Chapter Nine
RONAN
The library felt too loud.
Even in silence.
Every page I turned sounded like thunder. Every breath I drew scraped raw across my ribs. I’d spread half the lineage records of Lyoness across the floor, maps of bloodlines and lost drakens and the cryptic scraps on Veskor. Ink blurred where my fingers shook.
Not worthy. Not strong. Not helpful.
Domik had tried to help by sorting scrolls, muttering dates, sketching out speculative branches, but even he had eventually fallen silent, casting worried glances as I tore through book after book like someone drowning.
Because that’s what this was. It was drowning.
I deserved it because I’d left her there, alone on the beach.
A sound broke the air. Heavy footsteps stomped across the upper walkway, deliberate and furious. I didn’t look up. I just stood and turned to face Benedict, ready to accept it.
“Come with me,” Benedict said. “Now. She needs us to be there.”
The world tilted as I tried to make sense of the fact I was still upright and not bleeding.
“Is there some kind of trouble? What kind?” I managed.
“Enya didn’t say,” he answered, “but it was serious enough she stopped insulting me.”
I didn’t wait. Books fell from my lap as I barreled toward the doorway.
Benedict grabbed my arm before I could leap off the ledge into open air.
I froze, bracing for another reprimand, but he stepped forward, pressing our foreheads together, the ancient draken gesture of brotherhood and battle-forged trust.
“I’m still angry,” he murmured.
“I know. I’m sorry, Benedict. You know I would never hurt her.”
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and locked gazes with me. “I know. But I am still angry.”
I bowed my head.
“But I will walk back into that room beside you,” he said.
A sharp breath escaped me that was half laugh and half sob. “Thank you. What do I need to do to make it up to all of you?”
He pulled away. “I will think of something. You are not forgiven.”
I flinched, standing for a moment alone in the library as he left.
You are not forgiven.
My heart ached in my chest. I had broken us, perhaps irrevocably.
Still, I flew toward the treehouse, Benedict matching my pace.
Wind carved tears from my eyes, but I didn’t bother wiping them away.
Underneath the fear, underneath the guilt, there was something else rising: a determination to do better.
Books and parchments used to be my escape, and how I proved my worth since I’d never been the strongest or biggest draken, but things had to be put back in perspective.
Wren and the drakling would be what mattered most, now.
And I would earn back what I’d broken, through actions, and not words.
We reached the platform just as Wren screamed from the other side of the wall, and something inside me locked into place.
I would prove myself to everyone else. Even myself.