Sawyer #3
“But by gods, you don’t get to show any of that.
” I shake my head violently. “Only strength is permissible in the quadrant, permissible to you. We have to be hard as steel, sharper than a honed blade. Perfection isn’t the exception, it’s the standard, and those who don’t meet it find themselves bleeding out on the challenge mat to preserve the efficacy of the wing.
Can’t have any weak riders running around feeling things, now can we? ”
A burst of air hits me in the face, jarring me from my tirade, and my head jerks to the left as Bregh and Trina launch. They take to the sky with powerful wingbeats that send gust after gust in our direction. I only catch a glimpse of Trina as they climb vertically, and my brow furrows.
Her knees aren’t bent, but if that’s the seat position that works for her, then…all right.
“Are you finished getting your damned words in?” Sliseag asks, and my gaze jumps back to meet his.
A knot twists every organ in my abdomen. I just lost my shit on the most temperamental breed known to dragonkind. My throat threatens to seal shut, but I don’t mutter the apology that hangs on the tip of my wounded tongue. He asked for honesty. I delivered. “Yes.”
“I relish in your anger.” A glow of excitement brightens his eyes. “I have felt your shame through your memories, and while I accept the burden of responsibility for last year’s misfortunes, I do not regret my choice—”
“Responsibility?” I question, my eyebrows hiking skyward.
Sliseag lunges forward and snaps his teeth within inches of my face.
My soul all but leaves my body.
“Silence,” he orders, withdrawing his head slowly. “It is my turn to speak.”
I nod, and at the edge of my vision, Bregh and Trina begin a series of dives overhead.
“Feel whatever you wish, but your shame is annoyingly misplaced.” A breath of steam washes over me.
“Yes, you have plenty to be embarrassed of. Your bow work is atrocious, your understanding of physics is mortifying, the only call you answer to is pain, and I know of at least two occasions when your attempts at approaching a potential mate were so awkward, I found myself embarrassed for you.”
My jaw slackens as he lists my faults.
“But you were not unworthy last year.” Sliseag lifts his head, exposing his throat.
“I simply wasn’t available to you. When half of a pair cannot open themselves to a bond, the other must wait, as you have.
” His tail flicks again as I process what he’s telling me.
“Unfortunately, that waiting has created a self-doubt I will not tolerate, and you will overcome it.”
“And if I don’t?” I ask quietly.
“I’m willing to risk my infallibility on the odds of your persevering. You have an excellent history of having done so.” He straightens to his full, intimidating height, and my neck strains as I follow the motion with my eyes. “Take your seat and let us join your squadmates.”
A high-pitched scream rends the air, and I spot a rapidly falling shape to the left of Sliseag’s head, only making out details as it comes closer.
Black leathers. Auburn curls.
Trina.
Her limbs flail in midair as she hurtles toward the ground against an orange backdrop, and air flees from my lungs.
Malek, no. She’s fallen off Bregh. And there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.
I watch in horror, completely helpless, as she disappears in the trees beyond the edge of the clearing. A sickening thud follows soon after.
“Trina!” My body lurches as I take a step toward the trees.
“Unfortunate.” Sliseag tilts his head as though listening to something. “There is nothing to be done. Her life is extinguished. She is…irrecoverable.”
“No.” I double over, bracing my hands on my knees as I struggle to breathe through the instant nausea that accompanies his declaration.
I’ve seen my share of squadmates die, but none on the cusp of getting everything we’ve worked for.
She was so fucking close. The unfairness of it clenches my heart with an iron fist.
How am I supposed to join my squadmates now?
“You take your seat,” Sliseag orders.
I force myself upright and stare into the trees as if Trina might magically walk through them.
“Choose,” he hisses.
“Choose what?” I tear my focus from the forest to look him in the eye as he peers down at me with blatant expectation. The fist squeezes tighter.
“I will not attach myself to another rider who cannot adapt to loss, so choose. Climb or wallow. Persevere or perish. As you put it earlier, bond or die.” Steam wafts from his nostrils as he flares them. “I am not the only one with agency here, but I approach the limits of my patience.”
The threat of losing him, of losing the future hovering at the edge of my fingertips, shakes me like nothing else could. I banish the fist that holds my heartbeat prisoner, mentally peeling it away, finger by finger.
I’m not unworthy. I was never unworthy. Sliseag just wasn’t ready yet.
Yes, Trina’s gone. But Rhiannon, Violet, and Ridoc will be waiting for me. That’s the only possibility permitted to exist in my mind.
Sliseag is willing to risk being wrong about me.
I won’t allow him to find out what being wrong feels like. Not on my account, at least.
“I choose you,” I say to Sliseag before mounting with a run.
It’s as natural as breathing, and within minutes, I find myself in the seat, exactly where I’ve always belonged.
Suddenly, it’s inconceivable that this day would have ended any other way, unfathomable that I would lose something so magnificent over the cost of a measly year.
“I would have repeated another year if I knew you would be waiting for me at the end of it.”
“Quit waxing poetic before you embarrass us both, and hold on.”
My hands grasp onto his pommel scales, and I grin as he heaves us into the sky.