Page 39

Damien didn’t head toward the Night Hall. Instead, he kept walking, guiding me toward the golden spiral stairs that led to the Summer dorms.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“My room, just for a moment. The halls are warmer than your dungeon of a corridor.”

Stepping beneath the sun emblem, the Summer halls were bathed in light.

Paintings of suns adorned the stone walls, and the air felt warmer here, tinged with the scent of citrus that lingered in the dusty corridors.

Shadowless stone floors echoed under my quiet steps, while the wards hummed as we neared his room, buzzing like electrified gnats around the wooden frame.

Damien waved a hand, and the door clicked open.

His room was twice the size of mine and Malachi’s, with a queen bed in the center, its black duvet stark against the pale stone.

A large armoire stood against one wall, and shelves filled with books stretched from floor to ceiling.

Shards of glass—blue, sea green, and others—were scattered across his desk, catching the light in fragments.

“Glass?” I asked.

Damien picked up a dark shard and twirled it between his fingers. “I’ve been practicing projection with sea glass from the South. This one’s from my bedroom back home, and this one,” he nodded toward another, “was from my dorm at boarding school.”

I watched him as if studying a puzzle I might one day solve. “You can see through glass, like a portal?”

He clicked his tongue in amusement. “As Malachi can hear through the wind, I can use glass as a one-way mirror.” He rummaged through the armoire and pulled out a three-inch shard of broken glass.

It looked like it had once been part of a compact mirror.

“I stole this from Bridger’s room. I thought you might like it.

I assume it’s from North Colindale, and I know you miss home. ”

To me, it looked like any other handheld mirror. “What am I supposed to see?”

“Come closer and look into it. I’ll try to project what I see into your mind.”

I held the shattered mirror gently, careful not to cut myself or further fragment the glass.

Wild emerald eyes stared back at me, mimicking my own, but they seemed sharper—more cunning.

The streak of white in my bangs and lashes appeared brighter, more striking.

Then frost spread across the mirror’s surface, and the reflection changed.

No longer were those my eyes staring back, but slivered hazel ones.

A house on a hill, with a frozen lake stretching before it. North Colindale. My home.

The bitter cold was only… bitter, tainted with Bridger and Callum’s greedy, cold hands. I stepped back, and Damien had seen it all, reliving that moment.

Then I was Bridger’s eyes, which only lasted a second, but a bloodied, pale me lay half naked on the frozen trails. A wolf carried shreds of my fabric in its snarling mouth.

“I should have killed him that day during combat.”

That sword felt heavier on my spine. “I have healed. ”

“I haven’t, not when he still walks. I see his mind.” Damien shuddered. “I see it from his eyes and live through it. He does it on purpose… to torture me.”

“Bridger needed revenge and got Callum to do his dirty work. He needed to feel strong, and I will never allow him to hurt me again.” I swallowed my whisper. “And maybe I needed to feel it not to be so weak.”

He cupped my jaw. I felt him in my mind, resting along the childhood memories as if each chapter of my life was immersing him further and distracting himself from his restless one—as if I were another book on his shelf.

No breath escaped me as his forehead rested against mine. “Just say the word, and I’ll keep my distance. Tell me to stay away, and I will, Severyn. I know what Callum said wasn’t true.”

I couldn’t fix what was broken, but I could mend. I could piece him back together, one fragment at a time, from whatever darkness haunted his past. I could be the silent wave that carried him to shore.

“Stay,” I whispered, releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, the taste of ash still lingering on my tongue from the battle.

His fingers curled gently around my ribs, and I leaned into him, grateful for his steady presence.

His face was a mask of blankness, but his eyes softened—unaware that my world was crumbling in silent flames.

I could feel myself falling for Damien.

His lips brushed the curve of my neck, nuzzling the delicate glass pendant he had given me. “I’ll catch you,” he murmured to the thought, his lips warm against my skin.

We spent the following few afternoons with Naraic and Emerich practicing for the Skyfall race in three short days.

