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We sat beside the fire for a few more hours. We talked about nearly everything. Well, almost everything about myself. He brushed off any of my questions about his life. I didn’t doubt what living in the shadow of his ruler brother did to him, but I imagined it wore the soul.

The healer arrived three days later.

He mended my wrist with his quell without touching the swollen joints, even smoothing over the cuts and welts. I had grown so used to the constant pain that walking without shudders felt strange.

The Winter trails were warded off, allowing me three days to rest. It seemed a fifth of the academy either broke or sprained something in their bodies during the first week. I didn’t feel bad when I saw Bridger in line, waiting to fix his nose.

I hoped they’d have to snap it again to reset it. That his screams would wake the sleeping griffins across the mountains.

Spring was warmer than expected, and thawing hardly felt like an event here.

I saw a boat along the coast, and my nerves ignited, thinking it was the Malvoria ship, but it was just a cargo boat hauling supplies.

Griffins flew overhead, strapped with heavy gear, their vicious glares making me avert my gaze quickly.

I missed warding that morning. Without my quell, Cain deemed me useless at projecting a shield or ward.

Myla sparred with me during combat, and not being placed against anyone seemed worse—it meant I wasn’t worth a fight.

I had nothing to give them. Myla, however, seemed stronger, her limbs filling out as the first week passed.

A fluffy, flightless griffin cried from a pile of leaves, its black feathers and golden eyes gleaming with life.

“Her name is Haziel,” Myla exclaimed, glancing at the lump of feathers every other second. “I’m a full-time griffin mother now.”

Myla bore two daggers sheathed against her ribs, trophies from her triumphs in the last two battles. One, a copper-stained blade from Autumn, was now mine. I also kept Damien’s dagger—not that it counted toward a win, but he’d earned enough last year to boast a small collection.

“She’s adorable. Hopefully, she grows big,” I said, flexing my fingers on my left hand. The healer mentioned I’d have full strength back within a day.

“I wonder when they’ll open the Winter trails again. It’s bullshit. We’re missing prime field training,” she said, jamming her knee into my chest and pinning my arms at my side. Her curls swayed as she hovered above my face.

That tightness returned—guilt. “I’m sure it’ll open in a few days,” I said as she dragged her body off me.

Every muscle groaned as I sat up, resting my arms on my shaking knees.

“On the plus side, you’re getting stronger.

Three more wins, and you’ll earn a sword.

I’m sure you’ll be considered for lead to claim when they choose. ”

Bridger was a third-year. These were his last few months to prove himself. I’d rather Myla claim my father’s heir than Bridger.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting private lessons. Bridger says my quell is stronger than most first-years.”

I wiped my arched brow, sliding closer to her on the grass. “Did you want to eat dinner later? Perhaps I need your powerful snow to bring my quell out.”

A wrinkle formed between her eyes. “I’m—I’m actually busy. Bridger’s taking me griffin riding. I can’t ride Haziel for at least two more seasons.”

I smiled back, though I felt the distance growing between us. “Have fun,” I said through clenched teeth.

Antonia jammed the dull end of her dagger against Alaric’s throat. “We’re not getting back together,” she hissed.

Jace pulled her off him. “Toni, relax.”

I narrowed my eyes at Myla. “The Night students scare me. ”

Myla leaned closer, kicking up a tuft of grass. “Rumor is Alaric and Antonia dated back at home. He broke up with her before they left for the academy. Seems like Alaric regrets his decision.”

“Lovers turn rivals,” I whispered. “It’s hopeless here.”

Her brows scrunched together. “Not as hopeless as rivals to lovers.”

She meant Bridger. I gazed at the clouds and hoped they’d stay as rivals. “Bridger is not worth hopelessness.”

Her face turned a deep shade of red. “He doesn’t see me as anything other than a first-year.”

“Bridger… wants to kill me,” I said. “He—”

She cut me off. “It’s not personal, Severyn.”

Rage simmered low in my gut, but Damien interrupted us, twirling a dagger before I could respond. “Mind if I steal Severyn for a bit?”

Myla shrugged once she saw my slight nod. “As long as you return her in one piece, or I’ll have my griffin peck your eyes out.”

He winked at Myla. “You’ll have her in whatever shape I see fit once she knows how to fight.”

Daisies lined the rolling green fields, and rain puddles splashed against my ankles as we walked.

Damien led me to the dragon fields and introduced me to Emerich, his spiked-horntail.

Without Cully’s stories, I’d know nothing about dragons or their breeds.

