Page 158 of Heimlock

I sigh. It went on almost every day until the day we almost killed one another.

Now she lets out a keening cry. Every day?

Yes.

Why didn’t you tell me that day?

Because I couldn’t even talk about it until a couple of months ago. No one knew about it until Kyrielle.

She looks below. Is that the Fire Sprite?

Yes, it is.

She’s beautiful.

In every way that matters.

She begins a slow descent. Thank you for sharing. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but please know that you have my support.

Thank you.

We land in the circle, and Kyrielle immediately flies over to me. “Everything okay?”

Yes, she needed help in understanding why.

She flies alongside my head, looking worried. “Are you alright?”

I wish there were a way to smile in this form. Very. I’m ready to get this over with.

A murmur goes through the crowd, and the unshifted Dragons point in the sky. Kyrielle cranes her neck, trying to see what has their attention. A gleaming ruby catches the soft sunshine.

My father has arrived.

My heart beats faster; if I could sweat in this form, I’d probably be coated head to toe. A knot of fury roils in my gut; how can I be thirty-five and suddenly feel seven years old all over again?

People begin to stare at me—my Weyr stares at me. Family in one way or another. None of them understands why I’ve done this. To them, my father is a good man. An exemplary Dragon, handsome in his own right, with scales the color of arterial blood. His gold spikes are daggers coming from his back. His tail ends in a brutal club; I’d inherited the spikes from my mother.

She’s protecting me, even from the grave.

What would she think of today? Father never spoke about her, but I would like to think she would have been a kind mother, like Talia. We had to have received our dispositions from someone, and it certainly wasn’t our father.

For the first time in my life, I silently ask her for protection and strength. Maybe she’s next to Fortuna, peering down at this sacred event. If so, I want to make them both proud.

My father lands in the circle, further away. Next to him, a gray female Dragon lands. She’s small, with black spikes.

For the third time in as many months, I see him and want to kill him. A deep growl vibrates my gullet.

“Steady,” Kyrielle says, floating closer to my head, putting a tempering hand on my face. “You’ll have your moment.”

Still, I snap in his direction. He lowers his head, snaking his neck in a threat. I can’t help but feel vindication when I see his stolen eye is sealed shut.

He’s close enough to hear me say, It sucks to live without an eyeball, doesn’t it?

My father snaps wickedly large jaws in response. You petulant child. I have repeatedly tried to apologize. Why can you not see that I have been trying to make amends?

Amends, I say, tone flat. Anger ferociously blooms. Opening my maw to release a roar, I scream into his addled brain, Amends?! Are you off your fucking rocker, old man?

“Goddess, what is he saying?” Kyrielle says, fear lacing her tone.