Page 68 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

“Yes. Vehemently. This can’t be healthy for them.” I can’t pull my gaze off the one closest to us. Those golden eyes trap me, hold me still. Despair washes through me again, along with anger over their captivity. I wince as I recall how caged I felt at our castle. Compared to these dragons, I had all the freedom in the world.

A fresh wave of exhaustion crashes into me, and my head begins to spin and throb. “Do you agree with this?”

Somehow, I know the answer before he even offers his curt reply. “No.”

“Do…are all dragons kept like this?”

He shakes his head. “When dragons bond with their riders, there’s no need for jailing them.”

“So the rumors are true then. The dragons in Aclaris are no longer bonding.” I’d heard the whispers, but never knew if the rumors were true. “What about in other kingdoms?”

Thorne tenses before exhaling a forceful breath. “Not sure.”

I tilt my head as he averts his gaze. “Why do you think?—”

“Stop. We’re not here to discuss my theories on why the dragons are or aren’t bonding. We’re here to feed them. So let’s get started.”

With his wheelbarrow in tow, he approaches the door to the first enclosure while murmuring soft words beneath his breath. The leaf-green dragon cocks its head, tracking the motion.

I edge closer to the pen, watching Thorne as he hauls the carcass onto his back and dumps the mound of meat and flesh into a huge metal trough. “Do you need any help?”

“No, stay back. I need to remove the restraints on her mouth so she can eat, and it’ll look bad on my record if I get a fledgling fried in the process.”

“As always, your concern for my well-being warms my heart.” I frown. “What about you? How do you know she won’t fry you?”

“I’m much too pretty and charming to fry. Isn’t that right, Farrow?”

I snort. “Definitely not too humble, though.”

“False modesty is a waste of time.” A click follows that proclamation, and my stomach clenches as he removes the iron band from Farrow’s muzzle. “Dragons are smart, and there’s a reason for that saying, ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you.’”

Farrow opens her mouth wide, showcasing a curled, black tongue and an alarming array of pointed teeth close to my forearm in length. Thorne steps off to the side as the dragon breathes fire at the carcass, presumably warming the meal before digging in. He exits and grabs the wheelbarrow while Farrow’s teeth begin ripping chunks of flesh off the bones.

We go from cell to cell, feeding the dragons and returning to the freezer for refills. The task eats up a lot of time, and pushing the wheelbarrow grows more grueling with every step. By the second trip back and forth, the dull burn in my arm and back muscles erupts into a blaze. The longer we stay, the heavier the air becomes. Every step drains me just a little bit more, and a sense of hopelessness wraps around my body. Leesa must have hated seeing the dragons like this too. If only they could tell me where I might find her.

After the fifth dragon’s been fed, I blurt out the question on my mind. “Did you know my sister Leesa?”

Something flickers across Thorne’s face. “Of course. I was her instructor.” His gaze travels over my features. “You don’t resemble her. A stranger would never guess you’re related, much less siblings.”

I shrug. “My mother said Leesa takes after her, while I look like my paternal grandmother.”

His eyebrows inch up, but he says nothing.

“Have you heard anything about Leesa and where she might have disappeared to?”

“Guessing I’ve heard the same rumors that you have. It’s all speculation, unfortunately.”

A knot forms in my throat. “What if she’s dead?”

Thorne’s chest inflates on a sharp breath. His jaw tightens, and his eyes go blank. Then an odd emotion—maybe regret—softens his features. “Look at me. There’s no reason to believe the worst.”

I do as he asks, searching his face for reassurance. “How can you be so sure?”

“She was well liked here for the most part. People respected her. And there were no signs of foul play.”

To my utter shock, he pauses outside the cold room to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Embers spark to life at the innocent touch, the sight of his fingers on my skin zapping all my nerve endings awake. As if he experienced the same spark, Thorne jolts, dropping my hand like it stung him.

When he disappears into cold storage to grab more carcasses, I tell myself I’m relieved. I use the short break to get my shit together, reminding myself of all the very smart reasons why lusting after Thorne is a catastrophe waiting to happen.

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