Page 161 of Heimlock

Racidious’s jaw ticks as he assesses the crowd’s reaction. Some people seem to be in denial, shaking their heads. Others exchange looks and appear … unsurprised?

The red Dragon’s tail thumps on the snow. Shame deepens his frown, and he looks at his feet. “I do not deny it.”

Trinte recoils as if the words were a physical blow. Fynn inhales sharply, and Orliana grabs his hand. Talia makes a startled sound of surprise, as if she also expected a denial.

Leaning against her shoulder, I whisper, “Did you not know?”

“I did,” she murmured. “At least, I suspected. But to hear him say it …”

“… I know.”

Trinte recovers quickly enough, now looking confused. He’d expected an argument; a rebuttal. This? Admission without hesitation?

Unfathomable.

Teale’s eyes glisten as she announces, “The Cairanin will begin in forty-five seconds. May Fortuna favor the fortunate.”

Teale stumbles toward the crowd in a daze, as if her brother’s words yanked her world out from under her. A few other women bundle her in hugs and comforting words.

Trinte and Racidious square off, with the latter appearing … remorseful.

Joulian looks at Orliana with fear. “He’ll be okay, right?”

“Yes,” she says firmly.

When he looks at me, I put a hand on his shoulder. “He’d never leave me behind.”

This seems to satisfy him. He turns back to watch as the two male Dragons wait for the signal.

A horn blows and the men shift. My heart lodges straight in my throat, making it hard to breathe. Two Dragons appear, slamming their wings down and rising in the air.

The crowd roars, but it might as well still be silent, thanks to the pounding of blood in my ears as I watch Trinte fly higher and higher.

“How do they know when to stop?” I ask Fynn.

“The Cairanin magyck will signal.”

The Dragons fly upward for five minutes, stopping thousands of feet in the air. They hover, facing one another. When the horn sounds one more time and they slam into one another, I nearly weep from terror.

61

From the moment I pump my wings to the long climb in thin, unforgiving air, I have one singular thought: get back to Kyrielle. Every inhalation reminds me of why my heart beats; why I’m here, next to him.

He hasn’t said a word to me since we entered the circle, and that’s fine. The less he’s in my mind forever, the better.

When we’re high enough, a sense of pressure forces us to stop. We hover, staring at one another. Below, the crowd is so small, they might as well be specks of dirt.

Closing my eyes, I send one more prayer to my mother and Fortuna, then dig right into my Fyre. It roars up, ready to destroy. My chest glows, and his does the same.

I want you to know that I loved you in my own way.

Snorting out smoke, I say, You should know I hated you in all the ways.

My father tilts his head to peer at me with the single amber eye he owns. Every time I see that empty socket, I’m grateful to Fynn all over again. You seem to be doing well enough. It must not have been so bad.

I’m better in spite of what you’ve done, old man. You tried to break me, and you couldn’t. I’m going to get this over with and live the rest of my life with a real family who actually love me.

He sighs. You keep telling yourself that.