Page 48 of Court of Secrets and Flames

Whatever. I’m just happy for the distraction from that godsawful nightmare.

Is this the future I can expect from here on out? Part of me regrets ever reading that prophecy.

With a shaky sigh, I swing my legs over the bed. Any hope for a peaceful beginning to the day evaporates like mist under the morning sun. I slip into one of the dragonriding outfits Rhiann provided and again admiring its comfort and sleekness.

Am I becoming more Tirenese? Though I loathe the methods used to bring and keep me here, I can’t help the connection I’m developing with the dragons. With my heritage.

But that’s a thought for another time.

Despite my early rise, a breakfast tray waits by the door. No berries this time. Instead, there are biscuits, honey, cheese, and what appears to be a large bloodred fruit, cut into bite-size pieces. Strangely, there is also a slip of paper folded and set on the side of the tray.

I pop a piece of fruit into my mouth and unfold the note.

Dragon’s blood is the name of a fruit the dragons are especially fond of. That is what we use to make our dragon’s blood liqueurs, not dragons.

SB

He brought me breakfast. The prince of Tirene brought me breakfast.

My heart flutters at the sweet gesture, and just for a moment, I let my thoughts drift to last night. Something was different with him this time. Despite the lies and the deceit, the mystery of my past and the uncertainty of the future, things are changing between us.

Every time I’ve slept with him has been…well, incredible. But after this last time, something inside me shifted, thawing the ice block surrounding my heart. And that terrifies me.

Even if I were to ever drop my guard enough to trust him again, we can’t be together.

As a prince of Tirene, his place remains here, among his people.

And I still plan to escape the first chance I get. To Kamor, or maybe one of the Northern kingdoms.

I need to clear my head. I need to get out of this room and as far away as possible from the palace and the prince.

Leaving behind the rest of the food, I take the bowl of fruit with me.

The corridors are alive with the palace’s early morning bustle, with servants flitting about and the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchens. It’s the perfect chaos to help distract my mind from the memories that note evoked.

Damn that man and his wicked mouth. Along with every other part of his freakishly gorgeous body.

The orange male dragon’s call thrums in my mind, a persistent beckoning that hastens my steps. Impatience radiates from his consciousness. The mental nudge he directs my way pushes me to stride double-time across the cobblestones.

In the fire paddock, the orange dragon waits. A sense of pride surges as I approach.

The Lark who once balked at flying atop an alicorn now rides a dragon. If someone had told me this would happen before I left for Flighthaven, I would have laughed my ass off and assumed they drank a little too much cooking sherry.

We launch skyward, the ground falling away as we climb into the embrace of the azure heavens. Every swoop and soar cements the bond forming between us, a melding of spirits that transcends words.

“Thank you, Knox.”

His lessons—both what he showed me yesterday and all the many things he taught during my alicorn training at Flighthaven—resonate within me, guiding my hands and instincts as my dragon companion and I navigate the boundless sky.

It’s not just the practical skills Knox imparted, though, but understanding the mystical connection entwining dragoncaller with dragon. Orange and I share a silent conversation that flows between us, as natural as breathing and as vital as the blood coursing through my veins.

High above the kingdom that both cradles and confines us, I am remade.

Bound by earth no longer, I answer the call of the skies, along with the dragon underneath me.

Below us, the clouds block my view of the earth. Embracing the joyful moment, I summon the fire magic running through my veins and let it rip.

Flames arch ahead of us, forming a tunnel of fire. I squeal, and the orange dragon bugles. With a sigh of relief, I call my magic back and douse out the flames.

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