18. Mina
Mina
Eve before solstice break…
Isobel’s voice drones on about the histories of faerie dragons, her words weaving in and out of my focus as I sit between Cora and Garrett in our lit class. The room buzzes with the quiet rustling of papers and the occasional whisper, but all eyes remain on the delicate creature fluttering gracefully from desk to desk—my familiar, Iris. The shimmer of her wings catches the light, casting soft, iridescent shadows that dance across the room. She flicks her tail, sending a ripple of magic that has the students leaning closer, enchanted.
Isobel’s reading reaches the story of the notable faerie dragon Ysolde, a familiar that bonded so deeply with her witch that their magic became one. “Only in rare cases,” Isobel’s voice rises with a hint of excitement, “do faerie dragons choose a partner so fully that they bind their souls together for eternity.”
I feel Iris’s presence flare slightly through our bond, a pulse of warmth that tugs at the corner of my lips. I know she’s as proud as I am, her tiny head tilting as she glances back at me.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Cora whispers, leaning closer. Her voice barely reaches me, but I catch the mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Tomorrow?” I tilt my head, mirroring Iris’s curious expression. My gaze shifts to Cora, noting the way her lips quirk upward, the excitement barely contained.
“Solstice break!” she hisses, waggling her eyebrows. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks.”
I roll my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips. “We’re leaving after this class,” I say calmly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Her pencil clatters to the floor. “What?” She stares at me, jaw slack, eyes wide with shock. The ripple of her reaction draws a few curious glances from the students nearby.
“We’re flying to my family’s nest,” I explain, shifting slightly in my seat. Garrett straightens beside me, his attention fully on us now.
“Are we all being picked up?” he asks, leaning back and locking his gaze with mine, the uncertainty flickering in his eyes. I bite back a sigh, noting the way his shoulders tense, the way he looks like he’s bracing himself.
“We’re flying. I don’t know if my dad is sending a car for you and Addy.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. Dad isn’t sending anything for them, and we both know it. Garrett’s failed too many times as a guard, and I can only imagine what kind of punishment awaits him.
Cora’s fingers brush my arm, her touch gentle. “Are you and my brother better?” she asks softly, concern clouding her eyes. “I mean, you haven’t been crying at night anymore. And you’ve been eating more again.” There’s a warmth to her voice that wraps around my chest, squeezing tight. She’s such a good friend. Too good.
“We’re … getting there.” I force out a laugh that feels too hollow, too brittle. “Maybe a month of me not almost being murdered every few days will do us some good.” The words come out sharper than I intend, but Cora doesn’t flinch. She just nods, understanding etched in her gaze. “I won’t be in the dorm with you after the break,” I continue, glancing down at my hands. “Lysander is giving us a place in either Malivore or Shadowcarve—depending on if an egg chooses me or not.”
Addy’s head snaps up, her face pale. “Most don’t live if the egg hatches.”
A chill trickles down my spine at her words, settling deep in my bones. I meet her gaze evenly, letting the silence stretch between us. “I’m well aware,” I say quietly, refusing to let the fear show. The room seems to still, tension simmering just beneath the surface. Even Iris pauses mid-flight, hovering near the windowsill as if sensing the shift in the air.
Before anyone can say more, the sharp, piercing ring of the bell shatters the silence. Relief floods through me, the sudden reprieve almost dizzying. Literally saved by the bell. I stand, gathering my things with more urgency than grace.
I make it back to my dorm room in record time, my heart pounding with a mix of relief and nerves. The door creaks as I push it open, and I’m immediately met with the sight of Abraxis standing near the doorway, directing the movers like some kind of sentinel. His eyes flick to mine as I enter, and the tension in my shoulders eases—just a little.
“Wow, that was quick.” My voice sounds breathless even to my own ears. I take in the sight of the unfamiliar males hauling my belongings out of the space I’ve called mine for the last two semesters.
Abraxis shifts slightly, his wings fluttering as he rattles off the explanation. “Lysander wants to move the new female in after break. Your stuff will be in my old quarters until the trial. When we return, we’ll stay in your room at Shadowcarve.” He pauses, his brow furrowing as if he’s trying to measure his words. Then, in a sudden, uncharacteristic moment, he looks at me sheepishly. “If that’s okay with you?”
It’s not often that I see him like this—unsure. His hand scrubs down his face before he flexes his wings again, the tension clear in every feathered line. “Shit, I overstepped, didn’t I? Balor warned me I might do it.”
Abraxis rambles on, and I’m too surprised to interrupt. It’s such a stark contrast to the fierce, protective drake I’ve come to know. The way his voice speeds up, almost tripping over itself, like he’s afraid he’s ruined something before it’s even begun. It’s the most adorable thing ever.
I close the distance between us and reach out, resting a hand on his forearm to still him. The contact sends a soft shiver up my spine, but I keep my voice steady. “You’re the drake. Your goal is to provide and protect. I’m just … shocked, that’s all. Nothing bad, I promise.”
His eyes meet mine, searching for any trace of deception, and then his shoulders drop ever so slightly. “Okay, good. I sent our bags ahead, so we didn’t have to figure out how to carry them while shifted.” He turns back to watch the movers, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head as he double-checks each of their movements .
“You thought of everything.” I tilt my head, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. The unfamiliar sense of not having to be in charge all the time is going to take some getting used to, but … I think I might like it. “Is my outfit in the bathroom like I asked?” I ask softly, watching as the tension slowly bleeds out of him.
“Yeah, it’s in there,” he replies, the corner of his mouth lifting in a tentative smile. He shifts his weight and glances toward the window. “I’ll wait over here for you.”
