by K. A. Linde
Kerrigan’s face was beet red. Her stomach flopped around on the floor like a fish. Her jaw unhinged as she turned to see the man she had been betrothed to twelve years earlier. Fordham’s hand still held her own. And though the whispers only grew, Kerrigan heard none of it. Only focused on the singular word that had left March’s mouth—fiancée.
“Excuse me?” Kerrigan forced out, quickly removing her hand from Fordham’s.
March shot her a beguiling smile. “We’re still betrothed, my lady.”
“No,” she whispered. “That’s not possible. I was gone for twelve years. I’m not even Bryonican anymore.”
“I assure you that the proper betrothal documents are still in place, signed by our parents all those years ago.”
“But surely, they’re not still valid. Everyone thought I was dead.”
“I didn’t,” he insisted. “I never gave up hope that I would find you again one day. And the documents are only invalid if either you were found officially deceased or I chose to marry someone else.”
Kerrigan looked into those blue eyes in shock. And he hadn’t married. He’d waited these long twelve years for her. Of course, it mattered little when a Fae male married, if he ever did; her father certainly never had. But to have left the betrothal in place was absurd. What would be the point?
“I think… I need some air,” Kerrigan said, plucking at her very hot throat. “If you’ll both excuse me.”
She curtsied and rushed out of the room. Audria grabbed her arm as she hurried past.
“Kerrigan,” she cried.
“Leave me alone, Audria.”
“I had no idea you were still betrothed.”
“Nor did I.”
“I wouldn’t have contacted March otherwise.”
Kerrigan froze and whirled on her. “You contacted him?”
“I was sure that you wanted to see our old friend again.”
Kerrigan took a step toward her friend and Society teammate. “Audria, we must work together for the next year, and I will honor that. But what you did—telling everyone that I was Princess Felicity and contacting March—without consulting me beforehand was a breach of trust.”
“I’m sorry,” she said slowly, putting her hands out in front of her. “I thought you would be happy.”
“I am not happy. Do not do me any more favors in the future.”
Audria nodded. “I understand.”
Kerrigan hurried out the front doors and onto the busy Row street beyond. She had no carriage and was in these ridiculous heeled shoes. She pulled each one off of her feet and then stood barefoot in front of the first event of the Season. What a mess.
“May I assist you?”
Kerrigan huffed a sigh when her father motioned for his carriage to be brought around. “Did you know?”
“I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”
“And why would that be?”
Kivrin sighed heavily. The carriage appeared, and they were helped inside before he spoke again. He ran a hand back through his dark brown hair and looked out at the city beyond as it drove toward the mountain. “I did wrong by you, Kerrigan. I acknowledge that I’m not a good father by anyone’s standards. But I did what I thought was best for you.”
He shot her a pained look, and for the first time in her entire life, she wondered if maybe he was telling her the truth. Not that it made up for the abandonment. Nothing could. But he wasn’t playing the playboy prince here. He was being honest.
“Why didn’t you break the betrothal?” she asked.
“I couldn’t. I tried. I would have had to admit to your death.”
“There was a funeral,” she snapped.
“Not on my account,” he snapped right back. “People wanted closure. I refused, and it was done anyway. But since I never sanctioned it, the betrothal documents were still valid until March married. In what world did I imagine that you would be back here as yourself for a Season—your own Season at that?”
Kerrigan shrugged. No one would have thought that. She certainly hadn’t ever planned to let anyone know who she was. Nor join in the Season. That wasn’t the world she’d wanted since she left. She still didn’t.
“How do I make it go away?”
Kivrin shook his head. “You can’t.”
“I do not have to marry someone that I do not wish.”
“Bryonican law …”
“I’m not Bryonican,” she ground out.
“I’ll figure it out,” he said as they came up to the foot of Draco Mountain. “Just focus on your studies. I’ve heard horror stories about Society training, and Lorian is gunning for you.”
“As you once said.”
Kivrin frowned. “I do not enjoy being right about this.”
The door opened to the carriage, and she let the footman assist her out.
“Kerrigan,” he said, leaning out the door. She turned back to him in surprise. “I’m proud of you.”
A lump formed in her throat. She’d never thought that she would want to hear those words, but she did. She smiled and sent him a small nod of acknowledgment.
24
The Star
CLOVER
Clover had been drinking too much wine.
“You need to slow down,” Hadrian said, trying to pry the gold goblet out of her hand. He managed to take it out of her grasp, but it was already mostly empty anyway.
“I’m fine,” Clover muttered.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to make a fool of yourself.”
“This is a ridiculous spectacle.” She thrust her hand out toward Darby. Hadrian grabbed it and pulled it to their sides. Their fingers laced together in the space, and she looked up into his face. The handsome boy she had always teased and mocked and joked with to get him to shed his perfect skin.
Hadrian was a street rat through and through. He’d grown up on the streets, and though he was Fae, he was as much a part of this city as Clover was. He might dress in silk and cravats and top hats now, but she could feel the city on him. Drawing it out of him was the real work of her life. It was how she’d convinced him to come to the protest. It was why she was standing with him right now. Because despite how she felt about Darby, Clover and Hadrian were the same.
