Page 104 of Wild Bond

I shivered. Rake had never looked at me that way before. Like I was dirt, worse than dirt. A lying criminal like everyone else.

“I-I’m not protecting anyone,” I protested, my voice rising. “Rake, please—”

Any further words were drowned out by the gasps and murmurs of the crowd at my disrespectful address. Rake’s jaw tightened in the way it did when he was masking true anger, and I knew the use of the familiar name had been a mistake.

Rake stood, and even Naasir’s head rose as he glared down at me from behind his rider.

“Dungeon master,” Rake called, addressing Holt as the man lumbered over from where he had been waiting with the other prisoners. “Take this prisoner back to the keep. Perhaps a few more years in her cell will jog her memory.”

“Yes, Rider,” Holt bowed. He wasn’t even trying to mask the smugly pleased grin on his face as he reached for me.

I stepped out of his reach. “Rake, wait!” I pleaded. How had this all gone so wrong? “Please, you know me! We’re—well . . . I become a dragon rider and we—"

“You’re not a dragon rider,” Rake interrupted me. His face now that blank mask I hated as he stared down at me in condemnation. “You are a thief and a liar, and you are wasting my time.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

He nodded at Holt, and the man grabbed me before I could resist. He began dragging me away. I felt a sensation in the back of my mind like a throbbing headache but more insistent.

“Rake!” I screamed. I had to get him to listen to me, but he had already turned away. “Rake!”

“Quiet, scum!” Holt snapped, pulling hard at my arm, and making me stumble. “It’s back to the dungeon with you.”

That familiar panic began to rise in me as I thought of returning to my cell. To the darkness. Where I was alone, so alone. But then I remembered . . . I had felt this way before. This fear . . . this wasn’t the first time. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my emotions and think rationally. Something about this whole thing felt off. Then another thought hit me. Wait, where was Skye? Skye was supposed to be—

And just like that, I could feel her again. Skye. My dragon. The real dragon that Ihadbonded with in my world, in my reality. Not this horrible alternate one I found myself in.

This wasn’t real. This was a trial—the trial meant to test the bond, to test me and whether or not I could master myself and my emotions. Whether I was worthy of the gift that was my dragon, and the power that came along with it.

Ignoring what was going on around me, I focused instead on the bond—on Skye and that channel that connected me straight to her. This time, I found it with ease. Once again, I felt that pull, that warm tug that directed me where I needed to go.

Without a second thought, I used a maneuver Dembe had taught me and broke free of Holt’s grasp. Then I began to run.

I disregarded anything I saw around me, no longer trusting my eyes—like that man had warned me not to. Instead, I trained all my focus on the bond. On what I felt.

I left the square behind, and the illusion or memory or whatever it was dissolved completely. I was left only with the misty fog and the plain stone walls of the maze.

This time I didn’t make any mistakes or wrong turns. I ran directly to where the bond led me. Right to Skye. The maze tried several more times to ensnare me in old memories or warped scenarios born from my deepest insecurities, but I refused to acknowledge them, unmoved from my goal.

The moment Skye came into view, I put on a burst of speed. I couldn’t help the smile that split my face as she lifted her head and roared in victory.

She lowered her head just as I reached her, and I wrapped my arms tightly around her muzzle. She crooned and huffed in satisfaction as I rested my forehead against the warmth of her jade scales, just breathing her in.

“Thank you,” I murmured against her skin and felt her love surround me in the bond.

“Well done, Rider,” a voice congratulated from behind me.

I released Skye and whirled to find the same man from before standing behind me. He had the same smirk on his face and was still rolling that damned gold coin between his fingers. I opened my mouth to reply when I noticed that what the man was flipping between his fingers wasn’t gold, but silver, and that it wasn’t a coin at all this time . . . but a ring.

Myring. The ring that Rake had given me.

“Hey, give that back!” I insisted, glaring at him. “When . . . how did you—”

“Stealing is somewhat of a skill set of mine,” he said, that shrewd smirk once again making an appearance. “I can’t seem to help myself. My apologies.” To my surprise, he flipped the ring back towards me.

I caught it in one hand, inspecting it before glancing back up.

Of course, he was gone.

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