Page 13 of Flameborne: Fury
Ronen stared at me and my guts knotted again, but he didn’t push.
“Thank you for seeing me so early,” he said quietly, offering a salute. I chided him about it again, but ushered him out, feeling crushed at the deceit. The man didn’t deserve it.
When he was gone, trotting down the stairs to the lower floors, I returned to the window where I’d stood when I was speaking with Kgosi and looked out over the Keep.
The distant academy buildings gleamed black in the sunlight beyond the stables.
The stables. The launch hollow. The barracks. All of it. It was all mine to lead. Which meant, it was all mine to corrupt.
Without thought, my eyes tripped to the stable, specifically the eastern end where Kgosi was. I thought of her curled up, asleep, in that little room.
Her head snapped back with my name on her lips. Under my palm her skin goosebumped—
“Fuck!”
I shook off the memory of the dream and all it might mean, but kept my eyes on that stable. I made myself conjure what was likely around the corner for Bren, if we’d assessed her correctly.
Then my dragon’s words from the night before crept back into my head.
…what if God gaveyoutoher?
I grunted. Kgosi could be wrong.
He had to be.
Surely the Creator would never ask me to endure that?
‘I heard that.’
‘You were supposed to. I need you to agree with me.’
‘About what?’
‘That you’re wrong. That I’m wrong. That she could never be asked to do this.’
‘Why would you believe—’
‘I’m not ignoring our conversation last night, Keg. I’m trying to accommodate it. But one of these things has to be wrong. Surely God wouldn’t give me a… a…”Fuck, I couldn’t even think the word. I swallowed hard.‘A mate. AmateI should not have.Then remove her from me? Surely?!’
Kgosi didn’t respond, except to send another rush of warm comfort.
Which was his very dragon way of politely telling me I was full of shit.
5. Haunted
~ BREN ~
A week later, my squad was in class and I was miserable. And getting tense as they tested me.
“Come on, Bren. Concentrate. We covered this,” Ronen said, only a hint of impatience filtering through his calm. “Try again. The difference between the Flyer, Flame, and Fang wings? And be as detailed as you can.”
Ihatedthat they all stared—even Einar, who looked bored and a little pissed off at the best of times, but now was glowering.
I swallowed hard. “All three wings are battle ready, manned with Furyknights trained to fight and protect,” I said, reciting as closely as I could what I remembered from earlier lectures. Ronen nodded, but didn’t offer any other prompts. I swallowed hard. “They’re all soldiers and can be called to battle. But Flyers are used the least in combat.”
“Why?” Ronen pressed. “And don’t forget the dragons.”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “Because their job is to be the air at all times and the bulk of our battles engage with ground troops. The dragons,” I nodded. “All colors of dragons are in all Wings. But in the Flyers, the golds often becomemessengers between strategic base and fighting ranks because they can reach the furthest telepathically with messages. The green are healers or trackers who can still fight if they need to. The others are fighters who focus on in-air combat.”