Darby was from a middle-of-nowhere farm town. She’d had family who loved her enough to give her up to the House of Dragons for a better life. Clover and Hadrian had nothing and no one. Then, he’d been picked for the House of Dragons, and she’d found the Wastes.
“I know it’s a spectacle,” he finally said, dissolving his anger and releasing her hand. “But it’s what Darby wants.”
“She doesn’t know what she wants.”
“Don’t do that,” Hadrian said. “Don’t diminish her choice just because it wasn’t you.”
Clover winced. She hated that he’d gotten to the heart of it.
Darby was too good for a lousy human. She had always been too good for Clover. Still, they’d shared one perfect kiss at a party just like this. Clover had thought this would be easier. It wasn’t.
“Fine. We’ve seen what we came for. Can we go?” Clover asked.
Hadrian nodded. “Clove …”
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” she teased. “You don’t need to coddle me. I’m not breakable. Unless you want to try.” She winked at him.
He flushed from his neck to the tips of his sharply pointed ears. “That isn’t …”
She laughed. “I know, Hadrian.”
He cleared his throat again. “I don’t want to hurt Darby.”
Clover startled at the words. Was he saying that he was interested?
“What are you saying? Speak plainly.”
“Don’t you know?”
“Say it,” she commanded.
His gaze traveled to her lips and back up. “I shouldn’t want this, but I do. She wanted you first. Her feelings matter.”
“So, she gets to do that”—she gestured to Darby standing with a tall gentleman, her hand on
his sleeve as she laughed—“but we can’t do this?”
He gulped. “She still likes you.”
“She chose. And you said so.”
He nodded and then took a step back. “She chose, but it’s still wrong.”
Clover wanted to tell him to live dangerously, but she could feel this thing between them was strange and precarious. If she pushed, he’d shut down. Darby was one of his closest friends. Clover still ached for Darby. But she’d wanted Hadrian in other ways for too long to ignore it when he admitted to wanting her back. She’d have them both as lovers if she could. If they’d let her.
But not yet.
Then, they heard the room go silent. Clover stared at Kerrigan stuck between Fordham and some unknown male. She heard the word betrothal, felt Kerrigan’s shock from here, and then she was leaving.
“Oh gods,” Clover gasped.
Fordham rushed out after her. The other man, whoever he was, looked at Kerrigan with a smug smile on his face. Clover didn’t know anything about him, but that smile told her all she needed to know. He had done all of that on purpose. And it hadn’t been for a good reason.
She didn’t think. She just dashed across the room with Hadrian on her heels. Kerrigan was speaking to Audria and then was out into the night. Fordham was going to catch her, and Clover couldn’t tell him how big a problem that was. Kerrigan’s feelings for Fordham were so blatant that he could only make things worse.
She grabbed his shoulder. “Wait,” she gasped.
He whipped around. His eyes set and hard. “Clover… what? I need to catch Kerrigan.”
“Let her go.”
They stood at the entrance to the party. A crowd milled around, waiting to see what would happen next. But then Kerrigan’s father appeared at her side.
“He’s handling it.”
“She hates her father,” Fordham spat.
“I know, but you will only make things worse.”
“Me and not him?”
“Oh, he probably will, too, but she expects that from him.”
He turned back to look at Clover. Hadrian had finally reached them as well.
“Explain,” he commanded.
“Have you changed your mind about Kerrigan?” Clover demanded.
His jaw clenched. “No.”
“I don’t understand,” Hadrian said. “Why are you two not together?”
Fordham shook his head. “It’s a curse.”
Clover rolled her eyes. “Melodramatic.”
“A literal curse,” he explained. “I am doomed to hurt the ones closest to me. It was given to me at birth.”
“Have you considered that simply by denying yourself the person you want, you are already hurting her?” Clover snapped.
Fordham’s face cleared for a moment. “No. I don’t want to hurt her, but …”
“But?”
He shook his head and turned to find Kerrigan piling into a carriage and leaving the party. Hope died in his face. “I don’t want to get her killed either.”
Hadrian put his hand on Fordham’s shoulder. “We all think we’re doing the best by her, but as someone who has known her most of my life, let me tell you that she does not like choices to be made for her. She would rather suffer the consequences than live with regret.”
Fordham’s face was pained at the words. “I’ll consider that.”
Clover watched him deal with the consequences of his actions. She wasn’t ready to return to the party to deal with the consequences of hers. So, she slipped into the night without Hadrian or Darby. Away from the life she could only ever halfway occupy as a human and back to the Wastes that accepted her wholly as she was. She lit a loch cigarette, wondering who that was anymore.
25
The Dragons
“We can do this,” Kerrigan said to Tieran as she stood at his side in the arena.
You are incredibly optimistic. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so ill-advised, Tieran grumbled.
“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes at her dragon.
Seriously, how had they ended up together? Not that she wasn’t a sarcastic jerk sometimes—a lot of times even—but Tieran took it to the next level.
