Chapter 44 Annalise
Chapter forty-four
Annalise
“Ikeep forgetting how many recruits in Charlie Company dropped this class. I guess tossing you all on dragon back in the first month really helped thin the herd.” Lorenson laughs from the front of the classroom.
“Anyway, you’ve all read the safety protocols, yes?” she asks as if she didn’t test us on them herself.
“Good. Now, forget half of them. Dragons don’t follow manuals, and once you’re bonded, neither will you.”
Definitely not the direction I thought this was going.
“The truth is, you are here to become elite. And to be elite, you have to be able to think for yourselves: make the hard decisions quickly, and then live with the consequences."
She paces slowly, letting her words sink in. “Yesterday, the Bravo class recruits who were chosen last weekend to become riders secured their bonds. Today, I’m going to teach you about the dragons who might be willing to bond with you six months from now.”
She stops, sweeping her gaze over us, meeting every pair of eyes.
“That does not mean they will bond. Bonding is sacred. Dragons choose once in their lifetime, and they will not choose unless they find a rider whose soul aligns with theirs. When they bond, it’s for life…
yours and theirs. If your dragon dies, you die.
And when you die, you take a piece of them they can never give again.
Most of the dragons willing to bond are much older for this reason, but we do have some youngins’ who haven’t quite hit their first century, in this bonding group. ”
Instructor Lorenson flips the projections of the forty-two dragons who are considering bonding, and gives a brief description of age, personality traits observed, and any of their known triggers, so we can avoid being scorched.
“Is there a way to know which magical abilities each dragon has and what magic their rider will gain after bonding?” Oscar asks.
“No. Dragons reveal their gifts only after the bond is sealed. Until then, even the spell casters cannot discover what will emerge. Color, lineage, gender—none of it has ever shown a pattern. Each bond is its own mystery.”
He processes her answer for a heartbeat, eyes brightening with curiosity, then shoots his hand up again.
When she nods to him again, he asks, “What abilities tend to appear the most?”
“Elemental magics are by far the most common: fire resistance and control, water shaping and being able to breathe underwater for short periods of time, and then minor earth manipulations such as encouraging plant growth or triggering small tremors.
“And before you ask, some of the rarer abilities include Shadow Wielding, Aura Tracking, Illusion Weaving, and Illusion Clarity. There are others, of course, but statistically speaking, most of you will end up with something from the first group.”
A ripple of excitement moves through the class as everyone considers their potential magics.
“Now, if you’re all done with questions, we’re going to head outside so you all can walk the riding grounds and see if you feel a pull toward any of the dragons.
It’s normal at this stage to have little to no pull.
Bonds often take shape slowly over training rides and maneuver lessons.
But even the faintest spark of recognition can be a sign.
Watch their eyes, their posture, their breathing patterns…
everything we’ve drilled over the last few months. ”
A mix of nerves and excitement washes over me as we spread out across the damp field.
I’m not sure how I expected this interaction to go, but I guess I thought there would be some sort of order?
Like the dragons would be standing in lines waiting like judges on a tribunal or something, but they aren’t.
They lounge across the glen like oversized cats, some curled in the fog-damp grass, some snorting puffs of smoke into the air like they’re performing tricks, and others asleep or at least pretending to be.
One orange dragon behind me is definitely snoring while standing upright, tail twitching with each rumbling exhale.
A moss-green dragon three times the size of a horse lifts her head when I get close.
I watch her pupils dilate as she studies me, and I take slow, steady steps in her direction.
I pause when she closes the remaining distance with just a few steps—if you can call them that when she’s practically prancing.
I freeze, but she only presses her nose gently against my shoulder.
Warm breath fanning across my collarbone and the side of my face.
“Hi,” I whisper. “You are beautiful.”
Her throat vibrates, and she nuzzles her head into my hand expectantly. Tentatively, I lift my hand to the crease between her eyes, and a warm tingle cascades up my arm. It’s not a bond, not even close, but it’s tender.
The ground around us vibrates as a cobalt-blue dragon—long, lean, and clearly younger…
if you can call living over a hundred years young—bounds toward me.
Every instinct screams to run, but that would be stupid.
As he skids to a stop inches from my boots, his wings flare, his tongue flops from his mouth, and he drops his head until he’s eye-level with me, tail slashing through the grass with unrestrained enthusiasm.
