Quiet as a mouse, I creep through the boys bunks, scanning each bed as I make my way to his bed. I just need his comfort, I can't seem to get Aurelie's face out of my head, her scream as she fell. Stop it.

"Liam." I shake him slightly, keeping my voice hushed.

I'm met with a dagger at my throat, great going Li.

"What the fu- Stasia?" I flash him a sarcastic grin. "It would be throughly appreciated if you could please move your knife."

Liam quickly moves his blade, tucking it back under his pillow. "Sorry," he mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "why are you here?"

He moves over so I can squish in next to him, wrapping his arm around my waist as I lay down. "I can't stop thinking about her, everytime I close my eyes all I see is Aurelie's face as she realised she was going to die."

Liam doesn't respond, he doesn't need to, he just pulls me closer, resting his head in the crook of my neck.

It's a weird bond we have, obviously I find him unbelievably attractive but nothing's ever happened, he's always just been there.

------------

The next practice sessions of the Gauntlet are just as successful as my first, and thankfully we don't lose another squadmate. Thankfully Tynan has quit running his mouth, since he can't seem to make it up.

The buoy balls are his downfall.

"Maybe you can climb up onto my shoulders and then..." Rhiannon shakes her head as we study the crevice that's become Vi's nemesis.

"Then I'm still stuck halfway up," Violet answers, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"Doesn't matter. You can't touch another cadet on the route." Sawyer folds his arms beside me, the tip of his nose now bright red from the high sun.

"Are you here to squash hopes and dreams, or do you have a suggestion?" Rhiannon retorts. "Because Presentation is tomorrow, so if you've got any bright ideas, now is the time."

------------

"Doria Merrill," Captain Fitzgibbons says from the dais. Every one of his features is crystal clear, not only because the sun is behind the shade of the clouds but because I'm closer. Our formation gets tighter with every cadet who falls.

It's Presentation Day, and in order to get to the flight field, we'll have to climb the Gauntlet first. Everything about the Riders Quadrant is designed to weed out the weak, and today is no exception.

"Kamryn Dyre." Captain Fitzgibbons continues to read from the roll.

"Arvel Pelipa."

Imogen and Quinn-both second-years-suck in a breath ahead of me. First-years aren't the only ones at risk; we're just the most likely to die.

"Michel Iverem." Captain Fitzgibbons closes the roll. "We commend their souls to Malek." And with that final word, formation breaks.

"Second- and third-years, unless you're on Gauntlet duty, head to class. First-years, it's time to show us what you've got." Dain forces a smile as he looks at our squad.

"Good luck today." Imogen tucks an errant strand of pink hair behind her ear and aims a sickly-sweet smile right at Violet. "Hopefully you won't fall... short."

"See you later," she replys, lifting her chin.

"I believe in you Stas." She sends me a small smile, then walks off with Quinn and Cianna, our executive officer, her shoulder-length blond curls bouncing.

"Best of luck." Heaton-the thickest third-year in our squad, with red flames cut and dyed into their hair-taps their heart, right over two of their patches, and offers us all a genuine but flat-lipped smile before heading to class.

"I didn't realize Heaton actually knew how to speak." Two lines appear between Ridoc's brows.

"Maybe they figure they should at least say hi before we're potentially roasted today," Rhiannon says.

"Back into formation," Dain orders.

"Are you going with us?" Violet asks. Hopefully not.

He nods, fucking great.

The nine of us fall into two lines of four, the same as the other squads around us.

"Awkward," Rhiannon whispers from my side. "He seems kind of pissed at you."

"He wants something I can't give him." My eyebrows rise.

Violet rolls her eyes. "Not like...that."

"I wouldn't care if it was like that," she replies under her breath. "He's hot. He has that whole boy-next-door-who-can-still-kick-your-ass vibe going for him." He is not hot

"We're the biggest squad," Ridoc notes behind us as the squads farthest left-from First Wing-file out through the western gate in the courtyard.

"What are we down to?" Tynan asks. "Hundred and eighty?"

"Hundred and seventy-one," Dain answers. Squads from Second Wing begin to move, led by their wingleader, which means Xaden is somewhere ahead of us. I want to see him before Gauntlet.

"For a hundred dragons? But what will we..." Trina asks, nerves cutting off her words.

"Stop letting fear leach into your voice," Luca snaps from behind Rhiannon. "If the dragons think you're a coward, you'll be nothing but a name tomorrow."

"She says," Ridoc narrates, "inducing more fear."

"Shut up," Luca fires back. "You know it's true."

"Just portray confidence, and I'm sure you'll be fine." Violet leans forward so our squadmates behind us can't hear as Third Wing begins to march for the gate.

"Thanks," Trina whispers in reply.

"Nervous, Rhi?" I ask, knowing we're about to be called next.

"For you?" she asks. "Not at all. We've got this."

"Oh, I meant about the history test tomorrow," I tease. "There's nothing going on today to panic about."

"Now that you mention it, the whole Treaty of Arif might just be the death of me." She grins.

