Chapter 27
Ever
RAIN PATTERS AGAINST THE INVISIBLE barrier of the large window as if it’s pelting a pane of glass.
Offhandedly, I wonder if the tech is programmed to mimic the sound the same way it’s set to emulate the reflective properties of glass or serve as a one-way viewpoint like now.
I step into my boot and it automatically tightens around my ankle and lower calf until it’s snug.
I rise from the chaise longue in the infirmary’s dressing room and smooth a few loose strands back into the sleek, low updo my hair has been styled into.
A light knock sounds on the door, and Healer Ramirez’s voice quickly follows. “I’m going to upload your scans, Scioness. I’ll meet you back in the room when I’m done.” She doesn’t wait for an answer before the sound of fading footsteps tells me she’s left.
I’m not surprised—the Healer has been eager to solve my little conundrum from the second I presented it to her.
She’s been attentive, straightforward, and surprisingly kind.
With her strong features, gray pixie, and warm complexion, she looks like she could be Tove’s distant relative.
Only the Healer is hundreds of years older, and decidedly not a stone-cold bitch.
I assess the state of my outfit in the mirror before I give the train one last fluff and exit the dressing room.
I selected an ice-blue bodysuit that looked warm and covers me from neck to ankle.
It came with a matching wrap made from something fluffy and soft I can’t identify.
The wrap layers across my upper chest and then drapes down behind me.
The color is a little too happy for the chilly, rainy day, but I’m not freezing my ass off, and that’s all that matters.
My new closet is filled with items I recognize as Nixy’s work, but when I asked about her and Azo, Aeson just stared at me like I had some nerve bringing them up.
I tried directing my questions to the human attendant who helped me get dressed for the day, but she whimpered anytime I tried to address her, so I gave up, not wanting to stress the poor thing out any more than she already was.
The last time I saw Azo, he was being escorted from the room right before Karis accused us of sending an “unauthorized transmission”.
I don’t know if Nixy and Azo faced any consequences for that, but I’ll have to figure that out on my own, and in a way that doesn’t create any more potential trouble for the duo.
I move quietly through the short corridor that connects the dressing area to the infirmary room we’ve taken over.
Clipped voices and low murmurs are wrapped up in a heated discussion, but I can’t make out what’s being said before I round a corner and find Aeson pacing.
The chatter comes to a direct halt the second he and his Wing see me, and it’s not hard to guess who the topic of conversation was.
Chastain, Tove, and Herm are absent from today’s adventure, and I survey the others before wandering over to one of the large archways that looks out over the back view of King’s Keep.
I don’t bother asking any questions or showing any annoyance over the conversation I’m obviously not privy to.
I’ve played this game before with all of them, and it won’t get me anywhere.
Instead, I take in the handful of dragons that are outside playing in the rain. They glide and swoop, undeterred by the occasional flash of lightning or steady roll of thunder.
The peaks that surround the keep are covered in mist and clouds, and the late-fall storm makes it sound as though the mountains themselves are grumbling some kind of ominous warning.
The whispers restart behind me, and I let my thoughts drift to my sister and the others.
Are they warm? Are they safe? Have they found any leads?
They’re only supposed to be doing recon, but plans feel more like suggestions these days, and I can’t help but worry, especially when the Tainted are involved.
“We were discussing the most recent gathering of the Conclave,” Aeson declares loudly, and I look behind me to see who he’s talking to.
Surprisingly, his blue eyes are homed in on me, but that can’t be right. I spin, trying to spot the person he’s really addressing, but there’s no one else near me. Aeson’s face morphs into an unamused scowl when I point a finger at my chest and raise my eyebrows in question.
“Yes, you,” he declares like it’s obvious.
“They’ve petitioned my father for a formal introduction, followed by an informal gathering that will facilitate them getting to know you better .
My father has granted it,” Aeson announces, his mouth pressed into a hard line and his thick arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“You knew this was coming, so what’s really got you all hot and bothered?” I wag my eyebrows at him, but he’s not amused by my attempt to lighten the mood.
“In two days, you’ll formally meet the dukes.”
I absorb the flash of anger in his stare and process the tension eddying through Ogdan and the others.
