“So that’s it, is it? You’re just going to send me to the island to be eaten?”
Three weeks. She’s supposed to go and claim a dragon in just under three weeks—and what does that even mean? She is breathing too fast. She knows she is, but she can’t seem to stop. She needs to get out. She needs to run, get some space, think. She needs to get rid of this pressure, building inside her.
She turns, then shoves at Axel as he moves in front of her. He grabs her shoulders, pinning her against her bedroom wall in one swift movement. The room is still blurry, but his face is inches from hers and his green eyes are laser sharp.
“Calm. Down.”
She takes a breath. Then another. Feels an oddly soothing sensation ripple through her, chasing away the panic. He watches her as it happens, like he’s waiting for something.
And it’s gone. The panic is gone. He told her to calm down—and she did.
She understands now why he was assigned to her.
“You’re an Influencer.” And it’s not her actions he’s controlling—it’s her emotions.
His lips press together, but he doesn’t deny it as he eases back from her. And, oh, this is so much worse than an Influencer who can control your actions—because at least then you know it’s happening. But heremotions. You’re supposed to be able to trust how you feel—and he’s taking that away from her. It explains why she felt so calm the first night.
She feels sick. It’s an invasion, and all this time, she hasn’t knownhe’s been doing it. She knows the disgust must be evident on her face from the way his expression tightens.
“Whatever it is you’re about to say, get over it.” His gaze holds hers, and although she wants to, Skylar finds she can’t look away. He takes one step back toward her, forcing her to tilt her head to look up at him. His eyes scan her face, and he looks for a moment like he’s considering offering some kind of explanation or even—Arach forbid—an apology.
Then he shakes his head, and his eyes find hers once more. “All that matters now is proving you are worthy of a dragon.”
Early the next morning, while the sun is still low and red in the sky, Axel leads her through the castle grounds. It takes them a full thirty minutes before they reach their destination—and neither of them say a word to each other the whole time. She hasn’t forgotten what he can do—what he’sbeendoing. She doesn’t know how she’s ever supposed to trust her feelings around him again.
Axel slows as they reach a line of Dreki up ahead. Skylar can’t make out what’s immediately behind them, but in the near distance she can see the castle wall, towering above them. So, they must be close to the outermost grounds. The wall is so high she has to crane her neck to see the top of it. Small parts of it are crumbling away, probably due to damage from the dragons over the years. It’s impossible to climb, unless you have a death wish.
Axel nods to the Dreki and they part, creating a corridor to walk through.
Skylar looks up. In between the Dreki and the wall is a large, open space, stretching out in all directions. Arena seating spreads upward, encircling them, stretching up nearly as high as the wall itself. It’s eerily quiet, though something about the space seems to pulse with energy.
“This is the arena,” Axel says, confirming her suspicion. “On the day of the duel, you’ll enter a cage right here. It will be locked with magic once you and the witch are inside—and it will only open when one of you dies.” Skylar tries to imagine it—the cage, the duel, what it will actually entail. But it’s like her brain won’t quite get there. Thespace is enormous—the size of a city square. It would have to be, wouldn’t it? Because it needs to fit a dragon.
Her mouth feels dry. She was supposed to be on the other side of the wall the day of the duel. Aldric had wanted them to perform for those who would inevitably crowd as close to the castle as they could, hoping to hear the distant sounds of the fight.
“We thought it might be useful,” Axel is saying, “for you to get a sense of the place.”
She says nothing, looking down the other end of the arena—to where Mjolnir is waiting, his scales a rippling gray. He takes a few heavy steps toward them, covering the distance in no time, and only then does Skylar see Zryan on his back.
There is a warning tingle down her spine, but she’s not quite sure if she’safraidof the dragon or if she just respects what he can do. But she remembers what he did to the guard. One wrong move… Are you supposed to look dragons in the eye? With cats, aren’t you supposed to blink at them to show you’re friends? She tries that now, blinking very obviously, and is rewarded with a huff of hot air. Like amusement. So maybe that was a stupid thing to do.
One moment Zryan is on top of Mjolnir, the next he is beside her, Teleporting down with ease. She stumbles back, then immediately grits her teeth, annoyed at herself for reacting. She bets that power comes in handy, doesn’t it?
“Can you take this from here?” Axel asks. “I need to see your father.”
“Rebel activity?” Zryan asks, his voice sharp.
Axel nods tightly. “He’s canceling the parade because of it.”
“So I’ve heard. Keep me posted, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Axel inclines his head to Zryan, then backs away. Well, good. At least she only has to deal with one of them.
“So,” Zryan says, pulling her attention to him, “you’re being sent to the island.”
She resists the urge to snap at him, at that even tone of voice, like they’re talking about being sent to the fucking shop.
“Snarling at me isn’t going to help,” Zryan says mildly. So apparently she didn’t resist enough, then. “Believe it or not, Skylar, I want you to win. Ineedyou to win.” She wonders how true that is. Theydon’t want to give up the Heart—that much she believes. But if she dies before the duel… wouldn’t that be the best outcome for him? “And,” he continues, oblivious to the direction of her thoughts, “I am one of the very few people who has experienced the island.”
