Page 117 of House of Ashes

She looked up from the logbook, gesturing with the pen. “Clearly? Although I will say that filling out flight plans is not my idea of a pleasant—”

“Good.” Rhylan whirled around and caught me before I could creep through the eyrie doors.

He was not entirely gentle. There was no way to wriggle out of his grasp as he held me in place, pinned against the eyrie wall. He forced me to meet his eyes squarely, nostrils flared with fury.

“Is your ‘intuition’ under this?” he asked harshly, hand rising to the frost-covered scarf on my face. I gulped in deep breaths, unable to control the rapid rise and fall of my chest.

He pulled the scarf down. Took in the red weal standing out on my face, the crusted blood, the raw spots where scales had been torn away.

Rhylan closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling steam and thin whispers of sparkling black flame. His words were distorted when he spoke by the overly large fangs crowding his jaw; he was caught between the shift, half man, half dragon.

“Who did this?” His voice was flat, a thin veneer for the murder beneath it.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I needed to be calm. I needed to present this in such a way that he wouldn’t go tearing right back to the Shadowed Stars to rip Chantrelle’s head from her shoulders…

His fingers dug into my shoulder hard enough to make me gasp, quivering like he wanted to shake me into a pulp.

“Who did this?” he roared, jaw lengthening, scales rising in ridges across his forehead and cheeks. The nubs of horns began to spiral out of his skull, and he was only seconds away from crushing me when he shifted—

“Chantrelle!” I screamed back, losing what little self-control I had. “It was Chantrelle, she knows, Rhylan, she knows!”

He stared at me, caught midway in the shift, eyes more scarlet than blue. “Explain.”

“Her Eyrie-Master found the safety straps in the saddle.” The words gushed out of me in a rush. “She guessed, she accused me of saddling you like a wyvern, and she told me I was a whore and liar and…and that we need to retract our declarations at the Second Claim and support her House, or she’ll tell everyone and we’ll be executed, your whole House will be executed—”

In the warm air of Jhazra, the frost and blood was melting, and as I spoke the cut reopened. Blood trickled to my jaw, soaking into the scarf.

Rhylan’s eyes tracked that little crimson rill, and I felt the claws on his fingers tighten, close to digging right through my leathers.

“She knows,” I whispered in anguish. “We’ve lost. It’s over. I’ve ruined everything.”

There was a long, tense silence, and Rhylan finally raised his head, exhaling a gush of flame at the ceiling. Steam trickled from his nostrils as he closed his eyes, scowling, forcing the shift back to the male.

When he looked…almost normal again, except for the scales creeping in patches all over his body, he opened his eyes and released me.

Unwound the scarf with undeserved gentleness and dropped it on the floor.

And picked me up, bracing me under my back and thighs. My body wanted to stiffen, but he gave me a slight shake until I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head against his shoulder.

Kirana was on his heels as he strode into the eyrie, bringing me down the stairs. I pressed my fingertips to my cheek, wincing as more blood trickled down into my collar.

“I’ll be right back,” Kirana breathed, eyeing him askance and fleeing down the stairs to her still-room.

Rhylan kicked the door of his bedroom open, and brought me to his bed, carefully settling me on it. Instead of sitting next to me, he knelt on the floor in front of me, taking my hands.

I couldn’t stand the silence, the heavy weight of disapproval emanating from him. “I’m sorry, Rhylan.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” His eyes flashed up to me, more dragon than male. “I want you to tell me when someone raises a hand to you. I don’t want you to make up excuses and hide it until well after I could’ve done something.”

I could see him physically working to modulate his tone, the patches of dragonhide flowing over his skin in rapid motion. Rhylan closed his eyes again, hiding their stark glitter, and slowly breathed in and out several times.

“What could you have done? We’re in the wrong.”

He raised his head again, brows clenched tightly. “I could’ve rent her limb from fucking limb, to begin with.”

“And be accused of murder and lying about the mate bond? Rhylan…it was better to get out of there than alienate our allies. Maristela wouldn’t…if you murdered her mother…”

“I don’t give a damn about Maristela or her feelings,” he snarled, his control slipping. The cinders in his eyes flared with crimson heat. “I care that Chantrelle drew blood and threatened you. I care that you’d still rather hide from me when something happens than tell me when you’re hurt. Do you not trust me enough, Sera?”

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