The open windowpanes thump gently against the wall as a cold wind scrapes over me. I’d vaguely thought about lighting a fire in the hearth but lost my motivation the moment I curled up with my birds. Now the room is frigid, and it’s either shiver the night away or get up and close the window.
Groaning, I drag myself out of bed and half-stumble across the room. Another chilly breeze blows in, and I lift my head, breathe deeply, and embrace the shock of it almost as a punishment. I feel like such a failure right now that a wind-lashing seems entirely appropriate. I allowed Rim to fly into danger. I let vampires draw my blood for the first time in two hundred and twenty-six years of existence. The team had to rescue me and fly me home—again. I can’t shake my feelings for Bale. Instead of crushing them into nothing, they continue to grow.
I stare out the window, disappointed in myself and shaking with cold. The night sky is clear and full of stars, Cealastra’s constellation the biggest and brightest. It’s shaped like a giant bird—wings flared, beak sharp and dangerous, talons reaching, its shining eye the Star of Ellonrift. I think it’s where Bale got the idea for creating our phoenixes. They were as much an enduring army for him as a homage to her. It pleased the goddess at first, the warbirds’ everlife so strong with her blessing and the light of her star that no one could ever have imagined an uncertain rebirth.
Now it’s a worry that never leaves me.
Sighing, I lower my gaze to Drayke. A few lights still flicker far below, but the city mostly sleeps, just as I should be doing. To the right of the city, the forest and lake are dark, but the School of Fire and Flight sits off to the far side of the Upper Valley, its high towers blazing with light.
I stare at the beacons, my jaw hardening until my teeth grind. Always lit. Always bright. Those towers are a symbol of strength and power. The soldiers of Torridaig all train there before either applying to be stationed somewhere around the kingdom or returning to protect their homes. Rita and Gerard must’ve expected me to go back to Glarraden once I’d finished school, if not exactly to the house—where I’m sure they didn’t want me anyway. Even I expected it. I never thought I’d catch the eye of the Dragon King or become a member of the Elite Wing.
Yet here I am. And it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. It gave me my phoenixes. My family. My friends.
Bale.
I reach out and close the two wide, mullioned-glass panels to hold in the heat my firebirds will generate. I don’t latch them, always aware of my birds and their need to go out—to hunt, to see to their personal needs, to fly. I’ll never put a lock between them and freedom. But I don’t need a cold wind blowing over me, either.
Turning, I hurry back to bed. I slip under the covers, angling between Rim and Sol and giving Fyrestar my icy feet. I keep shivering despite their warmth and don’t close my eyes. If I do, I know I’ll see vampire fangs and frenzied eyes.
Fyrestar increases his inner heat, slowly taking the frozen edge off my feet. “I think you swayed all the way back to bed,” he remarks.
“I was dancing.” It’s a bald-faced lie he’s not supposed to believe. Blood loss is no joke, though I do feel steadier since that soup Bale brought me.
I bite my lip and try not to think about the rest, but I feel Bale’s hand on mine again, his amber eyes steady and encouraging.
“You’re not funny,” Fyrestar grumbles.
“I’m hilarious.”
A mind-to-mind snort is an odd sound, and one Fyrestar doesn’t make often. He stares at me from the foot of the bed, the liquid gold of his eyes our only light. “You don’t have to be alone, you know. We won’t think you love us any less just because you let someone else in.”
My heart yanks sharply across my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” All I did was close the window.
And not sleep for hours.
And maybe cry a tiny bit. I thought he was asleep.
“I’m talking about Bale. He looks at you and can’t look away. He doesn’t want to leave. It was never more obvious than today. And he carried you. Kellan wanted to bring you home, and Bale just about ripped off his head.”
I roll my lips in, pressing hard. Voice low with emotion, I rasp, “You’re all I need.”
“Life’s not just about what you need. You should have what you want. I can hear your heart pound when Bale is near—and I’m sure he can too.”
Stupid, unruly muscle. It pummels my ribs right now.
At least I’m abruptly warmer. “Please stop.”
“Because talking about it makes it real?”
I nod, tears like thorny spikes behind my eyes. I swallow down the heat in my throat. “If I can ignore it, I can just live. I was doing a good job of ignoring it before. I think I can again, as long as you stop bringing it up like this.”
“‘Just living’ isn’t much of a life, especially when it’s as long as yours.”
I curl my hands into my blanket. “I’m not ready for anything to change.”
“Change is inevitable. You shouldn’t fear it. It’s what makes up a life—and makes it interesting.”
“Change isn’t always for the better.”
