37. Aurora
AURORA
“So I heard you Impressed a golden egg,” were Ryse’s first words to me the next time we were alone, during our morning work-out the next day. He’d been quiet and watchful the night before at dinner, not saying a word but only giving me his bowl of Dragon Custard as usual.
When one of the other Second-years started to tease me about my “fake egg,” a single look from Ryse had shut them up. And so, we had eaten in silence.
But now he was breaking that silence.
I took a deep breath and looked up at him.
Not you too, I wanted to say. Please, Ryse—not you too.
Instead, I said,
“Yes, I did.” And left it at that.
“I see.” He nodded and didn’t say anything. He was doing pull-ups like they were the easiest thing in the world while I curled some weights and for a while we exercised in silence with only the occasional grunt from Ryse as he pulled himself upward, over and over, like a machine.
At last I couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“It’s a little girl,” I said, glaring up at him defiantly. “And she already has a name—L’eesha. She named herself.”
“M’alex named himself,” he said.
I was so surprised I nearly dropped a weight on my toe.
“He did?”
“Sure.” He did one more pull-up and dropped lightly to the ground before turning to face me. “He told me his name as soon as he hatched. I had something all picked out—didn’t get to use it.” He laughed.
I felt the corners of my mouth twitch.
“So…you believe me? About my egg? Because no one else does.”
“I believe you.” He nodded. “Just be careful—the really intelligent dragons can be hard to handle.” A smile spread across his face, and I knew he was thinking of his dragon. “I remember how hard it was until M’alex matured. Talk about growing pains!”
“Dragons have growing pains?” I asked with interest.
“Oh yes—because they grow so fast.” He nodded.
“And believe me—you feel every bit of them. They’re like the worst muscle cramps and aches you’ve ever had in your life!
Not to mention their enormous appetite—I bet I gained twenty pounds while M’alex was still growing.
” He patted his flat belly. “Took it off again though, when he finished.”
We were talking so naturally, I began to feel less defensive.
“L’eesha already wants to bite Master Yarsmouth for not believing me about her,” I admitted.
Ryse gave a startled laugh.
“What? Bloodthirsty little thing, isn’t she?”
“I’m afraid she is,” I admitted. “But she was only angry with him because I got angry. She felt like he was threatening me, I think.”
Ryse sobered abruptly.
“You have to really keep a check on your emotions when your dragon is growing, Lysandra,” he lectured me.
“Dragon’s amplify human emotions and broadcast them back to you, making you feel them even more strongly.
” He frowned. “It’s probably going to be worse for you, with your gift.
The same way it’s bad for me because of my dragon blood. ”
I looked at his golden eyes and the glimmering scales that flashed gold and purple around his temples and his high cheekbones.
“Do you mean…you have feelings like a dragon does?” I asked hesitantly.
He nodded shortly.
“I was what my parents called ‘a strong-willed child.’ I felt everything so deeply—every mild rebuke was an attack, every denial was a crisis, every time my parents left for a party I was utterly fucking abandoned and sure they were never coming back.” He shook his head ruefully. “I wasn’t exactly an easy kid.”
“And…do you still feel that way?” I asked, remembering how enraged he’d gotten when he’d seen the bruises Chud Larson left on my neck.
“I do.” He nodded. “I can’t help it—I feel everything.” He looked at me intently. “I won’t lie to you, Auri—when I hate someone, I want to kill them. And when I love someone, I never want to let them go. I’m possessive—just like a dragon.”
His gaze was so intense, I had to drop my eyes.
For some reason, I felt my cheeks heating with a blush.
Why did he make me feel hot and cold all over when he looked at me like that?
And how much more difficult must it be for him to keep a rein on his emotions when he had the deep, all-encompassing feelings of a dragon inside, rather than the more shallow and fleeting feelings of a human?
“How do you do it?” I asked softly, daring to look up at him again. “How do you keep all your feelings in check when you feel so deeply?”
“It’s not easy,” he said grimly. “But my father taught me some meditation techniques when I was old enough. They help me keep myself—and M’alex—in check. I’ll teach them to you, if you want.”
“Would you?” I asked gratefully. I had a feeling I would need them. L’eesha was going to be a handful when she hatched, and I could already feel her emotions affecting mine whenever I touched the shell of her egg.
“I’ll be happy to. Come on—sit here beside me with your legs crossed.”
He settled on a mat on the floor and patted the mat beside him.
I went and sat by him and crossed my legs.
“Good. Now take a deep breath and blow it out through your nose,” Ryse instructed. “Most of this is breathing and doing your best to clear your mind…”
He led me through what he called a “guided meditation” and when we were done, I really did feel calmer and more in control of myself.
“Remember,” Ryse said to me, as he rose from the floor and offered me a hand up. “You’re responsible for your own emotions and—until they mature—your dragon’s emotions too. It’s up to you to be steady and calm for both of you.”
“I’ll practice what you taught me,” I promised.
“Good. I do it before bed every night. Helps you fall asleep, too.” He nodded. “Okay, almost time for First Bell—we’d better get going.”
He was packing up to leave but I couldn’t let him go—not yet.
“Ryse…” I touched his arm, and he turned towards me immediately.
“Yes?”
“Why do you believe me?” I blurted out, unable to think of a better way to put it. “About my egg, I mean. About L’eesha. No one else does.”
“I believe you because you’re a trustworthy person, Auri.” He looked into my eyes. “You’ve never lied to me—not once.”
And then, as my stomach twisted into knots of shame, he turned and left the gym, leaving me to wonder if I would ever be able to tell him the truth.