A dozen other riders, mostly second-years, had the same idea, but Malachi and Astoria flew through the obstacles with flawless precision.

Rings of light cut through the night sky, swirled smoke trailing behind.

Distant thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed through the wind-whipped trees.

Every rider was using their quell to unsettle the others.

I hoisted myself onto Naraic, and he shot into the air, Malachi retreating with the wind.

“Astoria won Skyfall with your mother two years in a row,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips, her wyvern just a wing’s length ahead.

“Dragons are forbidden to speak of their past riders, but your mother wrote back. Isn’t that incredible? ”

A wave of warmth flooded through me. My own mother hadn’t written back to me.

But I had lied in my letters, speaking of the black-horned griffin I had bonded with, unknowingly describing Myla’s hatchling instead.

I knew my lie would shatter in three weeks, but I clung to the story of the girl thriving in the Winter sector.

“What else did she say?” I asked, forcing a grin.

“I told her we’re friends, and we are both competing in the Skyfall race.”

I gaped. “You told her I was competing in the race?”

“Yes, should I not have?”

Naraic lunged toward a hoop, circling as Malachi followed suit. “I told her I bonded with a griffin. She’ll think I’m mad!”

Astoria cut in front of me, and Malachi reached into her leather pocket and pulled out an envelope. The same ones we had at home. “Read it.”

I grabbed the letter, unfolding it and nearly falling off Naraic as I stuffed it inside my dagger’s sheath. “I will later.”

“I want it back. ”

“Fine.” I guided Naraic down, lowering to the fields. I pulled the letter out, and each swirl of black ink made my stomach sink. Her writing was slanted, with blotches of ink stains in parts where she hovered her quill over longer.

Dear Malachi Herring,

Astoria was a wonderful wyvern. I bonded with her by the volcano near the end of the Summer border.

I remember that day like it was yesterday.

She was just an egg, but I knew she was mine.

I got a few burns and nearly lost all feeling in my fingers for three years from the volcanic ash.

I hope she didn’t give you a hard time during your bond. She can be feisty.

I always thought Severyn would claim her—I am glad you two became friends. Riders are for life… hold onto that.

Astoria is powerful and drawn to those who wield such strength. I am honored she chose you. We won Skyfall during our first year… something to keep in mind.

All the best, Fallon Blanche

I folded the letter in half and handed it back to her. “Did she give you a hard time during bonding?”

“Yes. She made it clear that I was not her first choice. I will never be you, Severyn. Your mother’s blood was stronger, and you will follow her path.

Please write back to her and tell her the truth.

Everyone here fears what their parents will think, but they do not control their destiny.

Astoria chose me because you were already chosen. ”

We knew you were coming.

I never thought Malachi could be jealous. I blinked and silence fell between us .

Once a mask of unnerved coldness, her face brightened as I wrapped my arms around her. “Astoria chose right.”

Riders are for life. Was that always the truth? When Mother was at home in a world that did not answer to her.

Malachi pulled away. “A few of us are meeting at the docks for drinks tonight. Bring Damien along.”

“Who’s all coming?”

Her eyes glittered. “A few Serpents and those participating in Skyfall.”

“Serpents?”

She flicked a wave of blonde hair over her shoulder, the ends damp from the sputtering rain. “You’ll have to find out.”

I approached Damien and Emerich near the tree line. Something on his face told me he’d listened to every word between Malachi and me. “So, are we going to the meet?” I asked.

He widened his eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said, holding back a grin. “I really do try to give you privacy. Tomorrow, I will teach you more about mind shields. You’ll need the protection during the Bid.”

I leaned back on my heels. “Do I dare ask why?”

“You’re still learning to crawl. You can do more damage concealing a lie than with a sword.”

I shuddered. “Well, at least I have a sword now.”

“And you earned it.”

I showered and changed into a more traditional uniform—a black skirt that fell just above my thighs, paired with tights perfect for the rainy weather that had lingered all afternoon.

Damien, however, wore the same button-down shirt from yesterday.

As we neared the group of students, a strange impulse made me want to pull away.