Page 26 of Rejected By Dragons

King Zephyr holds up a hand, his talons showing. "Get her out of my sight."

I crane my neck backward, pleading with Storm this time. "Please--Please, Storm, don't let them--"

But whatever reprieve I might have been hoping for, whatever connection I imagined we shared...

Any illusions I might have had about Storm are shattered in an instant.

"There's no point fighting," he growls, putting on a good show of finding me pathetic.

But I hear what he's saying with his eyes.

He can't save me. He won't. He rejects me and what we had together. Everything he promised about us being happy together, someday, was a lie.

All the fight goes out of me at once.

"You have until midnight to make it across the border," King Zephyr warns me. "If you're still here after that, we'll see if my Royal Guard find you as tempting an outlet as my sorry excuse for a son did."

My stomach twists.

His threat is real. I wouldn't be the first exile to be thrown into sexual slavery at the hands of this depraved tyrant. The gleam in his eyes makes me shudder with revulsion. He might even use me himself, forcing himself on me as the ultimate act of subjugation.

Anger boils inside me. I smell smoke, my insides burning with fire.

Let him try. He and his guard--they'd have to kill me before I'd let them inside me. I'd fight and bite.

I cast one last, hopeless, furious glance back at Storm, but his betrayal is absolute. Seemingly indifferent, he turns his gaze away as Fury wrestles me through the gap in the tent.

The crowd outside parts. A few whispers go up, followed by a gasp.

"What--" My cousin Brynn rushes in my direction, but the entire mob is pushed back as Fury flexes his muscles. He doesn't release me, even as his bones snap and his flesh morphs.

His dragon roars as it's released. He's huge, the color of ice and covered in spikes. Leathery wings flap, and then his enormous talons circle my waist. I shriek as he lifts me into the sky.

Terrified and delirious, I look down at the field of timber and coals where even now, would-be dragons are assembling. Bitter tears pour down my face, only to be whipped away by the wind.

I should be down there. I clench my eyes shut tight and try to will my dragon into being, but she curls in on herself even further, out of reach.

Forever.

There are legends of dragons transforming for the first time on their own, but they're just that: legends. I've never heard of anyone achieving their first shift without the magic of the Emergence rites. The chances of a failure like me managing it alone? Through my tears, I laugh, ugly and raw.

I've lost my chance at ever connecting with my dragon. But that's not all I've lost.

Sobbing, I look down again. Brynn stares up at me, one hand reaching into the sky after me, but she knows better than to risk herself, trying to chase after me. I spot Storm, standing just outside the tent, his gaze haunted and pained.

Well, good. He deserves the pain. If he feels half the devastation I feel, he's still gotten off easy.

And then we're flying. Fury's talons grip me tight enough to hurt, but I don't fight his hold. I imagine him letting go and watching me splatter against the mountainside. It would almost be easier if he did. What am I supposed to do now? I hated Wynrath Crest--hated the Air Kingdom and the assholes who conspired to make my life a living hell there.

My mother's words echo back at me as we soar over the village.

Stay hidden, Ember. Stay safe.

I've done neither.

She'd be so disappointed in me.

After what feels like both moments and years, Fury dives downward. I hold in my scream as we hurtle toward the ground near the edge of town, only to pull up at the last second. His great wings beat hard against the sky as he slows to hover right outside Aunt Helena's house. He releases me from his huge claws, and I land hard on the lawn. The fabric of my dress tears, my arms and legs getting scratched and bruised to hell at the impact.

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