“Why? Do you have them?”
Bale shrugs. “Sometimes.”
If even the Dragon King has nightmares, what chance do I have of escaping them?
“It really was just a strange dream,” I finally say. “Things I recognized. Things I didn’t.”
“And the scream?”
The sickening feeling of dangling from that high-up dormitory window swoops over me again. None of the Elite Wing were at school with me; I’m much younger than they are. They were already seasoned warriors before I was dumped on the doorstep of Glarraden House with only a bag of gold and a name. I’m not sure exactly what they know about my years at the Drayke School of Fire and Flight, though rumors fly as fast as dragon shifters, and I’ve no doubt they’ve heard some. Bale too. But I’m not interested in digging for sympathy, and the idea of telling Bale that I was mercilessly bullied for five years tempts me about as much as pricking open a vein and sauntering into Bloodwold. “I dreamt I was falling.”
“Off your warbird?” He frowns.
“Out a window.”
“At Glarraden House?”
I exhale sharply. “Can we just stop? It doesn’t matter now.”
He moves closer. I think he’s about to reach for my hand, but then my heart thumps ferociously, and he stops. Dragon heat ignites in his eyes. “Who do I punish?”
My chest lurches. “Punish?”
“Who tried to throw you out a window? Who do I throw out a window now?”
Staring at him, I barely breathe, my pulse pounding harder than dragon wings. I glance at Bale’s hand, wishing it would move toward mine again as much as I wish he wasn’t even here. He used to keep to himself all the time. That was so much easier. I never knew how much I wanted him with me until he was.
“I don’t have fire or flight.” My voice not steady at all, I add, “If someone had tossed me out a window, I’d be dead.”
The fire rolling in his eyes doesn’t dim. “So it was at school.”
It’s not a question. “And a long time ago, Bale. It doesn’t matter anymore.” I don’t mention the multiple times. Or the times they almost dropped me. He might already know.
“You took revenge all on your own.” There’s pride in his voice. It helps repair my frayed nerves.
I nod. I took the last, coveted spot in the Dragon King’s personal squadron. The Elite Wing was my revenge.
“Why didn’t you fight back? At school, I mean. You would’ve won.”
I sigh. Once I had a bit of official training under my belt, it usually took a real effort to lose. Losing didn’t win me any points with the other students, though, especially when they just complained about having to fight in skin all the time because of Bloodwold vampires, so I went back to winning. Skin was all I had, and I was happier winning than trying to make friends with people who didn’t even want me there.
“I was afraid I’d kill someone,” I admit. “You know how it is when I’m free, as you said before. My mind is a few steps behind my body sometimes, and I didn’t want a dead student—or ten—on my hands.”
“So you let them do what they wanted?”
From his questions, it’s obvious Bale already knows most of what I’m not saying. I wonder who reported to him and why. The headmistress? She was kind enough to me, but still couldn’t wait until I left. “They just wanted my gold. The dragon in them…” I shrug, and the half-smile that touches my mouth actually feels real.
His expression softens, his slight smile echoing mine, and the icy nugget of fear still lodged in my chest melts. The one in my stomach—blood thief central—doesn’t budge.
I almost scratch the fresh scabs on my neck before forcing my hand down.
“Are you ready for the Council?” I ask. “It’s getting close.”
Bale’s eyes glint in the dark. “Not many people change the subject on me as boldly as you.”
“I like to keep you on your toes.” I spread my hands. “Or talons.”
“Or both.” His low chuckle doesn’t last. “As ready as I’ll ever be. At least we have those Bloodwold prisoners.”
