CHAPTER 22
Do not test me unless you’re ready for the consequences.
—Entry from the private diary of Jerris, Dragonbound
SERAE
My head was splitting in two. That Rihtish alcohol packed more of a punch than I anticipated, even with that peppery little sobering remedy. I sat at my writing table, Merria’s letter in hand, and rubbed my temples. What in the name of the Great Dragon was this?
The few letters I’d received from Merria were all nonsense about new dresses and parties she’d attended.
She never responded to the letters I sent her or inquired further about the scraps of information I did give her.
I had made it a habit to write nearly weekly, though I had lapsed lately.
Now, she wrote a letter with no less than ten questions about my life here—many centered around Eldreth.
What is your young prince like? Is he handsome?
Is he gone much leading their expeditions?
Does he ever take you with him? It didn’t feel right.
Merria must be desperate for entertainment if she was stooping so low as to write to me about me. Especially when a certain duke was hanging around as much as I suspected. Or, more concerning, my lack of useful information of late was noticed.
A small tap at the door rattled my brain like a gong. A moment later, Callagh peered in.
“It’s time, my lady.”
The frown on my face was threatening to become permanent. My afternoon lesson with Dane yesterday had brought news that my ranng was being sent on reconnaissance. I would continue training alone with Wep.
I wasn’t sure if this would be better or far, far worse. There was nothing for it. Delaying would not improve my lot in this life, so I gathered my skirt—a completely unnecessary habit from a time when the skirts I wore were voluminous burdens—and moved to the door.
Callagh stepped aside and trailed behind me. We reached the bottom of the Training Hall steps in no time. I didn’t need an escort to walk across the hall, but I knew Callagh did it as a show of support.
I steeled myself outside the door for only a second.
I had to enter the training room with my head held high, even though my stomach was churning at the idea of being in his presence again.
I am in control, I reminded myself. Never mind the feel of his lips, his perfect jaw, or that little smile that did things to my heart.
No. He may be physically perfect, but the logical part of my brain still recoiled at letting him in.
“When the head and the heart are at war, you should listen to your gullet.”
“Humans don’t have gullets.”
“Pity,” Vaya’la laughed.
I sent a few choice curses in her direction and opened the door, scanning the room.
Holy. Fucking. Muscles.
Wep was in the middle of the mat running through a dowsa that apparently required him to be shirtless.
All I could see were muscles and tanned skin with tattoos covering his back.
I couldn’t make out the details of the ink with how fast he was moving, but every muscle of his torso, arms, and back was on full display.
His pecs, his abs—dragons, did the man have an ounce of fat on him?
His arms were nothing but corded muscle, and the way he moved was power, speed, strength, and yet also grace and fluidity…
He was a force to be reckoned with, and in that moment, I lost all sense of my mental barriers.
So, yes, I was staring. Ogling, if I were honest.
The door thumped closed, stifling Callagh’s giggling.
Wep altered his lethal dance enough to glance my way, then the rest of him came to a stuttering halt.
Dragon snout and scales, I wanted him to keep going, but he turned away and began walking toward the far side of the room.
This put his full back on display, and I gasped.
He paused mid-step. His entire back was covered with dragons.
The green one in the center I recognized immediately, and not just because it was the largest. It was Vaya’la, though she was awake rather than slumbering.
The red dragon on his shoulder looked remarkably like the Inraen iconography of the Creator.
The others I had seen before on the Relaxation Room tapestries: a blue dragon across his other shoulder, a white dragon by his hip, as well as an orange and a purple.
The colors, except for Vaya’la’s, were minor accents within the black ink, but Vaya’la was full, detailed color.
A piece of it snaked over his shoulder and down his bicep, which must have been the tails I’d noticed before.
I wanted to grab him and inspect every last inch of it.
Instead, he reached the corner, bent over, and snatched up a bit of fabric.
Then, he was walking back toward me, fully clothed.
“We need to test your blessings,” he announced.
I blinked, still processing the loss of that spectacular view. “Excuse me?”
“Dane has tasked us with further testing your blessings as soon as possible. Your ranng has been given other responsibilities for the next several days.”
