Page 80 of Dragon Unleashed

“Sugarpuff! You’re awake. I was just talking. I—I didn’t mean to tell you, not yet.”

My face cracks in an attempt at a smile. Her stupid nonswears. I reach through the bars, my arm as heavy as a dead weight, and pat her knee before shutting my eyes again.

My body might not be responding but my brain’s whirring. Someone blended reality and illusion. Putting Frank into a scenario was mean, but whoever added him didn’t know he’s dead. I should know—I killed him.

But Dexter? I shiver, and Naeve pulls the blankets up to my chin, clucking like a damn mother hen. Dexter was there. He wasinsidethat scenario. That psycho is still looking for ways to get to me.

My allegiance came for me, saved me. And now what? Naeve wants me to rat them out. Tell the academy that my allegiance interfered with an official examination? Nope. Someone’s going to get expelled for this. I’ll be damned if it’s them.

They stopped me from burning myself alive, they stopped… They stopped Dexter.

There is no way in all the hells I’m shopping them.

“The nurse says you’re capable of making a statement.”

I blink awake to find Naeve has been replaced by a mousy-haired office lady with a clipboard. She frowns, seeing me stir. “Your allegiance claims you didn’t cheat, that instead they interfered. This is serious, Miss Bal. Do you confirm their version of events?” She fiddles with a pen tucked into her bun as she waits for me to reply.

“No.”

“B-b-but…”

I firm my lips into a line and turn away from her, facing the wall.

A hand falls on my shoulder and I start. Naeve. Rolling my shoulders, I push away from my desk. I’ve been in this position way too long. Doc told me I need to move around. I glance at the clock. Five hours hunched in front of stupid newsreels on my tablet isprobablytoo long.

She slides a paper bag toward me, flakes of pastry dropping out the side. A waft of cinnamony goodness hits me and I grab it, grinning. She settles on the edge of her bed, eyeing me like I’m a wild animal.

“You sure you won’t come to the Solstice Ball tonight?”

Rolling my eyes, I take a giant bite, allowing it to melt in my mouth.

“What’s the point?” I say, spewing crumbs. “I’m probably getting kicked out. I’m not coming just to let Camille and her little posse gloat. Plus…” I gesture to the bandages still wrapped around half my body. Pushing the pastry aside, I force a smile. “I’m not exactly presentable.”

Naeve dusts my crumby mess into the trash and scowls. “We could find a dress to hide it. Maybe a trouser suit? And the academy board haven’t made up their mind. They’re to reach a decision by the end of Solstice break. You can’t just give up. Did you evengiveyour statement?”

Screwing my face up, I turn away slightly. “Naeve, I’m not going to shop you all.”

She sucks in a breath and picks up her knitting, clacking away furiously with her needles.

“Hear me out. The zero tolerance cheating policy is a bitch. They’re going to expel someone for this. Better for it to be one of us kicked out than four.” I shake my head. “Anyway, if this is the new thread the Fates wove, then what am I supposed to do? I can’t fight fate.”

Naeve boops me on the nose.What the hell am I, a disobedient dog?

“Don’t just accept it. You’ve no idea what the Fates intend.”

“Fine. Let’s say the Fates didn’t mean for me to leave. How exactly do I fight it?”

Naeve throws her knitting on her bed. “I don’tknow, Lorelei. But something. Anything.” She reaches over and takes a big bite out of my pastry. “Maybe ask Farrell. He was worried when you were in the hospital.”

I snort so hard the healing skin on my face threatens to split. “Bollocks he was. Take off those rose-tinted spectacles. This is real life. My life.”

She shuffles awkwardly in her seat. “He was. He sat with you in the hospital, alternating nights with Chano.”

They were both there? I snatch the rest of the pastry, stuffing it in my mouth before Naeve can snaffle any more.

Maybe nearly dying wasn’t such a bad thing.

While Naeve primps for the ball, I take a very careful sponge wash at the sink. The image peering back at me from the mirror is deathly pale. Bruises linger around my throat, and my left arm remains firmly wrapped in bandages. I survived. I’m a fighter.

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