Page 135 of Destined Dawn

I flick my gaze up to the academy and more dark memories flood my mind. Newer, fresher ones. Those people fighting up there, they aren’t my friends. They despise me. They treated me like dirt. They abused and bullied and hurt me. Over and over again.

And now this is my chance. My chance to make them pay.

Gwenhwyfar loops up into the air, deftly missing the weapons that fly towards her. Her breast rumbles with fire and she swoops down again.

This time towards the academy.

I am going to burn it too.

I lift my hand.

Rhi.

It’s a voice from far away. Faint. Muffled. Fighting to be heard.

Rhianna!

It’s not one voice. It’s five.

My mates. My men. I feel them through the bond. Something bright and good. Something I want to protect and cherish. Not something I want to destroy. Not something I want to harm.

I jolt. The anger melts away, as something warmer, something brighter rears up instead.

But the crimson magic has a stranglehold on me and it won’t be so easily suppressed this time. It battles to regain its grip, fights to control me.

“No!” I yell as I struggle against it, struggle to hear those voices, to feel the bond. “No!” I scream and try to push it back down, down into the pit of my gut. I tug on Gwenhwyfar’s scales as she hurtles towards the mansion. “No, Gwenhwyfar, don’t!”

She ignores me. Her own rage deafening her to my pleas.

I press my hands to her scales and try to reach her with my magic, my lighter magic that’s battling to keep the crimson away. The dark memories swirl in my head, trying to drag me down into hate and revenge, but I focus on the good. On my aunt. On Pip. On Azlan and Stone, Tristan and Spencer, Renzo. I focus on them all and gradually the light dominates inside me, submerging the dark, and I battle with the dragon, yanking her upwards away from all those people.

“No, Gwenhwyfar,” I say, resting my face against her burning-hot scales and stroking my palm down her neck. “I know it hurts. I know it hurts so much. But this will bring you no relief. No comfort. Trust me. Trust me.”

Gradually as I whisper to her, her rage cools and with it her scales, her heartbeat slowing and her body skimming the current up here in the sky.

I’m so focused on consoling her, on calming the situation, I don’t see the cannonball.

I don’t see it until it’s too late. I don’t see it until it’s driving right at us. Gwenhwyfar jerks to the side, swerving to miss it. The movement is so sudden, so violent, I’m jolted from my seat and thrown loose into the sky.

And then I’m falling.

51

Rhi

I tumble through the sky,spinning around and around like the green dragon earlier, the ground hurtling far too quickly towards me.

I’m going to die. Just like that dragon. If I hit the ground, I die.

I’m not ready to die. Not yet. Not like this. If I die, I’m dying in the arms of my fated mates. Not on the ground in some field far from everyone.

I scrabble with my magic, attempting to save myself.

But what can I do? I can’t grow wings. I’m too low for a parachute. And no magical has ever been able to make themselves fly. The only thing I can do is to slow my descent and cushion the blow. Despite how dizzy I am, my emotions spinning along with my body, I find a way, focusing all my magic and all my attention.

The ground still comes, hard towards me, but slower now, a little slower, and when I hit, though it hurts – it hurts a fucking a lot – I’m still here, a pile of flesh and bones, still breathing, heart still pumping, brain still thinking. I’m not so sure about my body though. Isitstill working? I wiggle a toe and then a finger and then I run through my body, each limb, each part of my torso, for signs of damage.

My arm doesn’t feel right. It’s bent behind me at a strange angle and when I move it, pain screeches through my entire body.