He gestures to the window seat—a familiar spot where he often watches over me—and then steps away to give me space. My gaze lingers on him for a moment longer, tracing the lines of his wings before I slip into the bathroom.
Closing the door behind me, I exhale slowly, feeling the weight of everything settle around me. The air is thick with a mixture of unease and anticipation. Moving my things, staying in his quarters, staying together at my parents’ nest... it’s all happening so fast.
The outfit is laid out neatly on the counter, exactly how I requested. I run my fingers over the soft fabric, Abraxis’s thoughtfulness clear in every detail. My heart swells with something I can’t quite name as I change quickly, smoothing down the material and shaking out my hair. The mirror reflects a version of myself I’m not quite familiar with—a girl who doesn’t have to face the world alone anymore.
With one last steadying breath, I open the door. Abraxis glances up from his spot by the window, his gaze immediately softening as he takes me in. “Ready?” he asks, his voice a low, soothing rumble that makes my insides warm.
I nod, the smallest of smiles tugging at my lips. “Yeah. Ready.”
My heart pounds in my chest as I slip my hand into his, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine. His eyes flicker with surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. We weave through the maze of the dorms until we step outside, the chill night air biting at my cheeks.
“The flight field is this way,” he murmurs, pointing with his free arm. Then something shifts in his gaze—a mischievous, almost wicked gleam lights up his expression. Before I can react, his arms are around me, strong and secure, and suddenly, the world tilts.
A startled gasp escapes me as we launch into the sky, his wings beating powerfully against the wind. The sensation of weightlessness sends a burst of laughter spilling from my lips, the sound foreign and unexpected. Did that really just come from me? He glances down, eyes wide and curious at my reaction, before returning his focus to the horizon.
“I didn’t think your wings could bear both our weights,” I murmur breathlessly, the words almost lost in the rush of wind. My fingers tighten around his neck as he shifts us higher, the lights of the academy shrinking below.
“Sorry, this was faster,” he says, his voice low and steady, though he doesn’t tear his gaze away from where he’s headed. I follow his line of sight, marveling at the ease with which he maneuvers us through the air.
Around us, several other dragons launch from their perches, silhouettes in the dark, their wings carrying them to unknown destinations. We land on the far side of the field, and he sets me down with a gentleness that belies his strength .
“It might be easier if you shift first,” he suggests, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. “Having a drake looming over you may make your dragon concerned about emerging.”
His forethought catches me off guard, and I nod, stepping away. I scan the field, ensuring I have the space I need before closing my eyes and reaching inward. The shift is almost instantaneous, my dragoness bursting forth in a swirl of energy. I feel the rush of power ripple through me as I stretch my wings wide, their membranes catching the waning light.
I turn my head, marveling at the sight of her—of me. My body is armored like my mother’s, dark gray scales glinting with an emerald sheen as I move. Abraxis steps closer, his gaze sweeping over me with an expression that makes a shiver run down my spine. His smile is pleased, almost feral, as he lets his own drake explode into existence.
The air crackles with energy as his pitch-black drake unfurls massive wings, curved horns scraping the sky. Glints of crimson and bronze flash in the fading light, subtle but unmistakable, much like the hidden colors in my own scales. He dips his head, and I catch the unspoken challenge in his eyes.
Without hesitation, I leap into the sky, the powerful thrust of my wings sending me soaring above the clouds. I climb higher, higher still, until the stars blur around me and the campus below is but a speck of light. I hover, waiting, daring him to catch up.
He doesn’t keep me waiting long. His drake surges through the cloud cover, a blur of shadows and power, and then he’s at my side. Our dragons are similar in size for now, but I know that won’t last. Females are always larger than males—stronger, too—for reasons even the oldest of our kind can’t explain .
We ride the thermals, the currents of air lifting us effortlessly. He circles around me, a dark blur in the sky, his movements deliberate as he weaves in and out of my path, trying to distract me. I snarl softly, amused, and make a sharp dive below the clouds, veering towards the familiar pull of my mother’s nest.
A part of me hesitates, but I push forward, angling us towards the gauntlet and training grounds, where I spent countless hours proving my worth. I sense his confusion through our half-formed bond, feel the ripple of shock as he sees the place I once called home.
The gauntlet sprawls beneath us, a deadly labyrinth of jagged rocks, shifting platforms, and traps designed to cripple the unprepared. Far more lethal than anything the academy has thrown at me. I feel his understanding settle in—a dawning realization of what I endured, what shaped me.
With a powerful beat of my wings, I change course once more, diving straight for the heart of the Risedale nest. We land in the courtyard, our presence a sudden disruption that draws immediate attention. My mother and father step forward, their gazes lifting to take in the sight of my dragoness.
Shock flares in their eyes as they study me. I see it mirrored in their expressions—the recognition of my mother’s scales, the dark gray hue tinted with emerald, the powerful crest running between my horns that I inherited from my father. And then, as I shift back into my human form, I catch the pride gleaming in my father’s eyes.
“Welcome home,” he says, his voice reverberating through the courtyard. His gaze lands on the bonding mark at my throat, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind.
I sense, rather than see, Abraxis land behind me, his massive drake casting a shadow that blots out the light. The courtyard falls silent as he shifts, the sheer power radiating off him enough to send even the bravest of dragons to their knees.
But not my father. He merely lifts his chin, a slow, calculating smile spreading across his face. I swallow hard, nerves thrumming beneath my skin as I stand between them.
This—this moment changes everything. And I’m not sure what I’ve set into motion.