Ravel stood and offered me a hand. "Try it tonight. Practice dimming and brightening the connections instead of trying to cut them. See if that works and if it stops the drain."
I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. For a moment, we stood close, his hand still holding mine, and I felt that pull between us again. The connection I didn't understand, and that made me uncomfortable.
I pulled away. "We should get back."
"We should."
The flight back was quieter. I sat in front of Ravel, trying not to think about how I could still feel his emotions through Onyx. The concern, the protectiveness, the duty. The attraction that he acknowledged but shoved into a corner of his mind, the same way I was doing with my response to it.
It didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. I loved Alar. That was the only truth that mattered.
As we landed on the platform, I dismounted and stood there awkwardly, not sure how to end this. My hand automatically went to check my weapon, a nervous habit I'd developed since the explosion.
"Thank you for the advice about managing the connections."
He nodded. "Let me know if it works."
"I will." I turned to leave.
"Kailin."
I looked at him over my shoulder. "Yes?"
"You're going to be fine at the Day of Volition." His expression was earnest, open in a way I rarely saw. "I have complete faith in you."
The words warmed something in my chest that had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with being seen. Not as the Hero of Elucia or the future shaman or part of some prophecy. Just as me.
"Thank you," I said again, and this time I meant it for more than just the training advice.
As I walked back to my quarters, my hand on my weapon, my mind working on how to practice dimming and brightening the animal connections tonight, I felt something I hadn't felt in weeks.
Hope.
Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could manage my abilities, survive the bonding, and become the rider and shaman everyone needed me to be.
29
ALAR
"To forge one's own destiny, one must first break free from the shackles of family obligations and expectations."
—Prince Alaranthus Tekumuton the Fifth
Iwasn't expecting mail.
The first-years had been at the Citadel for over two months, and so far, most had received only one letter from home. It wasn't that people didn't write to their loved ones; letters just weren't delivered frequently.
An explanation had been provided about the need to forge a cohesive unit that required isolation from former connections. We were allowed to write as many letters as we wished, but we'd been told that they would be delivered only once a month. I'd been careful with my wording in the letters I sent to my fakemerchant family, describing life as a cadet in the Dragon Force without giving out details that might get my letters confiscated.
When the second-year cadet walked into the mess hall during dinner, carrying a bag with the symbol of Elucian mail on its side, all the other cadets got excited, but I thought nothing of it. My parents wouldn't write back to me.
"Mail!" the second-year announced.
Kailin straightened beside me. "I hope my grandmother sent me a letter as well as my parents."
I put my hand over hers on the table. "I'm sure she did. She sent you one last month."
The officer began calling names. "Cadet Strom. I have two letters for you."
