The door opens. Dragana enters with bread and tea, her sharp eyes taking in my state with a single glance.
“You should eat.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not fine. Sit.”
It’s not a request. I’ve learned not to argue when she uses that tone.
I sit.
She sets the food in front of me, then settles onto the opposite stool. The silence stretches while I force myself to take a bite of bread my stomach doesn’t want.
“You look worse than yesterday,” she says finally.
“Gee, thanks. Really boosting my self-esteem here.”
“I am not insulting you, child. I am observing.” She tilts her head. “The injury to your shoulder—how long has it troubled you?”
“Since yesterday.” I touch it gingerly. The bruising’s spread overnight, deep purple creeping across my collarbone. “Landed on it during the fight.”
“Show me.”
I hesitate, then pull up my shirt. The sight that greets me makes bile rise in my throat. It’s not just my shoulder. The cut across my torso has deepened overnight, the edges gaping.
Dragana’s expression darkens.
“Shit,” I say. “They must have got me worse than I thought.”
She shakes her head. “This wound is at least a week old.”
I stare at her. “No, it’s not. I literally just—”
“You are mistaken.” Her tone allows no argument. “The bruising pattern, the tissue damage, the way the inflammation has spread. This happened days ago, not yesterday.”
The bread goes dry in my mouth.
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” She leans back, crossing her arms. “Tell me about the helicopter crash. What happened to you?”
The question throws me. “I… My chest was crushed. Couldn’t breathe. K pulled me out and—”
“And healed you.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“You guess.” The dryness in her voice could start fires. “What do you remember of the healing?”
“Not much. I was passing in and out. But when I woke up, the pain was gone. Mostly. I could breathe again.” I frown. “Why does this matter?”
“Because dragon fire does more than mend bone and tissue.” She leans forward, her ancient eyes holding mine. “Some dragons have a special gift. The gift of healing. And when they use their power to heal someone on the verge of death, they forge a connection. A bond.”
The word lands wrong. Too big. Too permanent.
“A bond?”
“Their power sustains the injured person. Anchors them to life while the body finishes repairing itself.” Her expression is grave. “But when the dragon is no longer near…”
