Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Kieran
Ican’t bring myself to move yet.
Not when the molecules of air have turned as heavy as lead in my lungs and I’m sinking through stone. Nothing adds weight to a body faster than guilt. Shame does an equal job but guilt is a weapon of its own.
It accomplishes miracles and needs no man’s hand to wield.
Shame is certainly better than my dragon ejecting me from this overlook and watching me scream my way to a terrible death.
Or maybe it’s not. Shame is insidious and small as it carves inroads in your psyche.
You barely realize it’s damaging until you look back at yourself and see there are empty places.
By then, you can’t remember what you’ve lost, only feel the absence like phantom limbs.
Your struggle is noted. Even though you’re young, it’s no excuse to act irrational, not when the stakes are high, Mozi reminds me.
He arches his neck against the wind.
Ether take me if I have to listen to more of his lectures. He cranes his face into the wind as the first droplets of moisture slap my overheated skin. The first wave of rain brushes softly, then drives home with every passing second.
Mozi flicks his wings without looking at me but he isn’t leaving yet. He’s waiting for something, his tail flicking faster than an agitated cat, ready for me to reach the inevitable conclusion he’s already found.
I’m too slow to do it.
You don’t have to stick around and watch me. I hunch against the rain but I’m not willing to go inside yet.
He yawns, stretches, his claws digging grooves into stone. And yet it amuses me to watch you struggle. It’s the only way to ensure you grow.
I’ve done enough growing. At least, in my mind.
I’m not sure what to do, I finally admit, digging my hands into my pockets. She isn’t going to change her mind and agree. My expulsion is inevitable.
Go to the headmistress and plead your case. Tell her it’s a case of temporary insanity. You allowed your human instincts to override your logic.
The way he says it—
Human instincts. Things like desire and need are blockages to be overcome. More times than not, he’s told me how true power resides only in mastery over self. Today, I let myself be unseated.
With a huff, Mozi shifts forward and flicks out a wing to block me from the rain. I blink up at him with water stinging my eyes.
Maybe I want to be soaked.
He grimaces. Humans are little better than wet dogs when they are soaked, he clarifies. Go in from the storm, Kieran. It will only get worse and we accomplish nothing when you punish yourself.
No, I think you’d rather do it for me.
I consider it my right. He lifts a claw to nudge me in the direction of the aerie. None of the other dragons would put up with you the way I have.
Correction. I’m the one who puts up with you.
The wind batters us and brings with it the freshness of the autumn storm. A crack in the distance heralds the lightning, followed by a deep boom of thunder, causing the loose pebbles on the cliffside to jump.
Inside the aerie, none of the dragons are bothered by the storm.
The cave looks carved by a giant’s hand, the missing pieces of the mountain tossed aside.
Dragons are more solitary than many of the other mounts and those who choose to roost here overnight are spaced with enough room to ignore each other.
Mozi stiffens, his head whipping around and his lips peeling away from his teeth. She’s here.
The energy in the aerie shifts and changes.
I don’t need him to tell me which woman he meant. There’s only one who burrows under the skin this way. She travels like mist through the mind and takes up residence in the smallest spaces.
Headmistress Harbi and Morgan appear from the mouth of the entrance and as their feet hit the cave floor, my stomach drops. My entire being reaches out for her and I’ve never felt entirely as off balance as I do now.
Morgan’s hair is a flash of red in the gray light.
Harbi leads with her staff and the great roar in the distance, the rustle of wings, says her dragon is not far, blending in with the night.
Mozi looks at me, his eyes narrowed with concern and his energy spiking inside my head.
Before I have a chance to voice anything, Harbi stops in front of me, her green robe belted at her waist and buttoned up to her neck to stave off the chill.
“Mr. Ryson.” She scans me from the top of my widow’s peak to the tips of my boots. Her lip curls. “You’re in luck.”
In luck?
“Why?” I ask hollowly.
I’ve never been the man with luck, because privilege and luck have nothing to do with one another. Power is everything in this kingdom and my father is one of the most powerful and privileged men alive at the moment.
But lucky? No. I’ve never considered myself that.
Pay attention, Mozi spits.
Harbi sweeps her arm back and her robes swish. “Miss Whyte has decided to stay, so you are staying as well.”
My chest releases in a great rush. I hadn’t realized I’d been tensing so greatly until I relaxed. I get to stay. For now.
“Great news.” I force a grin.
Morgan’s head snaps up. “Wait—why would he have to leave?”
Harbi’s mouth tightens. “Mr. Ryson put his own place here on the line to vouch for you, Miss Whyte. If you had declined, he would have been expelled along with you.”
The color drains from Morgan’s face, and something flickers across her features—surprise, maybe even guilt, before her features harden into a glare. Her nose is swollen, and bruises spread out like an oil spill across her cheeks, darkening her freckles.
What in the Void happened?
