Chapter Three #2
“She said she will drop me?”
Lyra’s Threads surge, straining against my hold, but I clench my jaw and push back firmer, softening her rising anxiety.
Shit, did I say that out loud?
“Look,” I drag in a deep breath, fighting back the need to place my arms around her.
“Ahria will bond with you. Your Threads are compatible because of your mum, she just needs time. Dragons are…” I nearly say stubborn, emotionally unavailable creatures that know how to hold a grudge, but I swallow it.
“...not that fond of humans since the Treaty, but once they do form an attachment, it can be challenging for them to let it go.”
“So what,” Lyra whispers, voice breaking. “She hates me because I’m like a bad backup plan? A worse version of my mum?”
Heartbreak flashes across Lyra’s face—unguarded, raw—and, god, it cuts me deep. My magic’s already stretched goddamn thin, control riding a knife’s edge, and before I can think better of it, I step toward her, hand lifting on instinct—
Jerking back, I stop myself.
Fuck.
“No,” I reply, forcing my hand back to my side, fingers curling into a fist like I can trap the impulse there—like I’m not starving to hold her.
“No, she doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t know you yet.
She just needs to see the real you. The one I see.
” I hold Lyra’s gaze, long enough to make sure she understands I mean it.
Then I turn to Ahria, and whatever warmth was there seals shut, my voice cools with it.
“And she would be a fool not to. She’s still young, but compatible Threads are rare. And so if she doesn’t bond, she will—”
“Die,” Lyra finishes, the word settling heavy between us.
“Internal Resonance Failure, that’s what Brian’s book called it.
” Her throat works as she shifts her focus to Ahria.
“They can’t release their Threads without a bonded rider.
And so if they don’t… Their magic just keeps building. Until it tears them apart.”
Ahria keeps her head turned, as if she isn’t listening. As if she doesn’t care. But she does. She knows it’s true.
“Right,” I confirm, shooting a stern look toward the moody dragon. “And the Blood Moon Ceremony is in less than nine weeks, so we don’t have time to waste. The more time you and Ahria spend together before then, the more likely the bond will seal.”
“Blood Moon Ceremony?”
“It's the only time dragons can seal their side of the bond. It’s short, only a few hours, but it’s really intense. You go into the mountains, drink this foul fruit, and it strips you down. Puts your Threads in a state where the dragon sees who you really are. Then you either bond… or you don’t.”
“And will you tell her what happens if she does not?” Cal snipes, taking advantage of how fucking strained my control is getting.
“Yes, well, I don’t think that’s helpful information right now. Do you?” I hiss, clamping down firmly and forcing him back.
“Here…” Exhaling, I hold my leather jacket out to Lyra.
“I’m the only one who can manage your emotions, so it would be best for me to join you for your first flight.
But I have to be back at the Citadel by morning, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.
” I run a hand over the back of my neck. “So it has to be now.”
Her brows lift like I’ve lost my mind—but still, it’s there, under the disbelief. I see it, feel it. She wants this, wants Ahria, the bond. And the fear of losing a dragon? That runs deeper than anything else.
Lyra's attention shifts past me to Ahria, who’s continuing to do a terrible job of pretending we aren’t here.
Following her gaze, I catch the impatient flick of Ahria’s tail as a cool breeze brushes past us from the lake. It catches Lyra’s red curls, slipping a few strands free and dragging them across her face, and luckily, the urge to tuck them back doesn’t last long before she does it herself.
“Okay,” she agrees, turning back to face me. “Okay. But I’m not doing this for you. This doesn’t change anything between us. I’m doing it for her.”
I nod once and keep my hand outstretched, offering her my jacket as I ease that frantic edge in her emotions back down again. Lyra hesitates, watches me like she’s waiting for the catch, but after a beat, she steps forward and takes it.
“You don’t need it?” she asks, shrugging it on.
“No, I don’t—”
Fuck.
I’m fine when she first slips into it. Mostly. But then she pulls her red hair free from the collar, and the leather settles properly over her shoulders, a little too big, unmistakably mine.
The sight of her in my clothes spikes my pulse in a way that feels dangerously close to losing control, like I’ve handed her something far more intimate than leather and warmth.
Cal shifts at the back of my mind, amused.
I shut him down.
I’m already burning too much magic keeping her steady, keeping myself steady, and my focus is stretched thin enough without him.
“I, uh, don’t usually ride that much anymore.” I finish, shifting my focus somewhere safer. “And you’ve probably noticed I run a little hot. Another trait from Cal.”
“I still object,” Ahria’s tail flicks again, heat rolling off her scales as I move toward her.
“Yeah well, you object a lot,” I reply evenly. “And do I need to remind you of the deal you already made with Cal?”
Another puff of smoke billows from her nose as she narrows her violet eyes on me, but she knows I'm right and lowers a wing so I can climb up.
Swinging into place, I settle just behind the rise of her neck. Below, Lyra hesitates.
“Come on.” I slide down slightly, my leather trousers dragging over hot scales with a dry scrape, and extend my hand out toward her.
Watching her glance between me and the dragon below, I start to worry she’s going to walk away, but then it settles, and with a heavy exhale, she reaches up and curls her fingers around mine.
She’s strong enough to climb up by herself, but she’s never flown, so I use the momentum to guide her into the shallow dip behind Ahria’s shoulders, directly in front of me.
Too close.
Close enough that I can feel the tension in her spine. Close enough that when I breathe in, the sweet, sharp citrus scent floods through me, mixed with something softer beneath it, something I don’t trust myself to name. Something unmistakably her.
My muscles tense as want tears through me, fast and reckless. I shift back a fraction, hoping she doesn’t feel the heat climbing under my skin.
What the hell is wrong with me? God I need to focus. I need to get through this without giving her more reasons to hate me.