The reminder hit me like a weight. “Oh, right,” I managed. Him gripping me close, overflowing with pride, and whispering into my ear. “Living armor.” Fuck, he didn’t know the half of it.
“What do I tell him?” I asked Vaya’la.
“This is the one you trust, yes?”
“I don’t know.” I trusted Wep, but did I trust him with this, considering what it might mean for him, Dane, or the Riht? I’d never allowed myself to consider what would happen once they learned I was Bound. It might make things better—or far worse.
“You will know when the time is right.”
Perfect. Unhelpful as usual. I settled with, “How do we start?”
He eyed me. “We don’t know enough about manifesting multiple blessings, so we’ll test what we can.”
“Who said anything about multiple blessings?”
“Dane.”
“He’s wrong. I only know of the one.”
Vaya’la snorted.
“What’s changed in the past few months for you?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“About yourself, not about your life,” he deadpanned.
“An excellent point of clarity. Otherwise, we’d be here all day.”
“Don’t get smart—”
“So, you think I’m smart?”
Wep paused and looked me up and down. “I think you’re uniquely brilliant when you decide to apply yourself. It’s your motivation that’s lacking.”
My jaw fell open.
“Back to the point, it could be something about your body that’s changed, like feeling faster or stronger. Or, you might be pulled toward an interest you never had before, like a sudden desire to weave or fish or—I don’t know—metalwork.”
“No metalworking going on here, I promise.” I tried for a smile and failed.
“You’re not wearing your glasses anymore.”
Dragons’ balls, he noticed.
“What do you know of dragon balls? You seem rather preoccupied with this one’s—”
“Finish that sentence, and I’ll make all my dreams the kind you detest.”
“Is that punishment for me or you?” My mind shook with her laughter.
“Has your vision improved?”
I forced my focus back to him. “No.”
“You just prefer to be in, how did you call it, a constant state of befuddlement?”
I smirked. “I’m just taking the advice of my betters.”
Wep pursed his lips. Point to me. “Fine, if it’s not your vision, then we should talk about that night.”
His hands on my skin. His teeth on my neck. His length pressed against my core.
I cleared my throat and walked toward the nearest weapons rack, pretending to inspect the axes. “What night?”
He followed, and his warmth at my back beckoned me to lean into him. “The night you saved yourself from the dragori.”
Oh. That night.
“Have you summoned the armor again?”
“No,” I answered honestly. I moved on to the next rack bearing short swords. He trailed me.
“Had you done it before?”
“No.” On to the daggers.
“So, that was your first time.”
“Yes.” I rounded on him, and he stepped back. “How is this helpful?”
He scratched his jaw. His short beard was freshly trimmed down to stubble, and his copper hair was loose today. “I’m trying to stop this from being trial and error for us.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, if you haven’t figured anything out on your own, we’ll test everything. I’ll observe, and you’ll be honest with your experiences.” His stare was a challenge.
My instinct was to decline, but that would probably get me thrown before Dane to explain myself.
I had to come up with another option. I’d always been a sucker for a good experiment, and this could be exactly that.
I was aware of the ways I was changing. There was Vaya’la’s vision and overall heightened senses.
There was the work with plant life. We’d even started on minor healing.
Aside from that, my body felt stronger each day.
Part of it was physical strength. Three months training with Wep had toned my body in a way I hadn’t dreamt possible before joining the Riht, but it was more than that.
If I had to put a word to it, I had more vitality.
I wondered what else might be changing in me, and I was definitely curious about what other blessings were out there.
“This is all to be reported back to Dane?”
He nodded.
“You’ll be documenting our findings?”
“I…suppose so.”
I could make this useful—if I could keep my findings separate from Dane’s.
Sharing all I’d accomplished with Wep made my spine tingle, but the thought of Dane knowing churned my stomach.
I thought about my abandoned little brown journal, filled to the last page.
Perfect for cataloging everything I had learned over my first few months in the Riht.
“I accept.”
He sighed as if reading my mind. “I guess we need a ledger.”
“Two.”
“Why?” He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.
“I need one for myself.”
“What for?”
“Does it matter? Can I have one or not?”
He eyed me for several moments, no doubt trying to find a crack. I kept my face steady and firm. “Fine.” Point two to me.
“Great. Lead the way.”