Now, if Alura could just show up and tell them what they were all doing.
The trainees hadn’t been given any directions the rest of the weekend. Kerrigan had spent it sleeping and trying to forget the Season party that had ruined her life. She only left to eat, making sure to do it at odd hours to escape the others. Which worked. She didn’t even see Fordham, who must have been avoiding her to accomplish that. He always seemed to have a sixth sense to her movements.
Then, this morning, she’d woken up to a note slipped under her door that said to meet in the arena. So, here she was. The dragons were already waiting for them when the others trickled in as well.
Audria was paired with Evien, a majestic purple-scaled dragon, who Kerrigan used to sneak out with at night to fly. Roake had the sapphire-blue dragon, Luxor, who had never understood Kerrigan’s sarcasm or really any figures of speech. Which might have been a problem for Kerrigan, but seemed to suit Roake just fine. Noda’s dragon, Avirix, had seafoam-green scales that nearly matched the various patterned teal headscarves she always wore. Avirix was the largest of the lot. Not as large as Gelryn, who was the size of a large house, but hardly as small as Tieran.
Kerrigan tried not to look to where Fordham stood with Netta in all of her ruby-scaled glory. She didn’t want to know what he thought about March. Or maybe… didn’t think about March.
Roake tapped his foot. “Is she ever going to appear?”
She must, Luxor said evenly. She is duty-bound.
“She’s taking her sweet time,” he grumbled.
“She’s allowed to do what she wants,” Audria said.
Indeed, Evien said. But maybe we could fly around the arena while we wait.
Tieran nudged her. Maybe we cut a break.
Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “We’re not that lucky.”
Tieran couldn’t even argue.
Noda was the first to see her. She gasped and pointed to the skies where Alura soared in on her dragon, Gemina. She was a stunning metallic blend of silver, gold, and bronze. Her scales almost matched the silver metal armor that Alura had fastened down her front. She looked like an avenging goddess from legend.
Gemina zoomed in low, and Alura executed a perfect dive roll onto the sand floor. She whipped up, removing the sword strapped to her back, and ran at a full sprint. Gemina dipped down, grabbed her in one claw, and tossed her upward. Kerrigan’s eyes widened as Alura did a flip and landed in a standing crouch on the back of her dragon, an effortless shield forming around them. She thrust the sword back into its sheath and then side-rolled down the leg of her dragon, dangled from the ankle, and released, using air to cushion her descent and landing on one knee.
She slowly rose to her feet and surveyed her charges.
“Congratulations. You have completed your thirty days of basic training and are moving on to dragon training.”
Gemina soared around overhead once and then landed primly next to Alura, whipping her tail in tight around her.
Hello, littlings, Gemina mind-spoke to them. Today is the first day of real training. You will leave here a different person, a different dragon, a different bonded team.
Kerrigan glanced at Tieran worriedly. A bonded team was anything but what they were.
“The training will progress over the next eleven months with a final test with your dragon next summer. Passing that test means getting official robes and membership into the Society. But first, you have to be able to do everything that I just did and more. Any questions?”
Audria, of course, shot her hand into the air.
Alura glared at her until she pulled it back down. “Good. Then, we’ll begin.”
Begin wasn’t quite the word. Thrown in headfirst without warning was more like it. Alura had a very unique method of teaching. Which basically meant figure it out until y
ou get it.
“Shield up,” Alura shouted from the distance.
Kerrigan lay in the sandy arena, staring up at the clear blue sky, drinking the humid air, and trying desperately to breathe.
Again, Tieran grouched.
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled.
She hoisted herself back to her feet, prepared, and ran at top speed. She completely understood the last thirty days of training because to execute this move, she needed to be in top shape and to land with the shield up, and not floundering would use all of her magic skills. And she was still struggling.
Tieran flew in low, snatching her up in both of his claws. She winced as his nail dug into her shoulder. Then, she was soaring through the air. She flipped backward with her eyes closed, a shriek escaping her mouth. She landed on Tieran’s back.
“Scales,” she yelled as she scrambled for purchase on her dragon.
“Shield up!” Alura barked again.
“Crap.” She reached for her shield, but she was off-balance. She certainly hadn’t landed on her two feet. Her body slid sideways, and then once again, she was falling through the air. She dropped a few feet and landed hard on her back.
The air rushed out of her lungs. Her shoddy shield dropped.
“Oh gods.”
She coughed and coughed, worried that she was going to vomit up breakfast. Her eyes were blurry at the edges. Tieran sank back down onto the ground and huffed in her direction.
“Shove it,” she ground out.
But they were actually the best of the lot. Kerrigan had had a lot of time with dragons in her life. She’d been flying since she’d been left at the House of Dragons. She had a distinct advantage with it as the others had never really been around dragons. Not for an extended period of time at least.
Audria was better at the flipping with her acrobatic training. Noda had perfect balance from sailing. Roake was sturdy and strong in his movements. Fordham executed everything with military precision, and his shields were top-notch. But they all still fell over and over again. Most of them hadn’t even managed to get onto their dragon.