Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dave’s eyes never leave mine as I pull Ezzy a little closer. He seems content enough sitting on my bed, almost harmless, but I know better. Too many memories of our previous encounters sitting far too close to the surface.
“I, uh, I don’t think it works like that…” I tell her, watching his nostrils flare as he sniffs through my blankets, my pillow, every inch of my bed like it belongs to him. “You can’t just take someone else’s dragon.”
“But he’s red,” she stammers. “Neeve was dreaming of a red dragon… and now he’s here and she’s still up there. Waiting.”
The words hit like a punch, knocking the air from my lungs. Oh god, she doesn't know. She doesn't know Neeve never made it—
“Bloom, we need to go!” Ezzy and I both jump as Lucien pulls back the canvas and sticks his head inside.
“Uh…” I hesitate as my gaze flicks between them.
“Go, please,” Ezzy insists quietly. “I actually really need to be alone right now.”
“Are you sure?” I want to stay, to tell her Ahria left me, that Neeve’s not coming back, but she looks like she’s still caught in a trance and, hell, maybe I am too.
She nods and turns back to Dave, who has now found Reya’s food stash and is happily tearing into a strip of dried beef she obviously hadn’t hidden well enough, so before he decides to start hunting for more, I grab my pack, shove in a few clothes on top of the journals, and follow Lucien outside.
“Talen and I will be back in about an hour,” Lucien's tone is flat as I slide off JC and drop the last foot into the empty campsite. He doesn’t offer me a hand, doesn’t even look at me properly. “We need to meet with some people about the evac tomorrow, so just make yourself at home until then.”
My pulse continues to pound against my temples, but my stomach gives one last churn and settles enough for me to look around the dark space. Bare scrubland stretches out on every side, broken only by a few trees, two tents, and a small cooking setup over the remains of an old fire.
“What is this place?”
“The Moorsend outpost,” he replies, not bothering to hide the frustration laced through his voice. “We use it as a base.”
His eyes narrow on mine, so I look away before he can say whatever else is sitting on his tongue, dragging my gaze up toward the sky instead.
Twenty-four hours. That’s how long Magda says it can take for the bond to seal. I just need to stay here, keep calm and wait for Ahria to come back. I already lost my shit once, and I can’t risk doing it again.
But still, waiting feels wrong. She’s out there somewhere, and every second I spend here trying not to break even further apart over Neeve is another second she could decide I’m not worth coming back for.
“Take the bigger one.” Lucien mutters and I glance back over at him as he tilts his head toward the tents. “I assume you'll be bunking with Goldie?”
Heat climbs my cheeks as I nod and his eyes roll in response, but he catches and corrects himself quickly.
“Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck, and only now do I notice how tired his eyes look.
“I don’t mean to be short. I’m happy to have you here.
New recruits should experience this stuff early, and get trained up properly.
” Dropping his hand, he starts turning the rough-cut gemstone at his neck.
“And I’ve seen what you can do with your Threads.
Once your bond seals, you’ll be an incredible asset.
I’m just not sure tonight is the best idea Talen’s ever had.
The evac tomorrow is important, and things are already tense. ”
“It’s fine, I get it.” Shifting my weight, I try to shake off the tension racing through me, but I can't seem to stay still and my hands keep fidgeting at my sides. “But if the evac matters that much, at least give me something useful to do while I wait.”
Lucien blinks at me like I’m crazy. “You need to rest, Bloom.”
I huff a laugh. “The last thing I want to do right now is rest! My bond isn't even sealed, I could still die and you want me to just wait and rest? No, give me something to do. Come on Luc.”
A muscle stiffens in his cheek and he doesn’t correct me, which only makes my stomach twist harder because fuck, even he isn’t sure this bond will take. Instead, he steps forward and rests a hand on my shoulder, my knees almost buckling under the sheer weight of him.
“Look, you’re probably still in shock. And that Vega juice is intense shit.
It’ll take you a while to come down from it, let alone think clearly, and until then, I’m not stupid enough to give you anything important to do.
” Lifting his hand, he taps his foot against the ground.
“But there’s a natural spring under here, so the water runs hot.
Go take advantage of being away from the chaos of the camp.
