I thought I understood what bonding meant. I understood nothing. It is a merging of souls, all pain laid bare, all grief shared, all hope kindled together, all joy doubled. To be bonded is to be fully known and fully accepted. It is the deepest friendship imaginable, and it is eternal.
—From the journal of Kailin Strom
The voices were everywhere.
I did my best not to listen. The conversations between dragons and cadets were supposed to be private, but my gift didn't come with an off switch. Every telepathic communication within range flowed into my mind. I had learned how to block them, but it was difficult in my depleted state. I wastired, I was distraught from the nightmare, and I was worried for Alar.
I forced myself to stop listening.
Instead, I focused on the dragons who left without choosing anyone. They were easier to hear because they weren't directing their thoughts at specific cadets. Their communication was open, broadcast to anyone with the ability to receive it.
"None of them,"a cobalt dragon murmured as it spread its wings to depart.
I waited until a pale gold dragon passed near me on its way to launch, then reached out with my mind.
"Why didn't you choose anyone?"
The dragon paused, turning one enormous eye toward me. It regarded me for a long moment before responding.
"Other than you, no one heard me.Theright one was not present."
I wanted to ask how he knew that I wasn't the right one. After all I had heard them all, but the truth was that I hadn't felt anything special, and the same must have been true for them.
Evidently, not only cadets could leave the ceremony disappointed. Dragons could too.
Three more groups came and went. The line of cadets grew shorter, for which I was thankful because many of my classmates had found the right dragon to bond with, but no one in my quintet had been chosen yet.
Trying to remain optimistic, I hoped that the best dragons were saved for last.
I glanced toward Alar, who was standing a few paces to my left, and as he felt me looking at him, he turned and gave me a small, encouraging nod. He was doing his best to project calm, but I knew him too well to be fooled. I could see the tension in his posture and the worry in his eyes.
It will happen, I projected toward him even though I knew he couldn't hear my mental voice.Be patient. Your dragon is coming.
Another group descended from the clouds.
Five dragons, four typical of those who had come before them, but one stood out. He was massive, as large as Onyx, perhaps larger. His scales were deep blue, shot through with veins of crimson that looked like someone had painted thunder strikes on him.
When he landed and started his lumbering walk down the line of the remaining cadets, I was mesmerized by his eyes. They burned with intelligence but also pent-up rage.
I knew who he was, even though I had never seen him before.
Morgateth.
He radiated danger, and his presence was so enormous that it pressed against my mind even though he hadn't said anything yet. Not to me and not to anyone else.
I glanced left and right to gauge the reaction of the other cadets to him, and it seemed that he had a similar effect on them, including members of my quintet. Even Alar's shoulders tensed, and Codric had taken an involuntary step back.
Shovia, who was further down the line, had been waiting to catch my eye, and as soon as I looked at her, she shook her head, communicating a warning to stay away from the enormous dragon.
But it wasn't up to me, and it wasn't up to Morgateth either. We were either fated to bond or not.
His burning gaze swept the line of cadets and settled on me. For a long moment, he simply stared, those crimson-veined eyes boring into mine with an intensity that should have been frightening but wasn't.
Beneath the rage and the aura of menace, I saw something that the others couldn't perceive.
An ocean of pain.
Grief so profound it had calcified into fury. Loss so devastating it had become armor. Morgateth was not a monster. He was someone who had felt deeply and lost repeatedly, who had watched rider after rider die and blamed himself for each death.
