Page 232 of Feralheart

One lady pointed to the top and kicked her dragon in the sides, urging her to fly upward. The beast’s wings flapped at a feverish pace as the rider drove her higher and higher. They came to a shuddering halt and the dragon’s wings seized. Its collar blazed pure white, and every pillar lit in response. Magical threads wavered out from the structures, connecting to the collar. They pulled taut.

The rider’s scream rang out as the two fell. The bodies bounced against the jagged slope until they landed hard on the bone-strewn canyon base with a wet smack. Bone fragments scattered and dust shot up around them before they settled among the other riders who hadn’t made it through the Scorching.

Dead on impact.

Bile rushed up into my throat, but I forced it back down.

She’d done exactly what I would’ve done an hour ago. Assessed the trial, found the most direct route, and committed to it completely. The Scorching had trained us to think that way. Move fast. Take ground. Hesitate and lose.

It had trained us to die in the most efficient way possible.

“We’ll climb,” I said. “No flying. Stick to the path between the structures.” I glanced at the others. “Stay together. Watch out for each other.”

The elite must’ve come to the same conclusion, because they started up the path, riding their dragons. Lady Severine took the lead on Heartsbrim, the ruby dragon’s wings beating hard to keep up the agitated pace she demanded with her whip. Lord Cedric followed her, his face grim.

A woman in House Mireille leathers who hadn’t spoken to anyone since the second lake kicked her dragon, forcing it up the slope after Lord Cedric, followed by a man whose name I didn’t know but whose dragon had lost half its tail somewhere in one of the trials and was compensating with every wingbeat.

Lord Blair and the others kept to the rear, the lord’s head tilted back as he studied the summit.

Four elite teams reduced to fragments. What remained of us wasn’t a race anymore. It was a thinning.

Vella looked back, holding my gaze long enough to turn it into a statement, before turning forward and kicking her dragon in the sides.

Aristus’s carried us up the first section easily. Without the saddle restricting him, he could move. His muscles bunched and released smoothly beneath me.

Eradin came behind me, followed by Reece. Lyndie took the rear.

We urged our dragons higher, talons scrambling across bones and smooth stone, wings flapping to add momentum.

I leaned forward, clutching the spike jutting up between Aristus’s shoulders.

Every time Aristus’s wings drove us higher, the motion twisted my side. I’d stopped feeling the wound as pain. Now only a dull coldness deadened my shoulder.

My thighs were already burning. Without the saddle, every movement Aristus made transmitted directly into my body. His muscles bunched beneath me, released, and bunched again. Each wingbeat shifted his spine. I had to compensate or slide backward.

Only the neck spike kept me on his back. My hands cramped around it, my grip so tight my knuckles had gone numb.

Aristus’s breathing deepened. His lungs could fill all the way now, and he climbed the way dragons were meant to, faster than any collared dragon straining above us.

We’d only gone a short distance when a hum vibrated through the air. The pillars shuddered and screamed.

The sound burrowed into my skull and vibrated my teeth.

Pressure built behind my eyes until my vision blurred.

Aristus lurched beneath me, his wings stuttering mid-beat. His confusion spiked into terror. Something was pulling at him from the inside, trying to swallow him whole.

Every dragon other than Selira faltered at the same time, their wings losing rhythm and their eyes glazing.

My stomach dropped.

Only Selira moved steady, unaffected.

Through what remained of our bond, I felt Aristus’s attention snap toward her.

The hum deepened around us, throbbing through my bones, and the runes etched into the collars blazed blue-white. Lines of spindly light connected the collars to the pillars.

One ahead flared, sending out wavering feelers, and I shielded my eyes from the glare. The dragon it touched convulsed. Its wings locked, spiked outward. The dragon’s guttural groan rang out, and the rider shrieked.