Page 47 of Forcing Fate

My heart shattered.

The tiny beast whirled around, letting out a hiss. Panic surged. Horror raised gooseflesh across my skin as I struggled to breathe. Glistening white fangs flashed as it pivoted and spun, taking in all the Dragon Riders and dragonlings. Its wet wings slapped against its scales as it tried to raise them, to make itself appear larger, as if we were a threat. It completed its circuit and its terrified stare landed on me, pupils narrowing into slits.

A Wild One.

Beneath the peal of terror ringing in my ears, the crowd gasped and murmured. The hatchling’s dark, almost black, eyes flared with anger—with fear.

A dragon keening beckoned me to look up as Elispeth, the white dragon, glided down, landing in the arena. She coiled around the hatchling, glancing up to her Rider she’d left on the roof. The other Riders and Second Chosen rose, distancing themselves from the two dragons, but I was rooted in place.

My limbs wouldn’t move. My brain would not function past the fact that I had been refused.

Again.

Elispeth turned her great lavender eye on me. That eye, the size of a dinner plate, gazed into my soul. Her pupil dilated, trying to convey some emotion I couldn’t comprehend.

A tear slipped down my cheek. Elispeth nuzzled the hatchling, watching me closely. The young one cooed and peered up at her with dark, trusting eyes. Staggering pain ripped through my being. I choked, pulling in a gasping breath. Tears streaked hot trails down my face, unhindered and unrelenting.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I registered a hand resting on my shoulder, but my body refused to move to see who it was. The white dragon turned her head fully toward me, still coiled around the hatchling. She sniffed in my direction and let out a quiet keen. I shivered at the mournful cry, and she tucked her chin to her chest, huffing.

The hand on my shoulder gently pulled at me, and I pushed myself up on shaking legs. The haze of my tears blurred the world around me, and I blinked them away. Master Brann stood beside me, his face laced with pity. My weak smile wobbled, threatening to fall. He opened his mouth to speak, but I brushed past him and rushed out of the arena.

As soon as I cleared the crowd and entered the hall, I broke into a jog, hiking my dress high in my clenched fists. I knew the way by heart. The tears blinding me did nothing to falter my steps. I shot through the door and ran.

The few stragglers lingering outside the amphitheater dodged out of my path with shocked, disapproving glares. They meant nothing to me. I didn’t bother with mannerisms or apologies. They witnessed my moment of vulnerability. Could they think any less of me than to be refused twice by hatchlings?

I cut across patches of grass and wildflowers. I didn’t see where I was going, and my brain didn’t register it though my heart did. My feet pounded on the hard earth as tears streamed down my face. My lungs gasped for air but, I refused to let myself sob. I ran past the dorms, past the workshops and gardens. I ran past all that was familiar to me.

An eternity later, I tripped and splashed into water. I stopped and blinked through the tears to see a lake lapping at the sandy shore in steady waves. Heaving for breath, I pushed myself upright, watching as the waves rushed over my feet, lifting the hem of my gown and pushing it past me.

I backed out of the water and fell to my knees on the bank of the Great Northern Lake. The sun glared down at me, its harsh rays scorching my skin. My face fell into my hands as sobs wracked my body. All the disappointments and failures hit me at once, and I curled in on myself.

I had lost everything. All my hopes and dreams were shattered. Dejected. Worthless. I’d been given not one chance, but two, and I ruined it. I tried my hardest to be someone that a dragonling would want to bond with. I placed my future on a little creature—a little creature that would take me places I’d never reach on my own, that would be my friend through it all. It would have made my life worth something.

Sobs tore me apart, and I wrapped my arms across my chest, squeezing as if it would be enough to hold me together. I thought about the father I never really knew—his love protecting me from so far away. For so long, I wanted to honor his memory, take his place on the front. I had convinced myself that if he were alive, he would have been proud of me.

Tears burned my eyes. My throat ached from sobbing, but it wouldn’t stop.

For once, I surrendered. I allowed myself to feel all the hurt I bottled up and ignored. I let myself cry till there were no more tears. Then sobbed some more.

I sat on the sand, not bothering to move, when I heard distant footsteps near me.

Irritation sparked, but apathy and dejection snuffed it out. The sun began to set over the lake. There was no curfew on the night of Hatching Day, though I doubted I could have been bothered if there was.

The waves rolled, coming and going, oblivious to me and my struggles, just as the world continued on without a thought to me. No one’s life was affected by mine, and they would all go about their merry ways, regardless of mine being ripped away.

Someone dropped to the sand beside me. I didn’t bother to glance their way. I stared off, seeing nothing, feeling nothing.

I was numb, as though crying all my tears left me vacant. Void of joy, peace, anger, sadness… everything. As barren as the shells left in the amphitheater—hard, empty, and broken.

We sat there, me and whoever was beside me, as the sun descended and darkness blanketed the world. Dragons roared in the night, having their yearly fire-breathing competition. Distance muffled the crowd’s praises and applause as they cheered their favorite dragon on.

I closed my burning eyes and pulled my knees to my chest, resting my forehead against them.

Whoever was beside me didn’t move or say a word.

They were simply there.

The moon was high, and the night was deep when I braved a look to see who pitied me enough to find me.

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