.
“Good.” Reed nods, looking satisfied. “I’ll be in touch later today.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
She nods once.
The moment the door closes behind her, I let out a breath and slump back in my chair. Everything is hanging in the balance. If anyone can advocate for me, it’s Reed. I just need to have a plan for the mind-bond attempt, and it needs to be rock solid.
I press the intercom button on my desk. “Amelia, can you come in here, please?”
A few seconds later, my dragon rider and personal assistant appears in the doorway, her dark hair pulled back in its usual neat ponytail. She takes one look at my face and immediately closes the door behind her.
“Everything okay?” she asks, though it’s clear from her expression that she can tell something’s wrong. “You look like someone just told you that you’re being fed to the Red Dragons.”
I gesture to the chair Reed just vacated. “Sit…please. I have something I need to tell you.”
She frowns. “It looks serious.”
“It is,” I tell her, steepling my hands on my desk. “It’s important and I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.” Understatement of the century.
“You’re making me nervous,” she says as she sinks down into the chair.
Amelia is going to lose her shit when I tell her about Harlow Santos.