Page 51 of Tempest Blazing (The Dragonne Library #3)

Each word landed like a physical blow, but I kept my chin up, my gaze fixed on some point beyond the platform. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Therefore," Silvius said, his voice ringing with finality, "Tempest Whittaker has not proven herself worthy of the dragon bond she claims to possess."

The crowd gasped, but the words that cut deepest came from Silvius himself, delivered with cold authority that had shaped Guild law for centuries.

"The Council will convene to determine the appropriate course of action regarding this... irregular bonding. The Guild has both the authority and the responsibility to sever bonds that threaten the stability of our institution."

Sever the bond.

Terror clawed up my throat. Not just failure—obliteration. They wanted to tear away the most sacred thing in my life, to rip apart the connection that had made me whole.

But underneath the fear, something else stirred. Something that had been building through months of condescension, dismissal, and barely veiled hostility. Something that had crystallized the moment Kane chose his father's approval over everything we'd shared.

Rage.

Pure, incandescent fury that burned away the hollow ache and left something harder in its place. They thought they could break me? They thought I'd stand here and let them destroy the bond that had saved my life?

Fuck that.

I took a step forward, my voice cutting through the arena's stunned silence before I could second-guess myself.

"You want to sever my bond?" The words rang out clear and strong, carrying farther than they should have. "Try it."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Silvius's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from satisfaction to something colder, more dangerous.

"I am Tempest Whittaker," I continued, my voice gaining strength with every word. "First human Dragon Rider. Bonded to Thalon of the Divine Flame and Shadow Fire. And I don't recognize your authority to tear apart something the dragons themselves have sanctified."

The platform trembled beneath my feet—not from fear, but from power. My core magic responded to the challenge, golden fire spiraling up my arms in defiant display. Let them see what they were trying to destroy.

"You call my bond irregular?" I laughed, and there was nothing pleasant in the sound. "You call it a threat? Good. Because maybe it's time someone threatened the institution that thinks it can decide who's worthy of love."

The air above me split.

Thalon came diving fast and decisive, slamming into the platform hard enough to fracture the stone beneath his claws—directly between Silvius and me.

Flame danced along his spine, purple and gold fire that cast wild shadows across his obsidian scales.

Heat rolled off him in waves. Silvius took an involuntary step backward.

Thalon didn't look at me. Not yet. His molten amber eyes fixed on Silvius with an intensity that made the air crackle. His massive head lowered until he was eye-level with the Lord Protector, and when he spoke, his voice rolled through every mind in the arena like thunder:

"You will not."

Two words. More threat than any roar. This wasn't a request or a negotiation. This was a dragon—an ancient, powerful being—declaring that some things were beyond the Guild's reach.

Only then did Thalon turn to me, his expression shifting from dangerous challenge to something infinitely warmer.

He came to me without hesitation, his massive form cutting through the stunned silence like a force of nature.

When he stopped, close enough that heat rolled off him and made my skin flush, close enough that I could see my reflection in his molten amber eyes.

No bow. No roar of triumph. Just the unmistakable declaration that his choice had never been in question.

The bond between us flared to life—not just connection, but fusion. His power merged with mine, golden fire meeting shadow flame in a display that lit up the entire arena. For a moment, we weren't human and dragon. We were something new, something the Guild had never seen before.

Something they couldn't control.

The truth settled in my chest like a stone. They could try to break what Thalon and I had built. They had the legal authority, the magical knowledge, the institutional power to tear apart the most sacred thing in my life.

But they'd have to go through both of us to do it. And I was done being afraid of what that might cost.

The hollow ache spread through my entire body. Three months of struggle, of growth, of fighting for my place in this world—and it was ending here. Not with glory or triumph, but with clinical dismissal and the threat of having my soul torn apart.

No. Not ending. Beginning.

I'd spent too long trying to prove I belonged in their world. Maybe it was time to build my own.

I stayed standing through sheer force of will, my hands clenched at my sides to hide their trembling. Whatever happened next, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me fall.

But then the air shifted.

Subtle at first—a heaviness that pressed against my skin, heat that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. The magical wards surrounding the arena began to hum, a low vibration I felt in my bones.

The crowd stirred uneasily, heads turning skyward as shadows began to sweep across the arena floor. Not the lazy circles of dragons observing from a distance, but purposeful shapes diving with clear intent.

