Page 41 of The Bond That Burns

The words she used had settled in my chest like a glowing ember, warming places I hadn’t even realized were frozen.

I’d lost so much when I’d arrived in Sangratha. I’d lost so much simply by virtue of beingme. Back in Camelot, I’d been repeatedly told that my Aunt Morgan and Uncle Draven had loved me. But they’d been away for most of my childhood.

There had been Crescent. But he’d never warmed to me. He’d tried to show me affection but deep down, I’d always known he saw me as too different to love.

A lump formed in my throat. Then there was Odessa. She’d loved me. I knew that now, even though she hadn’t been the kind to speak about her feelings very often. She’d died so I could live.

Ever since I’d been born, people had been throwing their lives away so I’d survive. First my mother, then Odessa, then my aunt and uncle had nearly lost theirs.

But I didn’t need to be saved. I needed to be loved. Florence had taught me that. She’d already taught me so much.

I turned back to my room and went over to the edge of my bed. The sky was dark. Moonlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the dagger that lay on my bedside table.

I’d only spoken to my mother sparingly over the summer. There had been... changes in her. Some disturbed me.

But I needed her now.

I picked up the blade, its weight familiar yet strange as always.

Are you awake?I whispered.

A faint hum rose in my mind. Our connection was very different from the rumbling imposing presence that was Nyxaris.

Then her voice came, soft and knowing.Always for you, dear one.

I exhaled slowly, sitting back down on the bed and holding the dagger in both hands.I don’t even know where to start.

The beginning is always a good place, she suggested.Or begin with what’s weighing on you the most.

I gave a tired laugh.I just got back from the Tribunal. I rode a dragon.

I went through the events of the day, explaining in more detail than I’d given to Florence. I knew I’d tell my friend more tomorrow. But today, I hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her—or add to her own burdens.

The dragon frightens you, my mother suggested.He killed a man before your eyes.

Yes. No. Yes, but not because I think he’ll hurt me. At least, not intentionally, I amended.It’s... everything he represents. I don’t know if I can be what he needs.

We are both new to this world. But despite that, it’s clear the bond between dragon and rider was never meant to be easy. He needs you as much as you need him. Even if neither of you wants to admit it.

I frowned.Maybe. But this isn’t like the bonds of old. There’s no one else. No one to train me. Nyxaris doesn’t want me as his rider. And he’s so lost. So angry.

There was a pause.And what about you? Are you so very different? Are you not angry? Are you not lost?

I winced. She was right, of course. I was drowning in fear and frustration. I felt trapped. So did Nyxaris. I felt alone. But how much more alone must he feel?

At least I know why I’m angry and who I’m angry at, I said.He doesn’t even seem to remember what happened to him. Or to the other dragons. I can’t give him answers. I’m as in the dark as he is.

Then find them,my mother said.

I groaned.It’s not that simple and you know it.

It is if you make it so. I could hear her growing impatient. With my limitations or with her own?You have more resources than you realize. The dragon has memories. Even if he thinks he’s forgotten, they could be locked within him even now. And as you’ve already guessed, the highbloods are hiding truths they don’t want you or any other blightborn to find. So search out those truths. Look everywhere.

Her words hit me like a slap.You think I haven’t tried? The books Rodriguez gave me last year were worthless. He’s as bad as a highblood, keeping his own confidence and not letting me in.

Then make him tell you. Force the truth from him if you have to.

My grip on the dagger tightened.And how exactly am I supposed to do that? He’s my professor, Mother.

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