Chapter Thirteen #3
For once, I’m actually thankful we’re heading to Dave. He won’t ask questions, won’t say anything about the disaster that was this morning. He’ll just hurl fire at my face until I pass out.
Which, yeah, isn’t great, but at least it means I don’t have to break down in front of Reya.
“I was only going to say to ignore Darren...” She lifts her hands at me in defence. “He’s got some stuff going on.”
“Then why did you seem so smug when you came in?”
I don’t look at her as we walk. I keep my attention on Ahria, following the beat of her green wings as she weaves in and out of the tent ropes alongside Reya’s purple dragon, Shanwyn. They seem like they’re having fun, but at any minute it could turn. I still haven’t worked out the dragon dynamics.
“I was just impressed you even showed up, that’s all.
” There’s no mockery or tease in her tone and when I turn, I’m surprised to see her expression matches.
“After what Merrin did—throwing you in like that... I mean a group of rebels isn’t an easy crowd to win over at the best of times.
Let alone for a cadet from the Outerlands who only just arrived. ”
For a few steps I study her, waiting for her to follow up with something barbed or sarcastic, but nothing, then as we get to the main square she turns us toward the Combat Tent.
“Where are you going? Are we not seeing Dave?” I ask, stopping outside as she lifts the canvas flap.
“No,” her lips thin as a muscle in her jaw ticks. “Your boyfriend wasn't exactly thrilled about the Dave situation. Made his feelings fucking clear before the briefing this morning. I tried to tell him it was your idea, but he was having none of it.”
I don’t quite manage to hide the surprise that flashes across my face.
That’s what they were arguing about—me?
“He’s—er, he’s not my boyfriend.” The response comes out too fast to be anything but awkward.
“Uh-huh, sure.” She rolls her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Freckles.” Pushing back the canvas she steps into the tent and the dragons quickly guide in behind her.
There it is—the snarkiness I've grown accustomed to over the past week. But I'm done with her attitude today.
“Is that why you’ve been such a jerk since I arrived?” I don’t soften the question as I push in after her. “Because you think Talen is my boyfriend? And what, you’re jealous? Lucien told me you two used to be together.”
“Please...” Turning, she rakes her gaze over me in a way that makes me regret opening my mouth.
“While I love some good dick, especially when it’s as good as Talen’s.
” She leans into the word especially enough to make it sting.
“But somewhere around year two of dating him, I realised he wasn’t actually my type.
Turns out I was always more interested in the people he’d previously fucked than I ever was in him... ”
My brows furrow, but she stays there watching me, her own brows raised, waiting for me to catch up.
“Oh.” The realisation lands a beat later. That's why Lucien said he'd never be enough for her; she’s into girls.
“Yes,” she remarks dryly. “Ohhh. So as for being a jerk? Sorry, but that part’s just me. Now can we get on with the training? I have somewhere I need to be.” Stepping onto the first mats, she shrugs off her flight jacket and throws it to the side with a soft thud.
I take a step forward but then pause. “Why bother continuing to help me though? I mean, if you're not going to be making any money...”
“Because I owe your boyfriend a few favours, and he called one in.” She doesn’t bother hiding the frustration in her voice as she stretches her arms out, readying herself.
“Plus, Blood Moon’s in less than two months and we need as many riders as we can get.
Which means you’re going to have to start making some real progress with your fear of fire...
Unless you'd rather not?” Taking a wide stance she glares at me as I hesitate at the edge of the mat.
“Or is it me you have a problem with?” Her striking gaze narrows slightly.
“You don’t like that I’m the one training you?
Maybe you’re the one who’s—what was it—jealous? ” The corner of her mouth lifts.
Fuck her.
I almost walk away. Avoid the jealousy I’m definitely trying—and failing—to hide.
But then my attention drifts past Reya to where Ahria is perched on one of the support beams, happily tearing into what I’m pretty sure is the remains of a dead mouse.
Even with blood, bright and fresh, staining her teeth, the hollow ache inside me only deepens. The desperate need to be with her. To be enough for her. And if I can’t get these fears under control, there’s no way in hell she’ll choose me at Blood Moon.
The bond won't seal, and then she’ll burn me alive.
Which should terrify me.
But the thought that really twists something inside me isn’t dying. It’s losing her.
Because if I don’t bond with Ahria…
I’m not sure I know how to live without her anymore.
Gritting my teeth, I shrug off my jacket and Reya's grin widens as I step onto the mat to join her.