“And . . .” I press, knowing there’s more.
Aeson’s nostrils flare and his jaw tightens. “And you’ll also be introduced to their heirs, along with any other eligible drakes deemed worthy to attend.”
“There it is,” I exclaim, like some game show host who’s congratulating a winner. I lean against the wall, mirroring Aeson’s crossed arms, and ask, “So, what do we do?”
The question is casual and so is my mien, but inside I’m seeing red. Aeson warned me. It was clear the dukes were going to be a problem, but disrespecting my bond like this proves that nothing is sacred to these bastards.
“We’re working on a plan,” Ogdan offers, his gray eyes determined. His hair is still styled in battle braids, and I tell myself not to take it personally. He and the rest of his Wing still aren’t talking to me, but I haven’t been here even a full day yet.
“What if we just completed the bond?” I ask offhandedly.
Aeson freezes where he stands, and an uncomfortable silence fills the room.
Ouch.
I try to shrug it off.
“I’m just saying, they want to mess with our bond; what if they can’t? All that’s left is for us to bite each other and let our dragons decide if they’re into it, right?”
Aeson’s anger shifts to something more visceral, and I fight back a shiver as his face hardens and his eyes go flat.
“There’s a lot more left for us to do,” he argues. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve been ordered not to complete the bond until after this upcoming engagement.”
Shock steals my words. I stare at Aeson, flabbergasted. Fury hastily replaces my shock, while I flip through the implications like they’re a deck of cards. “Can they fucking do that?” I demand.
“They can.” Aeson nods, equally as furious, but I can’t tell if it’s on his behalf or mine.
Healer Ramirez comes striding back into the room, and her presence effectively kills any further discussion about the dukes and their heirs.
“Give me a second to pull everything up, and then we’ll go over what I found,” Ramirez explains, and I give her a stiff nod and re-anchor myself by the window.
Fuck.
What am I going to do?
They’re tying Aeson’s hands, but what about mine?
How can I fight them without his help?
I search for the connection that ties me to Aeson. It’s been locked in a vault and cemented over since I was brought here, but maybe it’s time to figure out how to make it work for us—or, better yet, use it against the dukes.
I’m distracted from my plotting when the seven Wing members milling about all rise from their seats or push off from wherever they were leaning and, one by one, leave the room.
It’s an illusion of privacy—since I have no doubt that Aeson will fill them in on whatever the Healer’s about to disclose—but as long as I don’t have to deal with anyone else’s emotions right now, I don’t really care.
I try to read Ramirez’s face as she transfers my scans to a large holoscreen, but her face and body language give nothing away. Aeson gestures for me to come sit with him, but I suddenly feel rooted to this spot by the window.
I can’t move, because as long as I stand right here, there’s a chance that whatever is wrong with me is fixable.
I’m not walking in a direction where a dragon mark is all I’ll ever have.
I’m not moving toward a fate that’ll feel akin to torture.
Right here, right now, I’m only half-broken, and I’ll stand here for the rest of my life if it keeps me from a worse fate.
My body is tense and leaden, my stomach a kaleidoscope of dread, and I force myself to look away from the furrowed brow of the Healer as she studies the threads of coded data scrolling across the holoscreen’s display.
I turn my head and concentrate on the dragons outside.
I spot a sapphire-blue dragon still spiraling and curling around the currents, and I can’t decide if its presence is a glimmer of hope or merely a dream that will forever be out of reach.
Aeson is suddenly there, his large frame leaning on the opposite side of the arch, his gaze steady and set on me. I don’t acknowledge him; I can’t. All I can focus on is whether the next few minutes are going to destroy the Syphons or simply become another obstacle we have to overcome.
“Okay,” the Healer chirps, drawing my attention back to her.
I rub my thumb across my forearm in search of my scars, and relief swarms me when I find them.
I didn’t wear my charm today, knowing the Healer would need me to take it off for her exam.
My clothes hide the damage covering my body, so I figured it would be fine.
Back and forth, I count the raised tallies on my arm and take in the neon-yellow outline of my body that’s glowing on the large holoscreen next to Healer Ramirez.