Aww, he’s like a giant puppy!
“Well, someone sure is friendly,” Emily calls from the next row over.
He bumps his forehead into my chest, hard enough to nearly knock me to the ground, and emits a dragon’s version of a bark that’s far too adorable and puppy-like to feel even remotely threatening.
“Whoa, there. You’re so strong!” I laugh, steadying myself as he sniffs me from my boots to my ponytail.
His interest flares, but it’s gone in a flash as he loses focus and darts toward another group of recruits.
The green female is beside me still, and as I turn to talk to her some more, a deep growl cuts across the glen like a roll of thunder.
My blood chills, and I stiffen on instinct.
The sound comes from a massive crimson dragon near the tree line. His eyes, gold and simmering, track me with unsettling fury.
“He’s super short-tempered,” someone whispers nearby.
I’m not dumb enough to even consider approaching him, but when I go back to giving the green female attention, he slowly rises, smoke billowing from his nose as he prowls straight toward me.
Recruits and dragons alike move out of his path as his pupils contract, and his tail flicks, quick and sharp.
He circles me once, each exhale hot enough to prickle the skin on my face. For a moment, just one, his gaze meets mine. I can feel the anger radiating off him, but I’m not sure what I could have done from across the glen to stir this reaction in him.
He bares his teeth and roars in my face. Saliva flies from his mouth, hot and sharp as steam, spattering across my face and jacket. The sound rips through the glen like a living thunderclap, shaking the ground beneath my boots.
His wings snap open, and the gust of him lunging skyward nearly knocks me to my butt. The green dragon follows suit, but with an elegance I never knew a dragon could possess.
I stand frozen, heart beating too hard.
Okay. Not her. Got it.
Lorenson’s voice echoes across the now silent glen as everyone stares at me and where the dragon just was. “Pay attention to how they respond. Reactions, positive or negative, tell you more than you think.”
I exhale and wipe the spit from my face as I try to shake off the lingering tremor.
One dragon liked me. One liked everyone. And one wanted me dead.
“Did you get the text?” I ask Matt as I try to untangle my uniform pants and a sleep shirt from the laundry basket. Matt, doesn’t answer, too busy aimlessly scrolling on his phone while he’s sprawled out across my bed.
“You know,” I say, tugging another shirt free, “most people would help when they invite themselves into a friend’s room.”
Matt looks personally offended, “I am helping, can’t you see me supervising over here?”
I roll my eyes and chuck a pair of socks at his chest. “Wow. Thank you so much.”
The door opens, and Aiden steps in and freezes. His gaze flicks from me to Matt, luxuriously draped across my bed, to the socks now sliding down Matt’s shirt.
He blinks once. “Matt,” he says dryly. “Why are you in our bed?”
Matt doesn’t even flinch. He just lifts one eyebrow like he’s the victim here.
“I was just telling your lovely—wait, is it fiancée? Or wife? I keep losing track.” His shit-eating grin completely betrays the innocent tone he’s attempting.
“Boyfriend.” I correct at the same time Aiden answers, “Both.”
I shoot him an insincere glare, but he meets it with a big smile.
“Right…” Matt goes on, “Well, I was just telling Lee I’m supervising. And all good supervisors need to work from a distance so we can see the grand scope of things.”
“Uh-huh.” Aiden gives me a quick kiss before leaning over and picking up a pair of my jeans to hang up like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Plus, I’m willing to bet you don’t want me folding her unmentionables.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Aiden points and gestures for him to move without even looking at him, “Just get off my side, I don’t want to smell you on my pillow when I go to sleep tonight.”
“Oh, this is your side,” Matt echoes with a laugh. “So domestic. Tell me, Lee, how long until a little Lee is running around asking Uncle Mattey to carry her?”
Aiden’s face breaks into a stupidly proud grin while I groan.
“Shut up. Both of you. Now, did you get the text for next week or not?”
“Yes, Mom. I got the text telling us the location changed for Ghost Walking to some place called the vault.” His sarcastic voice turns somber. “Can’t say I’m surprised after yesterday.”
Aiden pauses mid-fold, brows rising. “What happened yesterday?”
I shoot Matt a glare. He knows the rules: we aren’t allowed to talk about class details with people not in our class, including Bravo walkers.
“Oh, they—”