Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
“But I don’t need the practice?” My voice echoes in the tunnel.
“Winning the Squad Battle is nothing in the scheme of keeping you alive. You’ll be on the front lines before the rest of them come next year.” The mage lights play off the harsh angles of his face, casting sinister shadows as we pass each one.
“Is that what’s going to happen next year?” I ask as we come out the other side, the snow whiting out my vision momentarily. It’s piled high on each side of the path, the result of this heavy winter. “I’m going to the front lines?”
“Inevitably. There’s no telling how long Sgaeyl and Tairn will tolerate being separated. My best guess is that we’ll both have to sacrifice to keep them happy.” He’s clearly not so happy about it himself, but I can’t blame him. After three years in the quadrant, I’d want to get the hell out, too. My stomach sinks as I realize I’ll be in his shoes when I graduate as well, with no real control on how our dragons’ bond dictates my future posts.
I nod, not knowing what else to say, and we walk to the Gauntlet in companionable silence.
“Second Wing,” I note, watching the squad from Tail Section slip and slide their way across the Gauntlet. “You sure you don’t want your own squads out here practicing?”
A corner of his mouth lifts, and that inhuman facade of his cracks. “When I was a first-year, I thought winning was the pinnacle, too. But once you’re in your third year, and you see the things that we do…” His jaw flexes. “Let’s just say that the games are a lot more lethal.”
We head toward the staircase that leads to the flight field, but there’s already a group coming down, so I move back to let them descend first.
My heart launches into my throat as they come closer, and I snap my frame to an attention stance, my spine stiffening. It’s Commandant Panchek and Colonel Aetos.
Reaching the ground first, Dain’s dad offers me a smile. “At ease. You’re looking well, Violet. Nice flight lines,” he says, gesturing to the ones on his own cheekbones that come from flight goggles. “You must be getting a lot of airtime.”
“Thank you, sir, I am.” I relax my posture and can’t help but return the favor, but my lips are tight. “Dain is doing well, too. He’s my squad leader this year.”
“He’s told me.” He grins, his brown eyes just as warm as Dain’s. “Mira asked about you while we were touring the Southern Wing last month. Don’t worry, you’ll get your letter privileges in second year, and then you can keep in touch more often. I’m sure you miss her.”
“Every day.” I nod, pushing past the swell of emotion the admission brings. It’s so much easier to pretend there’s nothing outside the walls than to wallow in how much I miss my sister.
Xaden stiffens at my side as Mom steps out of the stairwell. Oh shit.
“Mom,” I blurt, and her head turns, her eyes meeting mine. It’s been more than five months since I’ve seen her, and even though I want to be as composed as she is, as compartmentalized, I just can’t. I’m not built like she is, like Mira is. I’m my father’s daughter.
Her assessing gaze sweeps over me with all the familiarity of a commanding general and a Basgiath cadet, and there’s no warmth in her expression as she finishes her perusal. “I hear you’re having trouble wielding.”
I blink and step backward, as though physical distance is going to shelter me from the icy rebuke. “I have the best shields in my year.” For the first time, I’m actually glad I haven’t manifested a signet, haven’t given her something to brag about.
“With a dragon like Tairn, I would certainly hope so.” She cocks an eyebrow. “If not, all of that incredible, enviable power will have been…” Her sigh is a puff of steam in the air. “Squandered.”
I try my best to swallow the growing knot in my throat. “Yes, General.”
“You have been the topic of some conversation, though.” Her gaze skims the top of my head, and I know she’s looking at the silver-tipped braid she thinks marks me as cursed, the hair she told me I was better off cutting.
“Oh?” She actually talks about me?
“We’re all wondering what powers—if any—you’re wielding from the golden dragon?” Her lips form a smile I’m sure she thinks is soft, but I know her too well to fall for it.
“No.” The single word from Tairn rumbles through my entire body. “Do not speak of it.”
“Nothing yet.” I drag my tongue over my chapped lower lip. Winter is hell on the skin during flight. “Andarna told me that feathertails are known for being unable to channel power to their rider.” Only their direct gifts, but I’m not about to say that. “It’s why they don’t bond often.”