Have a long bath. And if sleep won’t come, there’s usually a herbal broth in the pot over the fire that knocks me right out. ”
Fingers twitching at my side, I force him a small smile, but I know a bath isn’t going to touch the edges of this. Still, it’s not his fault I’m here and he already seems stressed enough without me adding to it, so I don’t push. Lucien smiles back, a real one this time, then turns to head off.
“Oh, and Bloom,” he calls back as he swings himself up onto JC’s back.
A low rumble rolls through her as he settles into place, blue scales shifting beneath his weight.
“Stay in the tent, okay? There won’t be any Veils up until we get back, and when we return, it’s best to stay out of Cal’s way, give Talen thirty minutes or so to reset.
” Backlit by moonlight, Lucien's face is mostly in shadow, but I catch the tension in his jaw. “Trust me,” he adds. “I’ve learnt the hard way.”
Before I can ask what that even means, JC’s claws dig into the ground. Her muscles bunch, wings snapping wide, and then she launches into the night sky. Leaving me standing in the empty moonlit campsite in silence.
No wind. No crickets. Nothing but the loud drumming behind my ribs that refuses to settle.
Glancing up, I find the moon lower now, silver again, hanging over a world that’s gone eerily still. Like the past few hours never even happened.
A chill runs through me, and before my thoughts can turn, I head for the larger tent and slip inside.
At first, I can’t see a thing. Fumbling through the dark, I search until my fingers find a lantern, and once the flame catches, I drop onto the bed with a soft creak and look around.
It’s not as nice as Talen’s tent back at camp, but it’s better than anything I’ve slept in for the past nine weeks. The bed is large and sits beneath heavy wool blankets and a sheepskin throw, with a tin bath tucked at the base. It’s tiny, but with my knees bent, I’m pretty sure I could fit.
The thought of hot water makes the frosty air more biting, like my body only just remembers it’s autumn.
So with a shiver, I push up and turn the bath handle.
It gives with a rusty squeak, but for a moment nothing happens.
Long enough that I almost give up, but then something gurgles deep in the pipe, and hot spring water starts pouring into the tin.
Steam slowly starts to fill the tent while I strip off my clothes. The tub is so small it doesn't take long to fill, and by the time the last piece of fabric hits the floor, I’m already stepping in.
The water barely reaches my breasts, my knees tucked tight against my body, and although the heat should be soothing, my skin won’t let it in.
The rhythm in my chest keeps ticking too fast and every muscle stays drawn tight, like it's still bracing for Neeve's scream, for Ahria's bond to snap in half.
There’s an overflow pipe, though, so I keep the tap running slightly. Not only does it stop the water from getting cold, but also the sound of the steady trickle helps drown out all my unwanted thoughts before they can flood in.
I'm not sure how long I stay there, but Lucien's right, the Vega juice lingers. Now that I'm alone, it's like I'm caught in a trance and time starts to blur. One minute stretches into the next until they all smear together.
By the time I finally climb out, my skin has wrinkled and the tent is so thick with steam I can barely see the bed on the other side.
Icy air kisses my damp skin, and before the cold can sink back into my bones, I grab a towel and dry off, then pull on my nightdress, followed by the oversized woolly sweater Magda knitted me and tug on a pair of socks.
Warm again, I’m just about to slip beneath the blankets when a loud thud breaks the silence outside, followed by the clatter of metal hitting the ground and Lucien cursing under his breath.
Frowning, I pull back the canvas with shaky hands and peer out. Across the camp, I catch Lucien just as he stumbles into his tent with the teapot from the firepit clasped in his hands.
Damn. The herbal broth. I meant to grab some. No way I’m getting any sleep now.
Fingers curled in the canvas, I wait, hoping for another thud. For Talen, or Ahria, to return. But when the last of the hot bath steam slips out and the cold starts creeping in to replace it, I drop the canvas and slide under the covers.
Restless, I lie there for another hour, maybe more, but despite the heavy blankets, I can't seem to get warm. My breath comes short and uneven, misting in the air trapped beneath the covers, and every time the flap shifts or the wood creaks, my pulse kicks all over again.
I think about grabbing the notepad Talen gave me, about forcing the words out like I did before, but this is too recent, too raw, and every time my eyes close, Neeve's body, peaceful between the stones, flashes before me. So instead, I reach for my mum’s journal—the final one she wrote, and the only one I managed to bring with me from the Citadel.
With everything going on, I haven’t read it since, but the words are just as familiar.