Page 160 of Feralheart

I met Fen’s gaze but dragged mine away, and we both rose to our feet.

The prince was attracted to me.

I craved him equally.

The next trial would probably kill us.

I wasn’t sure which was the worst disaster.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

FEN

Eradin wanted me, and she knew I wanted her back.

The realization sank into my chest like a beast with teeth, tearing through every careful defense I’d spent a lifetime building.

My gaze dropped to her throat. Her pulse jumped there too fast for someone trying to appear calm.

She noticed me noticing, and her face tightened.

Our eyes met and held. My pulse kicked up, traitor that it was, and from the way her breath caught she’d felt it through whatever connection the magic had forged between us.

She dragged her gaze away and strode over to Selira, cupping the dragon’s face and murmuring something I was too far away to hear. She leaned forward and kissed the dragon’s snout, and Selira puffed out smoke in reply.

Through our bond, I felt Aristus’s muted wonder. He was watching Selira the way I was watching Eradin. Trying to understand how they moved together, how they communicated without force.

Want, he sent, so clear it pierced through our muted connection.

He wanted what they had.

So did I.

Selira flew with absolute trust in Eradin, the way Eradin flew with trust in her.

This, something said inside me. This is how bonds should always be.

Aristus longed for that kind of partnership. Years of forced compliance, and he’d finally seen what a real bond looked like.

But letting go of all I’d known meant admitting I’d been wrong about control and the bonds. About everything I’d based my identity on. It meant trusting someone other than myself, and I didn’t know how to do that.

If I fell, would anyone catch me?

My skin felt too aware and sweat slicked my palms. Each breath caught on a place in my chest that wouldn’t release.

It was time to stop fighting. One choice. That was all this was. One choice to stop and feel instead of force.

I walked over to Aristus and cupped his cheeks the way I’d seen Eradin hold Selira. When I scratched his jaw, he rumbled with pleasure.

I saw myself at twelve, forcing Aristus to fly through a thunderstorm because my mother had demanded I complete the training exercise. He’d been terrified, but I’d made him do it anyway.

I saw myself at sixteen, jerking the reins so hard the leather ripped at his scales. He’d bled. The harness had hidden most of his pain, but not all of it. I’d felt the echo of agony and told myself it was necessary, that this was how bonds worked.

I saw last month, when his wing had started trembling, and I’d convinced myself it was fine. That he just needed rest. Because acknowledging the problem meant admitting I’d broken him, and I couldn’t afford that weakness.

Shame burned through me hotter than any flame.

It was dragon-simple. Protect what matters.