Chapter Ten
“Sorry you didn’t get to eat anything,” Lucien remarks as the noise of the camp falls away behind us.
“It’s fine.” The words come out short. Although I’m determined to fly—to get over this fear of heights—I don’t want to do it with him.
In front of us, Ahria and Lucien’s blue dragon glide ahead. My gaze follows them while they fly out over the scrubland toward an open clearing, the lake stretching out wide beyond it.
As we get closer, a cold breeze rolls in off the water, a welcome break from the day’s blazing sun.
It should cool me, only it doesn’t—not with Talen’s flight jacket hanging heavy over my shoulders.
Not only does it trap the warmth against my skin, but it also carries a familiar scent, stirring a different kind of heat that even the breeze can’t touch.
Fanning myself, I push the feelings down and shift my focus to Lucien while he walks beside me.
He’s also wearing a black leather jacket and matching trousers, with a white linen shirt tucked into the waistband, stretched taut across the broad muscles of his chest, the bright fabric stark against his dark skin.
I have to tip my head back just to take him in. He’s a bloody wall—solid and immovable. I can’t picture his hands being able to touch his toes, but I can picture them closing around a skull. Easy.
The thought lands, and before I can stop it, the images of the Trials come rushing in—Rowan, the blood, Ezzy’s screams.
Despite the heat, a shiver rolls through me. Folding my arms across my chest, I recoil a step away from him, desperate to put space between us before the memory can settle any deeper.
“Come on.” His brows lift as his attention settles on me. “Out with it.”
“Out with what?” I turn my face away from him.
“You know what.” He steps back in closer. “I’m not taking you up in the air like this.”
I don’t look at him, but it doesn’t help. I can still feel him glaring at me—the heaviness of the question pressing in, increasing the longer I stay quiet, until it gets harder and harder to keep everything locked down and eventually, I break.
“You killed Rowan!” The words tear free as I drop my arms, breath coming too fast. “Cut his throat like... like it was nothing.”
Beside me, Lucien doesn’t even flinch. “And you killed Beth.”
Fuck him.
“I didn’t. Technically her magic backfired on her somehow—she killed herself.”
“Then technically the dragon killed Rowan,” he responds, like it’s obvious.
“He was already gone. I simply ended it, quick and clean. It was the most humane thing I could have done. Plus I saw it in your face. You were about to kill her. Not that I blame you... she fooled us all and called you down.”
I shake my head, but the argument doesn’t land the way I intend because he’s right. I was about to kill her. I would have done it. And I know, deep down, that Rowan was in pain, that by the time Lucien got to him, there wasn’t anything left to save.
My vision blurs for a second, moisture swelling behind my eyes as the guilt drops through me like a stone.
Because it’s not him I'm mad at; it's me.
I could have stopped it, if I had been more careful, maybe the ambush never would have happened.
Maybe Finn and Rowan would still be here, maybe Ezzy wouldn't have gotten hurt—
“So anyway,” he adds, “if we’re going with technically, I’d say we’re pretty even.”
Blinking back the tears before he or Ahria can see them, I glance over to find his dark eyes already on me, taking in the soot streaking my clothes and the dried blood cracking over my knees.
We stopped by the tent to grab Talen’s jacket, but I didn’t have time to wash or change, so I still look like a complete mess.
“I heard you met Dave?” A grin tugs at his mouth. “How long did you last?”
“Ten seconds.” I grumble, welcoming the change of topic as we reach the lakefront.
“Fuck, Bloom.” His head tips back with a laugh. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to be a bonded rider.”
Yeah, no shit.
My lips pull thin, a snarky comeback already there, but I bite down on the inside of my cheek and let it go.
No point making the situation with Lucien any more tense than it already is—especially when he’s the one taking me flying.
So I drag in a steady breath, letting it out slowly, and keep the conversation going.
“Are there many others?” I nod toward the two dragons ahead where they dip in and out of the lake, wings scattering water while we follow the path along its edge. “Many other recruits who are bonded here?”
“Not as many as we’d like.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw, black stubble rasping against his skin.
“We’re hoping more will bond at this year's Blood Moon... But dragons are picky little fuckers. Not only do they require compatible Threads, they also only choose people they believe are morally worthy, whatever that means.”
“I was surprised Merrin isn’t bonded, I mean considering how powerful he is.”
He huffs. “He’s what we call a Well.”
