Page 91 of Feralheart

“I already am.”

He blinked before leaning back in his chair. His smile showed all teeth. “Pray to the fates for luck. You’re going to need it. Make sure you follow the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The rules.”

“Let me see them.”

“I don’t have a copy for commons.”

“Why not? We’re competing.”

He gave me a slick grin and flapped his hand toward the door. “Go. Don’t pester me any longer.”

I wanted to press him for more but I also didn’t want to die, so I turned and left, grumbling under my breath.

Outside, I paused and folded the form, tucking it into my pocket beside the scale. The paper crinkled against dragon-bone, both of them warm with promises I didn’t know how to keep.

Lyndie stood a short distance away, gaping between me and where the clerk remained inside. “What just happened? He sounded upset.”

“Nothing.” I strode past her and kept walking until I reached a corridor junction where I could stop without blocking traffic. People moved around me, servants and officials and guards, all of them staring at the commons who shouldn’t exist.

I’d registered a dragon I didn’t have. Couldn’t have. A wild dragon who’d claimed me across distance and stone and every law that said it shouldn’t happen.

Selira was wild, illegal, and impossible.

And I’d just promised to ride her.

I ignored the stares and took the stairs to our room, stepping inside. My bag still sat on the floor beside my bed, where I’d left it.

I sat on the bed with it on my lap and tugged out the riding leathers, rising to hang them on a hook on the back of the door. Black, fitted, and reinforced at the knees and elbows.

I stripped off my cloth tunic and pants and pulled on the leathers. They settled against my skin like a caress. After strapping the talon-blade to my side, I caught my reflection in the mirror.

This was a woman who’d kept herself small, a stable hand who’d learned invisibility meant survival. But this woman could also be someone who fought. Who bled. Who registered an illegal dragon and dared the system to stop her.

My hand lifted toward the mirror. Would Mother have recognized me? Would she have been proud, or would she have seen what I was struggling to be and mourned what I might lose in the process?

The thought cracked my chest wide open.

I dropped my hand to my side and walked to the door before the crack could spread.

The fortress corridors felt narrower now. The walls were closing in or I’d expanded to fill more space.

I passed nobles in their finery. Servants carrying trays. Guards posted at intersections.

None tried to stop me.

After checking to make sure the hallway behind me was empty, I pushed through a rear fortress door, stepping out into morning air that smelled of warm grass and pine.

The scale in my pocket burned warmer.

I ducked and hurried through the gardens until I reached the path leading down the eastern side of the mountain. After making sure I wasn’t followed, I entered the cool, damp forest where commons were forbidden, stepping on the path winding past the fortress’s eastern wall. The sun had risen, but it never completely touched this part of the world. Gray light filtered through the canopy, turning everything soft and uncertain.

Below the eastern switchback, the old quarry road curved away from the mountain toward the border passes and other kingdoms, the sea I’d only ever heard described.

A rustling ahead made me duck behind a tree, peering that way.