The first dragon hit the ground hard. Dust plumed upward, stone fragments skittered across the arena floor. Then another. And another.

They descended in formation—not casual, but deliberate. Coordinated. Their wings created a thunderous symphony as they landed among the candidates, each step weighted with ancient authority.

Absolute silence. Even Silvius had gone still on the platform, his expression shifting from satisfaction to something approaching alarm.

From the largest dragon—Moriyana, her red scales gleaming like polished rubies—came a sound that rolled through the arena like distant thunder. But it wasn't just sound. It was will itself made manifest, carrying across every mind present with the weight of absolute authority:

"The trial is over. The Guild has made its judgments. Now, the dragons will make ours. We will choose our Riders... as it was in the beginning."

Complete silence. I could hear my own heartbeat thundering against my ribs. This wasn't part of the protocol. This wasn't how trials were supposed to end. This was public defiance of Guild authority, witnessed by hundreds and broadcast live to communities across the continent.

The dragons moved with purpose, each one seeking their chosen partner with the certainty of destiny. The crowd erupted into chaos—shouts of confusion, gasps of amazement, angry voices from the Guild officials' section—but the dragons paid no attention.

And that's when the real chaos began.

Silvius's voice cut through the din, sharp with authority and barely controlled rage. "This is unprecedented! The Guild does not recognize—"

Moriyana's massive head swung toward him, her ancient eyes blazing with power that made the air shimmer. When she spoke, her voice carried the weight of centuries:

"The Guild recognizes what we allow it to recognize. You have forgotten your place, Lord Protector. The dragons do not serve the Guild. The Guild serves the dragons."

The platform beneath Silvius's feet cracked. Literally cracked, stone fracturing under the pressure of Moriyana's displeasure. He stumbled backward, his face going pale.

"This is—this is rebellion!" he sputtered, but his voice had lost its commanding edge.

"This is correction," Moriyana replied calmly. "The dragons have watched. We have seen how the Guild treats those we choose. How you twist our sacred bonds into tools of political control. No more."

Around the arena, the other Guild officials were on their feet, some shouting orders, others backing away from the dragons now positioned throughout the space. But their authority meant nothing here. Not when faced with beings who had shaped this world long before the Guild existed.

I lifted my chin despite the ache in my ribs, despite the bruise of the Guild's verdict still fresh and raw.

Around us, the arena had descended into barely controlled chaos.

I could feel the weight of the Council's stares, speculation rippling through the crowd, outrage radiating from the Guild officials like heat from a forge.

But beside me, Thalon was solid, unshakable. His presence filled the space around us with certainty, with power that didn't need to announce itself because it simply was.

Pride swelled in my chest—pride and gratitude and love so fierce it threatened to overwhelm everything else.

But underneath was worry, sharp and cold.

This public challenge would have consequences.

The Guild wouldn't simply accept this undermining of their authority, and I didn't know what form their retaliation might take.

As if sensing my thoughts, Thalon's wing brushed against my shoulder—gentle despite his massive size, a silent promise that resonated through our bond: Whatever they do, they will not break us.

The other dragons were moving now, one after another, making their own choices with deliberate certainty.

Some landed before the expected candidates—the high scorers, the ones with prestigious bloodlines and political connections.

But others stopped before applicants no one had thought had a chance.

Gasps rippled through the crowd like waves. Someone shouted a name in disbelief. Another voice sobbed with relief so profound it cut through the general din.

But as I watched the process unfold, cold realization settled in my stomach. There were only twenty dragons. Maybe twenty-one if the rumors about a late arrival were true. And there had to be at least sixty applicants standing in that field.

My eyes found Mason first, still standing rigid among the candidates, his jaw tight with concentration.

Then Draven, whose usual cocky smirk had been replaced by something rawer, more vulnerable.

And Raze—gods, Raze looked like he was barely breathing, his hands clenched at his sides as he watched dragon after dragon make their choices.

What if they weren't chosen? What if this moment that had changed everything for me became the moment that shattered the dreams of the people I cared about most?

The dragons weren't just choosing riders—they were rejecting the Guild's authority. But they were also deciding who would gain unimaginable power, and who would be left behind.

And in the Guild officials' section, I could see Silvius rallying his supporters, his face twisted with rage and humiliation. He was already planning his counterstrike. Already calculating how to regain control.

The conflict between the dragons and the Guild had just begun.

And I was standing at the center of it.