“I, ah, was wondering if dragon bonds could affect dreams.”
Professor Indigo inhaled but looked to Bryce to answer. He pursed his lips a moment, then said, “Shouldn’t. The emotional pulls and tugs we feel when we’re near them are only possible over short distances.”
Indigo nodded. “Ever notice how you don’t feel Myth once you get back inside the school?”
I nodded. I hadn’t really thought about it until now. “So, I couldn’t be feeling Myth’s emotions while I’m asleep. In the school.”
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Indigo leaned forward and muttered, “The stress of first year can do strange things to a person’s mind.” She offered me a warm smile and patted me on the back.
When the next nightmare woke me, I was certain it wasn’t related to stress.
My chest physically ached, and I couldn’t recall actually having any bad dreams. In fact, not a single nightmare came to mind, only vague feelings of fear and anger, but nothing more concrete than that.
Climbing from bed, I slipped on one shoe, then the other, grabbed the spare wool blanket from the top of my armoire, wrapped it around my shoulders, and tiptoed into the hall.
The grounds were silent and damp, and my heart beat faster with each step. The feeling of fear was growing stronger as I neared the lair.
Myth.
I nearly fell over as a burst of anxiety lanced through me. He was in danger.
Then I was charging through the darkness in my white nightgown like a ghoul haunting the school grounds.
Breathing became difficult as Myth’s tension rose. I sucked in the cool, damp air, feet sticking in the wet earth as I plowed my way up the path, blindly following the sensations pulling me forward.
A dim light shone from beneath the door to Myth’s den. Shadows danced from within.
“Myth!” I heaved the door open.
A curse hissed through the night as the door slid open.
Glass shattered on the stone, and Rushland Covington spun on his heel.
CHAPTER 14
“What are you doing?” I bellowed, frozen in shock in the doorway.
“None of your business.” His white shirt was half-unbuttoned.
“That’smydragon.” I stomped forward, struck by how warm the den was. The blanket around my shoulders slipped down to my elbows. Myth was pacing back and forth, but as soon as I entered, his pulsing fear ebbed. “It’s okay,” I soothed, edging around the broken glass. “I’m here now.”
I reached for Myth’s long face and pressed my forehead to him. His scales were warmer than usual. “What were you doing to my dragon?”
From my periphery, I saw Covington grab something off the floor.
“I wasn’t doing anything to him,” he snapped.
“Liar.”
“Saints, Miro.” He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, where sweat was dampening his hairline. “You’re the liar.”
My hands stiffened against Myth’s face.
“This dragon still has his flame, and I’m going to prove it.”
My brow pinched and I turned slowly to face the duke’s son. “Did you take this up with the breeder we purchased him from?”
Covington waved a folded slip of paper at me. “This breeder? His letter says he never sold a black and gold dragon to a Merlon Fairfax.”
