Page 80 of The Bond That Burns

“A rider does not surrender her power for the sake of pleasure or indulgence.”

That sounded about right. Except I wasn’t his rider.

I wonder if Nyxaris had been as hard on his former riders as he was on me. I supposed it didn’t matter; they were all dead now. Did he mourn them as much as he mourned the loss of his fellow dragons?

I closed my eyes again and the memory of Blake’s face rose right to the surface despite my efforts to banish it.

I thought of him spread over me, our bodies pressed together, as if for a few brief moments they could be one and we could put all the hate behind us. I was wracked with guilt but the hard truth was it had also been the best sex I’d ever had. Everything had been easy. We’d fit together like a matching set.

He’d looked so beautiful as he stared down at me. For a moment, his skin had almost shimmered and I’d thought I’d seen his dragon tattoos spread out like real scales, dancing across his arms and chest.

When I opened my eyes, the bathwater had gone cold. I climbed out and wrapped myself in a towel, avoiding the mirror as I padded back into the room.

The robe was still on the floor. I stared at it for a long moment, then kicked it under the bed.

Out of sight, out of mind.

The towering double doors of the Bloodwing Library creaked softly as I pushed them open and walked through. A familiar wave of awe swept over me as it always did. The sheer size of the place was overwhelming. Rows of tall, dark wood bookshelves lined the main aisle, stretching far into the distance. Long wooden tables were scattered throughout, occupied by students hunched over books and stacks of parchment, their whispered voices blending with the rustling of pages. Above it all, the enchanted ceiling moved in its four quadrants. One caught my eye. A desert with rolling hills of reddish sand. The sun was just rising overhead, striking the sun with a golden light.

If every part of the mural showed some place in Sangratha, then Sangratha was huge. I’d only studied part of the realm’s geography, but any hope I’d held out for some neighbouring kingdom to save me from the highbloods was long since past. Sangratha was, for all intents and purposes, the entire world. If there were other realms, they were so far away as to not matter.

A foreign world in every way, my mother’s voice said softly. I’d decided to bring the dagger she resided in with me that evening. She’d become too introspective, too solitary of late.

Do you miss it?I asked her.Aercanum, I mean?It had been her home much longer than it had been mine, after all.

Not particularly,she said thoughtfully.I suppose that’s strange. But I do miss my body. I miss riding a horse. I miss the windin my hair. I miss the taste of wine. Not to mention the glorious feel of a lithe naked male pressed up against my...

All right, I said hastily.That’s enough reminiscing.

Well, she said smoothly.You did ask. And you might have thanked me.

Thanked you? Was that supposed to be the start of some motherly lecture on the basics of reproduction? If so, I’m sorry to inform you but I learned about the birds and the bees quite some time ago.

She laughed. She had a beautiful, melodic laugh.I’m well aware, Daughter. I simply meant you might praise my forbearance in not remarking on your earlier... assignation.

Yousawthat?I said hotly, my face instantly turning red. A girl carrying an armful of papers and books gave me a strange look as I walked past her.

Not saw,she said.More like... received an overall impression when you picked me up earlier.

You can sense that much just from my touch?I was both annoyed and impressed.

Yes.She yawned.You see? I’m not even asking you questions. Like how good he was, how long he lasted, how well endowed...

Enough, enough, I said firmly.Let’s find Florence.

I tried to focus. I inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of parchment and leather, wood smoke and candle wax. Slowly I walked down the main aisle, finally catching sight of Florence. She sat at a table surrounded by an ambitious-looking pile of books, her dark hair tucked behind her ears and her glassessliding down her nose as she leaned over a tome, flipping quickly through the pages.

She looked up as I approached and broke into a smile. “Medra! You made it.”

“Barely,” I said, setting my satchel on the table and glancing at the books. “Impressive collection.”

She colored slightly. “I’m getting a head start on some reading I wanted to do for The Alchemist’s Garden.”

“That’s your favorite class this term, isn’t it?” I asked with interest.

“How could it not be?” she exclaimed. “I adore Professor Allenvale and I already loved Professor Rodriguez...” She trailed off, blushing, as she caught my raised eyebrow. “Well, notloved. Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I do indeed,” I said, smirking. “You think he’s handsome.”

---