Page 53 of Burning Heir

I needed time to think, but my blistered fingers uncurled without thought. “I accept your bond,” I said.

Then Naraic blew a breath of fire at my fingers, marking my right palm with an intricate relic of flames that swooped between my knuckles. My hands tightened as a gag of ash shoved between my teeth, rising through my aching lungs. A tether synched, and something in my ribs snapped in place.

Ciaran watched me from afar, bowing low. “A bond to Naraic is a bond to Ciaran,” Archer said low. “Two dragons, one soul.”

I nodded at the same dragon who’d turned Bridger’s icy daggers into shadowed dust. Those wings I’d felt along my bare spine as I lay there.

“You found him,”the same voice whispered.“I knew you were brave.”

It was her leading me here to find her brother—and mine. The thought nearly had my eyes filled with tears. She’d saved me that night. Kept me warm under her wings.

I turned to stare at Archer. “I heard her in my mind.”

Archer reached for my arm, twisting my palm to stare at the swirl of flame. “We must bond too, but we’ll do that when neitheris covered in blood. Enigma bonding can be draining. Rider bonding can be deadly and… personal.”

“Bridger mentioned rider bonds were forbidden,” I said.

“There are three types of bonds, and I don’t care to explain them. You can manage your own research.”

My head whirled. I couldn’t remember how to walk. I stared at Archer, knowing beyond those eyes was sheer annoyance, knowing I was the last person he wanted to bond with. “This is a lot to take in,” I whispered. “That’s why you saved me at the Rite? Because of Klaus.”

Naraic and Ciaran huffed before taking off into the skies. Archer dropped my hand. “You should rest,” he said firmly.

I didn’t want to rest. I wanted to understand this. “How did I save Naraic? Was he trapped in some petrified state?”

His voice was low. “The same way you saved Myla. You possess a forbidden quell, meaning if anyone finds out your dragon is Naraic, they will wonder how a dead dragon rose from the grave.”

A wave of sickness washed over me. “Myla wasdead,” I said, stepping back, nearly tripping over my damp boots. “They’ll strip me of my quell like my mother.”

And from his silence, I suspected he knew that part.

Archer gave a cruel, arrogant smirk. “Just stay out of my way. No one must know about Naraic. We say you bonded with a cousin of his if any of the third-years recognize his scales.”

I tucked my head between my knees. “I’m going to be sick,” I said.

Archer threw a cool shadow atop me, simmering that flame inside my rolling guts. “You are inheriting Klaus’s flame at his advanced level. The hardest part will be controlling it and keeping yourself… cool. It takes most students months for their quell to slay a beast.”

Through the gleam of darkness, I met his eyes. “Am I still in the run for my father’s title?” I’d willed flame—breathed ash. I was a beast in the eyes of the Winter wards.

“No, a fire quell can not exist within Winter’s lands. You are in the run for my father, Victor Lynch, as the heir to Ravensla. Damien Lynch will become your student mentor. Immediately.” He pressed his lips together. “Since you two are well acquainted already, hopefully, he won’t consider you a rival.”

And if I hadn’t shattered yet, I had now.

Damien was my rival.

Chapter Twelve

Cold sweats awakened me, the skin on my backside slicked, stuck to the cotton sheets of the cabin bed. The wrath of yesterday edged my memories as I stared at the bloodied sheets Archer threw into a pile.

I stepped into the rays of dawn. Archer had mounted Ciaran. Her wings flattened across the sandy path as Naraic sprawled behind her. His wings healed slightly overnight, the bone no longer twined with flesh and visible veins.

“I’d suggest putting your slacks back on to avoid scale rash. But I have a few ointments that can help if you insist on flying back to campus like that.” The humor was back in his eyes—healed as if a restful sleep was all he needed. He looked stronger, and I didn’t know that was possible.

Was the Serpent of Shadows weakened for two years? Was I seeing the flesh of a new man dressed in unscathed leather?

Heat rose to my cheeks. Yesterday’s clothes reeked. I’d deal with scale rash if it meant I wouldn’t have to slide my legs through crusted slacks.

“How do I… get on the dragon?” I asked, staring at the creature.

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