Page 127 of The Bond That Burns

My hands clenched around the edges of the book as I read about something called “soul-binding”—a process in which a highblood’s soul could be forcibly merged with a dragon rider’s. Highbloods had wielded this power mercilessly, using soul-bound riders as living chains, tying them to the dragons.

I felt sick. The more I read, the more horrified I felt. I could almost see it in my mind’s eye: dragons roaring in fury as they turned upon their highblood masters, dragon fire sweeping through highblood fortresses, entire armies crumbling under the might of their rebellion.

My uncle’s handwriting contemptuously detailed the fragile truce that finally ended the war. The rider bloodline had been systematically exterminated, hunted down by highbloods terrified of future rebellions—so terrified that they were willing to give up the dragons. The official story, of course—spread through more than a century of propaganda—was that the rider’s race had simply withered away naturally because of the loss of dragons. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

The dragons’ rebellion had been downplayed, rewritten into a story of noble houses clashing over petty disputes. The truth—the prevalence of soul-binding, the dragons’ betrayal, the uprising—had been carefully erased.

My stomach churned as I read about how the highbloods had done it. Viktor wrote coldly about the meticulous destruction of historical records, then of how a council had agreed to plant a deep, instinctual aversion in their own future bloodlines, ensuring future generations wouldn’t evenwantto dig into the history of dragons or riders. Any hint of curiosity had been suppressed before it could take root.

Until now.

I’d stumbled upon this by accident. But I wasn’t about to forget it.

“Of course,” I muttered. “Why tell us the truth when you could just condition us into ignorance and then repeat history a second time?”

Neville hopped onto my lap, nudging at the diary with his nose as if he didn’t want me to keep reading. I scratched behind his ears and he closed his eyes contentedly. “You don’t even know how to read, Nev. Are you hungry or bored? Or just here to rubin how much smarter you are than I am for not getting involved in this colossal mess?”

My throat felt dry as I pieced it all together. Pendragon. Viktor’s plan for her was crystal clear now. Soul-binding wasn’t some ancient, forgotten cruelty. Viktor must know how to perform it. And it was the exact leverage he wanted to control Nyxaris.

Pendragon was in more danger than she realized.

And the dragon... The dragons had risen before. Did Nyxaris remember? Would he rebel again if Viktor tried to soul-bind Pendragon?

If Viktor forced her into such a fate, Nyxaris might try to destroy us all.

I closed the diary slowly and put it back on the desk, in the exact position I’d found it. Pendragon had to know. She deserved to know. And so did Nyxaris.

I gave the fluffin another quick pat on the head, then scooped him up and unceremoniously stuffed him into my satchel. “Good work. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

CHAPTER 32 - MEDRA

The library was quiet just before dark. Filled with the kind of hush that only seemed to come when heavy snow was falling. I sat at a table by the window, my legs tucked underneath me, the book I was supposed to be reading open but forgotten in my lap, and watched the huge fluffy flakes swirl in the fading light. My breath fogged the glass as I leaned a little closer.

Movement caught my eye.

A wolf!

It was bounding through the snow along the rocky cliffs, its fur silvered in the dusk. My heart lifted as I watched it. I’d never seen a wolf here on the island before. Bloodwing Academy was so isolated, its grounds surrounded by icy sea waters. How had it gotten here? Wolves lived in packs, didn’t they? It was hard to imagine a wolf pack managing to hide somewhere on the rocky little island.

The wolf made a leaping jump across a ridge of snow, looking graceful and powerful, then disappeared behind a mound of white. I smiled to myself. The wolf had seemed so carefree. In some ways it reminded me a little of Neville.

I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed the animal. But at the tables across the aisle, the few students working there all had their heads down.

My chest tightened as I thought of something. Could it have been the same animal who had helped us when the carriage was attacked? There had been something obviously uncanny about the creature. But after growing used to living in a world withvampires and dragons, I hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to the single silver wolf. Now I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, scanning the cliffside. But there was nothing there except the falling snow.

“Enjoying the weather?”

I jumped at the sound of the deep voice and turned to see Kage standing beside my table. He had a book tucked under one arm and his pale hair was damp, as if he’d just come from a bath.

“I saw a wolf,” I explained. “Playing in the snow.”

“A wolf?” The faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth told me he was skeptical.

“I didn’t imagine it, you know. I really did see it.”

He held up a hand in mock defense. “I believe you. It’s just a little...unusual.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Says the vampire.”

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