Page 121 of Veiled

Two days to panic.

Two days to stress.

Two days to tear my plan apart, only to realize it is still my only true option.

I don’t know who is more likely to kill me, Tyr when he sees me in class today, or Aiden and Matt when they see what I’m going to do.

Aiden practically bullied Lorenson into letting him “volunteer” to observe our mounting techniques, all so he could keep an eye on me, and Matt has barely left my side since breakfast yesterday morning. They both know something’s wrong, and since I can’t lie to the two most important men in my life, I’ve just begged them to trust me.

Keeping this from them has been the hardest decision, but they would be losing their shit if they knew what I’m planning to do today.

We sit with our usual group at lunch, the noise and chaos a welcome distraction from the possible scenarios running through my mind, until Josh leans in and whispers, “Hey, I know I’m new here and everything, but even I’ve heard stories about Tyr.” His tone isn’t dramatic or teasing. It’s grim. Real. “Just—avoid him at all costs today. Maybe hide behind Matt until you’re dismissed to partner with a dragon? I don’t want you getting hurt, okay?”

“You all worry too much,” I laugh him off, “everything is going to be fine.”

When the guys head to refill their water bottles, I catch Sasha’s arm, pulling her into a big hug. To anyone else, it would just look like a quick goodbye, nothing suspicious, but Sasha stiffens the moment my arms tighten.

“What’s that for?” she asks quietly.

“I needed a little bit of your positive energy to rub off on me before riding class.”

“Well, in that case,” she grabs my wrist and tugs me into another hug before whispering against my shoulder, “I know you’re about to do something stupid if you’re waiting until they’re out of earshot to talk. But you don’t do reckless things without thinking them through first, so I’m not going to tell you not to do it.” She squeezes me tighter. “Please try not to die doing whatever insane scheme you came up with.”

I smile into her hair, the warmth of her hug grounding me for a moment.

“I promise, I’ll try not to.”

We pull apart, and her smile falters for just a moment, “You’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

“And you’re one of mine,” I smile back at her.

Every step out to the riding grounds feels like I have blocks of cement weighing me down.

Matt and Aiden each take up one of my sides, a position they seem to fall into naturally whenever it’s just the three of us together.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I feel several pairs of dragon eyes watching me as we approach the field, but I cannot falter. If I have any hope of ever bonding a dragon, I cannot let even an ounce of my fear show today.

An orange dragon huffs before flapping his wings in place, sending a storm cloud of dirt crashing into us. “I’m going to guess that means he’s not open to a bond,” I try to joke, but both men have gone on high alert, and I can see Aiden is talking to Hades in his mind.

When class starts in the tack house, Instructor Lorenson decides to have Aiden teach mounting procedure and techniques. She adds a few quips here and there, but for the most part, she seems pleased by his instruction and mentions him volunteering more often.

“Hades says Tyr is right in the middle of the riding grounds, and he looks on edge. I’m guessing he’s going to try to make it so you can’t pair with anyone for the lesson, but if you can get a dragon as soon as we walk out, you may be able to pair up before he notices you.”

I hear what he’s saying, and I know he’s right.

But as we all separate, Aiden to Lorenson’s side to do what he claimed to be here for, and Matt to find the blue dragon from Tuesday, I walk down the center row. I don’t stop at the first unpaired dragon, or the second, or even the third.

I should turn back. Try to follow Aiden’s guidance, but my feet carry me forward anyway.

Because Tyr is here.

The crimson alpha who stalked me, who roared in my face, and who Hades said would make bonding almost impossible for me.

He stands in the center of the riding grounds in front of me like a war-frenzied monster. His crimson scales look like fresh blood, his claws have sunk into the earth, and the smoke rolling from his nose isn’t measured, but sharp and angry.

As recruits begin to notice where I am headed, their voices ripple around me.

“She’s insane.”