She’s in worse shape than when I left her.
Fresh from a fight with a teenage dragon, I’m not in the best mood, and certainly not feeling congenial. Morgan stares me down with her chin slightly lifted as though she is utterly secure on her high ground and I’m the one floundering. I expect nothing less of her.
For some unjustifiable reason, irrational fury settles in my veins and moves my fingers for me. Who hurt her?
Whoever it is, I’ll make them pay.
“I’m sure we’re all excited for this,” Harbi says dryly.
She paces between us, an unspoken peacemaker, shrugging off our posturing like she has no clue the silent showdown is taking place.
“What changed?” I snap. “I thought you couldn’t possibly—”
Morgan draws up and Harbi clears her throat.
“Mr. Ryson, please get your new charge settled in her room. We have space three doors down from you, I’d think.” Harbi pauses.
Three doors down…
Ah, yes, the slender looking first year who’d gotten caught on the wrong end of a knife fight. Those break out occasionally. He hadn’t been strong enough to endure this place and allowed his guard to drop.
It leaves a free space for Morgan as well as pulling double duty. This will allow me to keep a better eye on her.
A small part of me soars with glee at the prospect.
She’s in. She came around, regardless of who convinced her, and now she’s mine.
It doesn’t matter how angry the stubborn set of Morgan’s jaw makes me. I stare right back without breaking eye contact.
“Absolutely,” I murmur to Harbi. “It’s my pleasure.”
“I’ve advised her to join your team so she will be on your schedule, taking the same classes that you take. Since you are the one who vouched for her, it seems only prudent to pair you off.”
Harbi might as well not be there for all it matters.
Wind and rain batter our backs and the gust steals Morgan’s hair, the rope of braid tugged by invisible strings. The stray strands around her face curl from sweat. Her eyes are pools, and if I let myself, I’ll be lost in them.
Mozi stirs behind me, raising his head and swishing his wings.
Take it easy, I say firmly.
I might say the same to you. Do you need help with her? A single gulp and I’ll be able to rid us both of these problems. It may be a much simpler solution to this entire affair.
He growls low in his chest.
I’m so tired of other people trying to control the direction of my life. And curse me if I’m going to give Mozi the satisfaction of knowing I’m rattled. Morgan, too, for that matter.
Steeling myself, I step up to her, and she hesitates before saying anything. A flush creeps up to her jawline, but she keeps her eyes on mine. She’s proven herself to me time and again. She held firm, stood her ground…
“Seems like we’re going to see a lot of each other,” I tell her in a tone rife with intention.
“Get her settled,” Harbi tells me. “Sleep. If you have any issues, figure them out.”
“Absolutely, Headmistress.”
Harbi jams her staff into the stone and the movement is echoed by another distant roar. Rather than heading into the castle, she strides toward the storm, losing herself.
Leaving us alone.
The air tightens. My fingers clench and I slide my hands behind my back to keep from reaching for Morgan.
I inhale sharply and take another stride toward her, the movement blustering and bold, but she doesn’t budge. She fixes her royal face on me in an expression somewhere between revulsion and resignation.
“Well, Fury?” And because I hate myself, because I want to see exactly what it does to me, I hold out my hand for her to take. “Shall I escort you to your new quarters?”
Victory is mine. Morgan scowls at my hand, and her lips part like she’s ready to slice me through with more of her scathing retorts. She might have if Harbi hadn’t chuckled from the aerie’s exit.
“This is going to be quite interesting,” Harbi calls back.
Mozi slips between us, his neck long and his head tilting to the side, his nostrils flaring. Morgan’s eyes widen but she doesn’t move away from him.
All this fuss for such a little thing, he purrs. She thinks you’re going to kill her. She knows she’s not safe with you. Or me.
I scoff at his assessment. Sadly, she will be safest with me. Evie will try to kill both of us at this point. When word gets out how I insisted on Morgan’s insertion here…
Evie Fortescue is the least of our troubles.
Mozi is correct. I maintain my extended arm, waiting for Morgan to react, and finally she slaps her hand against mine. A particularly strong burst of wind ruffles her, and I’m not sure if that’s the reason why she grumbles under her breath or if it’s because of me.
Mozi watches us leave and the moment we’re out of eyesight, Morgan drops my hand.
“You don’t have to hold onto me. I’m not going to run. Not this time,” she snaps.
“I put everything on the line for you. I don’t want you destroyed and if it’s in my power, you never will be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her laughter is soft. “Don’t tell me you’re growing soft feelings?”
“Trust me, it’s not out of compassion or concern. If you mess this up for me, for us, then I’ll kill you myself.”
The intensity of my gaze sends her a step in the opposite direction. Something flares in those green eyes. It’s as strong as anger but it’s not.
Fear.
Of me.
It’s the first smart reaction she’s had.
The slow burn is only starting to catch.