Page 63 of Burned

“I just wanted you to remember how much we’ve been through together before I tell you something that’s going to be really hard to hear.”

His knee stops bouncing and he goes completely still, his eyes fixed on me, waiting for me to go on. The bushes rustle a little to our left and I focus on the chatter of squirrels as they scurry up and down the surrounding trees, grounding myself in something so mundane rather than the nerves squeezing around my gut like a vice.

“I was dying. I thought I was dead. All I can really remember is staring up at the stars as the pain faded away and my body started to feel like it was weightless and untethered. I thought about you, about leaving you behind with Digby and dad and how I wished I could take you with me or find some way to stay.”

Viggo makes a strangled noise in his throat and reaches across the table to put his hand on mine.

“What happened?” His gaze drops to my chest, then returns to my face.

In spite of all of my fear about how Viggo will react or how we’ll handle Digby and our dad, a smile tugs at my lips.

“Lord,” I sigh his name.

Viggo frowns, his forehead wrinkling and his eyebrows tugging together. “Lord?” he repeats.

“That’s the name of the dragon who saved my life. He’s my mate.”

His breath catches, and if I thought he was still before, it’s nothing compared to now. He’s like a statue. Not breathing, not blinking, it almost seems like he somehow convinced the wind to not even ruffle his hair for a minute.

“Alrick, what are you talking about?” he hisses, looking over his shoulder and leaning in closer.

“They’re nothing like dad says, Vig. They’re not bad or evil, they’re not bloodthirsty or greedy… Well, okay they’re alittlegreedy, but it’s kind of charming when you get to know them. They have hearts just like ours, they have families, they can feel love and sorrow and everything just like we can.”

His face is pale, his eyes fixed on the table as I ramble on, hoping like hell I’ll be able to convince him of the truth, that it’s not too late to undo our dad’s teachings.

“I know that,” he says quietly when I finally stop talking to draw in a breath.

“Vig, it’s… Wait, youknow?”

He huffs out a laugh and pushes his hair out of his face again. “Yes, I do. On my twentieth birthday, Digby took me out hunting, he said it was going to be my rite of passage to make my first kill. We found a lone dragon and we ambushed it.”

It’s my turn to hold my breath, bile rising in my throat. I want to cover my ears. I don’t want to hear the rest of this story.

“When I held my blade to its throat, it begged for its life. Digby tried to convince me it was a trick, that the dragon would say anything to regain the upper hand so it could kill us instead, but I just couldn’t get over the look in its eyes, the pleading, the fear…” He buries his face in his hands for a moment and then lets out a breath. “I couldn’t do it. I was prepared for Digby to be right, for the dragon to attack as soon as I lowered my blade, but it didn’t. It ran away instead.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper. “But you’ve killed since then.”

He shakes his head. “Digby beat me within an inch of my life that night and once I healed, dad did the same. I wanted to run, to leave all of their bullshit behind, but I couldn’t.” He looks across the table at me again and I understand exactly what he’s not saying out loud. He couldn’t leavemealone with them. “So, I pretended to kill. I bartered with dragons for their scales or horns so I could bring them back and pretend to have done what I was told. But, no, I’ve never slain any of them and I never will.”

The relief that rushes through me is so dizzying that I let out an involuntary laugh.

“Holy shit, this is good news. I need you to help me. We need to convince them to leave the Drakes alone. We need to find a way to show them that they’re wrong and dragons aren’t what they think they are.”

Viggo’s answering laugh isn’t as jovial or full of relief as mine. It’s bitter and it makes my heart hurt.

“They won’t?—”

Before he can finish his sentence, the bushes rustle again. I turn my head, expecting to see another squirrel, but my blood runs cold as Digby emerges instead.

I’m out of my seat just a second before Viggo. It’s just enough of a delay that our larger, eldest brother manages to get an arm around Viggo’s throat from behind.

“You know, I followed thinking you might need protection from dragons, brother. Instead, I find the two of you talking like traitors. I’m not surprised Viggo’s been brainwashed by the overgrown lizards, but I’d always had higher hopes for you, Alrick.”

“Let him go,” I command.

Digby lets out a cold, cruel chuckle and pulls the dagger out of Viggo’s belt loop.

“That’s not how this is going to go.” He raises the blade to Viggo’s throat. “You wouldn’t want to make a scene and get your big brother hurt, would you?”

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