29. Eradin #2
My chest had unlocked a door I’d been holding shut since the garden when he’d killed for me and the kitchen when he’d packed my supplies and almost kissed me. I’d stopped being able to pretend he was just another elite I could hate from a safe distance.
Feeling anything for this man was dangerous, a cliff edge I’d been avoiding since he’d stood with the water I’d spilled near his boots.
Last night, he’d been close enough I’d felt his heartbeat under my palm. I’d seen his pupils dilate when our fingers touched. And I’d wondered what his kiss would taste like.
I was still wondering.
And now he was succeeding where others had failed.
He urged Aristus to continue across the water, making it to the other side, where he circled, watching us waiting on the opposite shore.
I couldn’t breathe.
He’d just proven what Selira had been trying to tell me. He’d discovered what real trust looked like. And he’d chosen to listen for both himself and Aristus. In front of his team, his court. In front of everyone watching on the viewing screens.
And his eyes—those gray eyes that had looked at me like I was worth killing for—held something that made my stomach flip.
I still wanted to survive the race and win the wish for Tolross. But underneath that, I wanted to reach the other side where Fenian would be waiting. I needed to see what happened when we stopped pretending distance was safer than getting closer.
He’d shown everyone that mist wasn’t just a blind nightmare eager to kill. It reacted to the magic binding the dragons, and it reacted to fear.
The horror of it all blasted through me, making me shake.
I spun in my seat, lifting my voice, hoping someone—anyone—would listen. “Drop your reins! Let your dragons fly free.”
Reece’s head jerked toward me, confusion creasing his face.
“The mist is hunting the magic in the tack.” My voice cracked from the strain of projecting over the water. “Fenian crossed because he let Aristus choose the path.”
Lyndie’s gaze snapped to Fenian and Aristus, still circling on the other side of the lake, and her eyes narrowed. Understanding flickered across her face before she turned back to me. “That’s…actually brilliant.”
But Kerrel wasn’t listening. His dragon flew higher, pulling away from the shore, away from us. His hands had blanched on the reins, and he was yanking them tighter instead of releasing them.
Seeing that their prince had made it across, most of those waiting on the shore urged their dragons into flight.
“No reins,” I cried out. “Let your dragon fly free!”
When had the elite ever listened to a commons?
They flew out over the water, jerking on the reins, kicking the beasts to make them go faster.
Mist rose, picking them off one by one, yanking them down. Their shrieks bit off to gurgles, followed by silence.
Kerrel flew his dragon back and forth above the shore, sawing on the reins, trying to urge the beast out over the water. His dragon swept lower, so low Lady Severine had to duck.
She shook her fist at him and shot me a glare. “You did something, didn’t you?”
The anger in her eyes could sever my spine. I understood why she was furious. If Fenian could fly this way, what did that mean about their bonds? Their entire system had been built on domination, and without it, they were nothing but commons with a handful of magical abilities.
“He’s trying to change things,” I said, lifting my chin. “You should be supporting him, not making this harder.”
“Fuck that,” she growled. “We’re not changing a damn thing.”
“Then you’ll die like the others.”
Selira’s satisfaction hummed through our connection.
Told you. Feral does not die. It sleeps and now awakens.
I sensed the words weren’t directed at me but at Aristus.
The mist surged, frustrated, seeking easier prey. It found it in the dragons and riders who hauled on their reins. Some made it to the opposite shore, but others died, their screams cutting off when they were sucked down into the water.
Selira’s gnashed her fangs and clawed at the sand. No listen. Fly free!
I pressed my palms to her neck where the scales met muscle, and warmth flooded through me. The red lines across my palms glowed, sending soothing warmth through our bond.
Lyndie’s eyes locked on my hand.
“You’re using magic, but you’re commons,” she said. “How?”
The scale at my neck burned hotter, a warning. I’d been too obvious. Stupid. I’d assumed no one would know what I was doing.
My spit had turned into a rock I couldn’t swallow down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
“But I…saw.”
Everything inside me screamed. Lyndie would remember. Would Lyndie tell?
Commons with magic didn’t get disqualified, they disappeared.
They’d ask questions first. Where did you get it, who taught you, and what else can you do? Then I’d vanish into whatever hole the crown kept for people who threatened their careful order.
My mother had hidden hers her whole life. Long sleeves in summer. Treatments in darkness. She’d died with ruined palms no one questioned because commons women’s hands were supposed to look like that.
And I’d just exposed myself to a woman who forgot nothing.
Lyndie met my gaze one more time before turning back to the lake. “We need to cross before that thing decides we look tasty enough to climb up onto the shore.”
Just because she wasn’t shouting it out, telling the watching world, didn’t mean she wouldn’t use this against me. The knowledge sat between us now, a blade she could draw whenever she chose.
“I’ve… I’ve got to try,” Kerrel called out, swooping his dragon overhead once more.
“Drop your reins,” I shouted. “Let your dragon guide you!”
He didn’t even glance my way. Kicking his dragon, he yanked the reins to the right, urging the beast out over the water.
“Kerrel, no,” Reece bellowed. “Come back!”
More dragons burst from the sand, flying beside him, aiming for the other side. The mist snapped up, reaching for the lowest-flying dragons. Elite teams scattered, self-preservation making their motions jerky.
Kerrel’s worn-out dragon started lagging behind.
“Kerrel,” I yelled. “Come back. There’s still time!”
He kicked his dragon and sawed on the reins, aiming for the thinnest part of the mist. His dragon screamed in terror, and Kerrel screamed along with it.
The mist rose up like it had been waiting for this invitation.
Stone spread across his mount faster than thought. They fell before their screams finished, and the mist took what was left before they hit the surface.
Reece’s jaw hung slack. “What the fuck is this stuff?” The blue scarf around his wrist fluttered.
“Death,” Lyndie said. “His and probably ours.” She swiped tears from her eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I have to do this. I know it, but I’m so fucking scared.”
“He didn’t listen,” I said, my throat raw. “He just kept yanking on the stupid reins.”
The wall behind us shuddered and shifted closer, crowding us toward the water.
Lyndie stiffened her spine and loosened her grip on the reins, the way I’d told them to. Her dragon’s head lifted, his nostrils flaring. “We have no choice. We’ve got to fly.”
Reece stared at the spot where Kerrel had disappeared, grinding his teeth. He let his reins go slack. “Freedom. No control.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “My dragon knows better than I do.”
His mount’s breathing changed, the panicked edge smoothing.
I’d tracked the mist patterns, the way it surged and receded, the timing of it all.
More elites left the shore—that was still receding. We had seconds, maybe less. The shore behind us was disappearing, consumed. Only a thin strip remained.
Cross or die. Those were the only options left.
Selira’s muscles coiled beneath me.
I pressed my palms against her neck again. The red lines glowed brighter, warmth flooding through me into her. She could feel what I needed from her, and I could feel what she needed from me.
We were going to do this together, or we weren’t doing it at all.
The mist rolled toward us, silver tendrils testing the sand where we crowded together.
“Remember,” I said. “Let them fly. Don’t fight them.”
“Got it,” Reece called back.
Lyndie nodded.
The lake surface rippled as the rest of the elite soared over it. Waves spread from the center in circles, something large moving through the depths. Following. The ripples grew, becoming swells, the surface breaking into motion.
Whatever lived down there had been sleeping. And now it was awake. Hunting.
Selira’s muscles bunched beneath me.
Fly now!
“Yes,” I hissed. “Now.”
She leaped into the air, wings snapping out, and shot across the lake.