Page 66 of Heimlock

Fynn.

My soul.

Why did he get to fall apart, when I've been forced to stitch myself together so many times, my soul resembles a patchwork quilt?

But I’ve already learned by now that it doesn’t matter what I’ve lost in this life.

It doesn’t matter at all.

27

Kyrielle: I’d like to ask my first question today.

Trinte: What is it?

Kyrielle: Come do something with me first.

Trinte: That wasn’t a part of the agreement.

Kyrielle: I figure we should do a trade. I ask you something about yourself, and you learn something about me.

Trinte: And if I don’t want to?

Kyrielle: Then you don’t have to.

Trinte: Where and at what time?

***

It’s chilly today, with a cold front moving in through the floating city. Igniting flames in my palms, I rub them together, looking for blue scales. Today, I’m introducing Trinte to something that’s important to me. I figure it’s a fair exchange.

A week has passed since the battle. We’ve sent no texts, and I avoided the gym. More to rest from the expense of healing energy required.

My instincts also tell me he needed space. It was a side of him never revealed before. None of it scares me. I’m learning the more angry and standoffish he gets, the more scared he is. Not unlike an injured animal. I know what it’s like being there. Today, I hope to help show him something that helped me move on.

The flap of wings catches my attention. A brilliant blue Dragon lands on four thick legs. Hidden in his bi-pedal form, deadly spikes spear up from his spine and head. A vicious looking barbed tail slams into the landing platform. Smoke trails from his nostrils.

As if he can sense my gaze, Trinte turns his triangular head in my direction, his good eye reptilian in this form.

He’s stunning. I mean, he’s stunning in both forms, but since this is the first time I’ve seen him in all of his reptilian glory, I allow myself a moment of silent appreciation at his breadth of power.

There’s a shimmer and Trinte appears, face devoid of emotion. He doesn’t look happy to see me.

Even if he won’t smile, that won’t stop me from giving him one. His gaze immediately homes in on my lips before looking away.

“I’m here,” he says dully.

An unexpected wave of sadness roots into my heart. It feels like every time I see Trinte, there’s a bit less of him. Wasting away by the day. My hand twitches, desperate to grab one of his. There’s no way he’ll tolerate it, so I make fists and stuff them into my puffy jacket.

Jerking my head toward the building behind me, I say, “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

“Late for what?” There’s a spark of interest that’s immediately snuffed out.

Grinning, I lead him to the front door.

“What are we doing here, Kyrielle?”

He frowns when I open the door for him. I motion for him to keep walking. A muscle feathers in his jaw; he’s probably pissed that I opened the door for him.