Page 145 of Feralheart

Tactical positioning?

I met her gaze and held it.

She looked away, fussing with her new packages of food as if they required her full attention.

Reece groaned, sitting up and rubbing his back. His neck. His legs. His face went gray before color seeped back in.

“What’s this?” He stared at the supplies beside him with widening eyes.

“Someone has a conscience,” Lyndie said lightly.

Reece’s throat worked. His fingers trembled when he picked up the water flask, turning it over.

“They see us,” he whispered. “Someone actually sees us and they sent help.” Hope lit his face.

I looked at Lyndie. She looked at me.

We both nodded.

Reece didn’t need to know who’d provided the supplies. Let him believe the kingdom had a heart. He could carry the feeling into whatever was coming next. It might be the only thing that kept him going.

His hands trembled as he unwrapped the meat. Silent tears tracked down his cheeks, and his shoulders shook with the effort of keeping the sound locked inside.

I dragged my eyes away. Some grief was too private to witness, even when it was sitting a short distance away on black sand.

Lyndie opened a packet of dried fruit. “Eat. We don’t know when we’ll get another chance.”

I ate because she was right.

A horn blast shattered the lull.

Riders scrambled to their feet. Dragons lifted their heads.

A herald strode into view, her robes shimmering with spelled fabric.

“Today’s trial requires pairing,” she called out, her voice magically amplified. “Riders will be paired by their dragons.”

We gaped at each other.

“Dragons must approach each other, touch noses, and form a temporary alliance. The trial begins when the last pair forms.” She paused, letting that sink in. “There are no other rules.”

Chills wracked my frame. No other rules meant anything could happen. Anything would happen.

The herald disappeared, transporting herself out of the cavern.

Lyndie, Reece, and I leaped to our feet and started packing our supplies away.

The nobles were equally feverish.

“Pair with Blair’s dragon, she’s fastest,” a lady said.

“No, strength matters more.”

“Formation flying requires…”

Lady Severine stood at the center of her team, directing the others like a general. She pointed at riders, assigning pairings, her voice cutting through the noise. They were treating this like a social dance. Choose your partner, follow the steps, and make sure you perform it well.

I stared at Reece and Lyndie.