“A Well?” I arch a brow.
“Yeah, he can knot and store a shit ton of Threads, way more than anyone here. Rumour is he comes from a powerful line of sorcerers.” He peers down as we step over a small stream. “Definitely wouldn't want to get on his bad side.”
Another shiver traces down my spine, remembering how easily he muted my magic after I was caught at the border.
“So everyone here can use their Threads?” I ask. “I saw some training earlier, they looked okay but a bit... rusty. Are they all from the Citadel?”
He shakes his head. “No, it's way too bloody hard to recruit from there, never know who’s on whose side... So at the moment it's only me, Talen, Reya, Darren, and Merrin.” His elbow nudges me. “And now you. The rest are untrained Innerlanders. They learnt the basics of their Threads as kids, and usually that’s enough to deal with Outerlander run-ins.”
“Usually?”
“Yeah, well, a lot of the Outerlanders don’t know we’re on their side.
Talen’s been holding meetings, trying to build alliances, but it’s bloody slow.
Not surprising, really.” He shrugs. “For hundreds of years we’ve controlled them, suppressed them, kept them beyond the border and left them to die.
Doesn’t exactly make them eager to trust us. ”
My fists curl at my sides as I know all too well the deep rooted hatred he’s talking about. Hell, it took me months to stop seeing every Innerlander as the enemy, and that was only because I lived side by side with them.
God I hope Bren isn't getting caught up in this.
“So even without magic,” Lucien goes on. “They still fight back—ruin missions, attack patrols. And if they’ve managed to get hold of some draconite, things can get messy pretty quick.”
“So that's why there were so many recruits with injuries in the Food Tent ?”
He nods. “And they’re going to need a lot more training to be ready for what's coming.”
“And what is that?” I push. “I heard Darren talking to someone at breakfast, said borders are closing? Something about a Census?"
Hesitating, his steps slow a fraction. “We are still gathering information. There’s a briefing at the end of the week. Best if Merrin updates you then.”
His focus cuts briefly to me, and for a second, his solid, unshakeable mask slips, revealing the far more vulnerable human beneath.
God, if he’s worried about what’s coming—
“Why are you here?” I ask, tilting my head back to study him more carefully. His eyes narrow on me, confusion flickering behind them. “I mean—how did you end up joining this… rebellion? Movement? Whatever it is?”
“How long you got?” He shoves his hands into his pockets and I throw him a shrug. “Okay, I’ll give you the short version. Goldie and I have known each other since we were kids—our families are close. I always had a feeling something was going on with him, just… not this.”
Glancing back toward the camp, hazy now in the afternoon light, he takes a breath.
“After his accident, after he merged with Cal, he brought me here. It was much smaller back then. Only Magda, Merrin, Reya, Darren, and a few recruits. He showed me around, told me everything they knew and then asked if I was in or not. I’d never been a fan of the Citadel.
My older sister died in her first year of training, and I just…
swallowed it. Never questioned it. Never said a word.
” His lips pull thin. “Still, I guess I’d been sitting on that longer than I realised.
Because when Talen asked me that day—something in me gave way.
Didn’t even think twice. Just said yes.”
My forehead creases. “You were an Innerlander, training at the Citadel and you didn’t even question it? You trusted him that much... Talen? To leave everything you knew behind and follow him?”
“Oh, no, I still had questions. Just not about whether I was in.” He huffs, not quite a laugh.
“Me and Goldie see eye to eye on most things. We both want to see Serrane burn. The Citadel must fall. After that, though… The only things we argue about are Cal and the monarchy. I know it’s the way to go, but Talen fucking hates the idea. ”
“You argue about Cal?” I ask too fast, my boot catching on a rock hard enough to jolt me.
My mouth opens to ask more, but as we step into the clearing he stops short and checks his watch, the rough cut gemstone hanging around his neck swinging with the movement and catching the light.
“Shit—didn’t realise the time,” he mutters, turning toward the lake where the two dragons are still playing—or perhaps fighting. I still haven’t figured out which.
Lifting his arm, Lucien cocks his head and his blue dragon answers immediately. Peeling away from the water, she slices through the air and lands on his shoulder in one fluid motion.
“JC can’t fly for long today,” He notes, giving her a small scratch that earns a low rumble from behind her jaws. “She has to save her energy for the trip back to the Citadel. But we can do a quick flight.”
“No, I need to train with Ahria, not JC.”