Emerich’s neck was long, nearly twice the length of Archer’s dragon, and his scales shimmered like glass algae—sea greens and blues reflecting the light across his broad body.

Over fifteen feet tall, his horned tail jutted with spikes that lined his curved spine, slashing side to side.

“He’s quite the comedian,” Damien said as we approached .

“What’s he saying?” I asked nervously, avoiding those slivered eyes watching me.

“He says your enigma is dead. But that would mean you’d have to bond with one for that to be true. Emerich thinks he’s a know-it-all because he survived three wars.”

I shuddered, believing he was right. The borders to Winter were still down. Keeping silent put Myla and dozens of Winter students at risk. But what Callum had done to me burned inside my mind, and I wasn’t ready to speak of it.

“What else is Emerich saying?”

Damien listened for a few silent beats as Emerich hummed a low vibration deep in his throat. “He says you were chosen correctly and that you should be patient. He also thinks I should hold your hand.”

Emerich made a noise that sounded like a chortle—as if the dragon found humor in Damien’s feeble attempt at flirting. “I thought we were going to spar.”

Damien leaned closer, sweeping a finger along my palm. “And… I hardly know you.”

I’d gotten my firsts over with when I turned eighteen. Most males feared Father, more so Charles. Sometimes, I regretted not waiting. If Myla could salvage lust in cruelty’s eyes, what did I have to lose?

A Summer and Winter seemed as appalling as dating a rival.

His eyes scanned the field as he softly cleared his throat. “It’s only chivalrous if I hold your hand before I have a dagger against your throat.” And in a quick maneuver, Damien pressed a blade against my spine.

I breathed three shallow breaths of crisp spring air before twisting from his grasp—face to face with his hazel eyes locked on my unmoved expression .

“Don’t let me win,” I said, unsheathing the dagger he’d given me. Our blades clanged. He was quick on his feet, dodging my every swing and landing a few blows on my shoulders.

He leaned in closer. “Not a chance.”

Winded, I asked, “Are you from a title?”

“My father’s a Summer Serpent. He’s a cruel man.”

“Aren’t all Serpents? What did Malachi mean when she mentioned boarding school?” He wrapped an arm around my backside, and something about a male’s touch sent spasms down my spine since Callum.

“How about whatever idea you’ve made about my life stays that way? I’m not the kind of man who’ll tell you his entire life within a day.”

I grinned. “So you’re allowed to ask me personal questions and hold my hand, but I can’t know more about you?” I desperately wanted to know more about Damien. Even now, after he claimed two Serpents ran in his bloodline.

He twirled the blade in the air, humor touching his eyes as he said, “Disarm me, and I’ll tell you a secret.”

I cocked a brow, reaching for the blade clutched in his grasp, but he yanked away with a false smile. “You didn’t think it would be that easy?”

I huffed. “Don’t go easy on me.”

We fought until the sunset marred the clouds, until sweat simmered against my brows.

And he countered my every stride and lunge with a subtle heave, and never once did my blood spill.

My feet tumbled together, and my spine slammed into the grass.

I seethed as cold metal pressed on my throat, and his hand tightened around my waist. I pushed him off, but he squared his hips atop mine, trapping me while he brushed a fleck of dirt off my bobbled chin with his thumb.

His cool breath hit my face. “Unfortunately, you did not win. ”

I laughed to myself as I leaned up and bit his jaw. It was not hard, just a gentle bite, but it was enough for his shoulders to tense and the blade to slide against my collarbone and hit the ground.

“I believe I just did,” I hummed.

He rolled off me, eyes on the dusted sky.

“We both know that move doesn’t count. I am a man, Severyn.

Of course, I will crumble if a beautiful woman bites me.

” I watched his eyes whirl once as a defeated breath exhaled from him.

“I was in a boarding school for six years because I told the truth. Now, the reason I shall let your mind sort that out.”

“That’s not fair .”

“Hey, you never answered my question about wanting to be your father’s heir.”

“My brother Charles would have been better suited.”

“It seems we’re both living a world within our siblings. Mine happens to be the biggest asshole on the Continent. Now, you’ll understand Archer was why I was sent away.”

I scoffed. “All the more reasons to hate him.”

He nodded, changing the topic. “I’ll walk you home. Dragon riders don’t like it when bird flyers step onto their fields.”

I laughed. “My brother warned me that I should avoid dragon riders.”

He rolled his eyes. “Your brother seems like a smart man,” he said.

I was unbonded, powerless, and without any weapons. Whoever wanted to attack me would have an easy kill.