Page 39 of Resurgent

Because every text that's come through, every instructor interaction, every look from Sasha has been saying that.

"You’re strong."

"You’ll be as good as new."

"You’ll recover."

Empty reassurances that bounce off the cracks already splitting me apart.

Like I can summon the strength from the body I’ve failed too many times before. My body aches, haunted by the injuries my dad inflicted, and wrung out by the memories dragging me back to the night I’d rather carve out of my memory than relive again, and to the sweet angel I'll never get to meet. With every breath, I question if any of this is worth it.

Tyr shifts beside me, massive wings rustling as he lowers his head slightly.

“Faren—”

“Don’t!” I snap, my legs giving out before I even realize they’re shaking, my balance gone in an instant. My body slams into the hard, stick-and-pine-needle-covered ground, as humiliation tears at me.

The disappointment of the last five days of trying to mount Tyr crashes down on me all at once, piling on top of everything else already clawing at my mind.

Five days of Tyr offering to lay down so I don’t have to climb. Five days of me refusing and then only making it a few feet off of the ground before my leg gives out. Five days of reminders that all of my progress has not only been wiped clean, but dragged backward, leaving me worse off than I was the day I bonded.

Despite the wound being closed, the tests Sasha did yesterday indicate that my muscles are still a week away from being fully healed, which means that despite being able to study, and shoot, and move around the house, I can’t even climb my own bonded dragon.

Pathetic.

He’s quiet in my head, but I can feel him—his presence pressing gently against my mind the way it has since we bonded. Always steady. Always patient.

Always waiting for me.

For a split second, I’m not in the forest—I’m back on the cavern floor, the metallic tang of blood thick in my mouth as my body refuses to move.

My vision blurs, not with dramatic tears, but with that dull film that’s been sitting over everything since I woke up. Like the world is slightly farther away now and I’m watching my life happen through glass. A broken laugh escapes me, quickly dissolving into a sob I can’t hold back.

“I'm sorry, Tyr,” I whisper hoarsely as tears spill down my face, blurring the forest into streaks of muddled greens and browns. “I'm so sorry I'm being such a bitch.”

The ground shakes as Tyr’s large body collapses against the ground beside me, dirt and debris ricocheting into the air by the unexpected collision.

“Get. On!” Tyr snarls.

“No, I can climb. Just stand back up, I can do it!”

“Get on his back, or I’ll put you up there myself,” Korr’s voice cuts through the air as Kali lands by the house.

“I will when he stands back up!”

“You’ve been trying that for almost a week, and your body isn’t ready for it yet. Your bond is like a pressure cooker—the bond strengthens and builds with all of the time you spend together, but if you don't fly together for too long, the pressure grows until you're ready to explode—like you're doing right now."

"I don't like saying this, but he's not entirely wrong. Flying lets all of the built-up time solidify the bond, which strengthens your abilities."

"So, you’re going to put your stubborn nature aside for thirty seconds while you get on his back, and then we’re going on a trip.”

A trip? That gets my attention, my eyes snapping up to search his in case this is all some sick joke…but I don’t see even a flicker of a smirk on his face.

“Dean Stevens said I’m not allowed to fly until I can climb him myself.”

“Did she say he had to be standing?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

My mouth opens, closes, and opens once more. I try to remember every word from her missive, but I come up completely blank.