"Ahh, the agreement between Navarre and Krovla for mutually shared airspace for both dragons and gryphons over a narrow strip of the Esben Mountains, between Sumerton and Draithus," Violet recalls, nodding.

"Your memory is terrifying." She shoots her a smile.

"Fourth Wing!" Xaden calls out from somewhere in the distance. I don't even need to see to know that it's him who gave the order and not his executive officer. "Move out!"

We file off, Flame Section, then Claw, and finally Tail.

There's a bit of a bottleneck at the gate, but then we're through, walking into the mage-lit dimness of the tunnel that we take every morning to reach the Gauntlet. Shadows blanket the edges of the rocky floor along our path.

What are the limits of Xaden's power anyway? Could he use shadows to choke out every squad in here? Would he need to rest or recharge after?

Dain falls back so he walks between Rhiannon and Violet. "Change your mind." It's barely a whisper, having decided i'm done with him already, I move back to walk alongside Ridoc and Sawyer.

"Are you nervous." Ridoc asks, a slight tremor to his voice.

"Me, a Riorson, nervous. Never." Or at least thats what I tell myself.

"Ah yes." He nods.

The light grows into an archway that's ten feet high, leading us to the base of the Gauntlet.

The view is spectacular as always. We're still high on the mountain, thousands of feet above the valley, and the greenery seems to stretch endlessly to the south, with random clusters of squat trees among colorful slopes of wildflowers.

My gaze turns to the Gauntlet carved into the face of the cliff, and I can't help but follow each obstacle higher and higher until I'm staring at the top of the ridgeline that the maps I've studied show leads into a box canyon-the flight field. I bite my lip as I stare at the break in the tree line.

Normally, only riders are allowed on the flight field-except for Presentation.

"I don't know if I can watch," Dain says, from ahead of us.

"Then close your eyes." I retort. Ridoc attempts to smother a laugh.

----------

An hour later, I watch Violet from the top of the Gauntlet her feet fly over the spinning posts of the staircase, and she jumps to the safety of the gravel path. Third ascent complete. Two more to go.

"You can do it!" Rhiannon yells from beside me as she reaches the chimney structure.

"Or you can do us all a favor and fall!" another voice yells. Jack, no doubt.

"What are you doing?" Rhiannon shouts as she grab one of the ropes and drags it horizontally across the surface of the cliff, sending pebbles into free fall.

"Can she do that?" someone snaps.

she's doing it now.

Then she lifts her other foot and begins to climb up the chimney, using only the right side, walking up stone and leveraging her weight with the rope, it's bloody genius. The line slips about halfway up as the rope scrapes over a large boulder, my heart drops to my stomach, but she catches herself.

"Hell yes!" Ridoc yells, hooting from the other side of me. "That's our girl!"

"Get up!" I shout. "One more!"

Violet looks sick as she stares up at the ramp.

The obstacle is meant to test a cadet's ability to scale a dragon's foreleg and reach its saddle.

I watch as she unsheathes her largest dagger and wipes away the sweat on her forehead.

She throws her body forward and momentum carries her upward, running up the side of the ramp.

Violet swings her arm up and slams her dagger into the slick, soft wood of the ramp-and flings herself the last foot upward.

A primal scream rips from her throat as her fingers graze the lip of the edge.

I barely even realise i'm moving until Rhi's and my arms sweep around Violet, Ridoc hugs her back.

"She can't do that!" someone shouts.

"Yeah, well, she just did!" Ridoc tosses over his shoulder, loosening his grip.

"You made it!" Rhiannon takes her face in her hands, tears filling her brown eyes. "You made it!"

"Luck." she draws in another breath, "and. Adrenaline."

"Cheating!"

I turn toward the voice. It's Amber Mavis, the strawberry-blond wingleader from Third Wing, and there's nothing but fury on her face as she charges toward my brother, who's only a couple of feet away with the roll, recording times with a stopwatch and looking rather bored with it all.

"Back the hell up, Mavis," Garrick threatens, the sun flashing off the two swords the curly-haired section leader keeps strapped to his back as he puts his body between Amber and Xaden.

"The cheater clearly used foreign materials not once but twice," Amber yells. "It's not to be tolerated! We live by the rules or we die by them!"

"I don't take kindly to calling anyone in my section a cheater," Garrick warns, his massive shoulders blocking her from view as he turns. "And my wingleader will handle any rule-breaking in his own wing." He moves to the side.

"Sorrengail?" Xaden asks, arching an eyebrow in obvious challenge, a pen poised over the book. I notice not for the first time that other than his Fourth Wing and wingleader emblems, he doesn't wear the patches others are so fond of displaying.

"I expect the thirty-second penalty for using the rope," she answers, breaths steadying.

"And the knife?" Amber's gaze narrows. "She's disqualified." When Xaden doesn't answer, she turns that glare on him. "Surely she's out! You can't tolerate lawlessness within your own wing, Riorson!"

But Xaden's gaze never leaves Violets as he silently waits for her to respond, gross.

"A rider may only bring to the quadrant the items they can carry-" I start.

"Are you quoting the Codex to me?" Amber shouts.

"-and they shall not be separated from those items no matter what they may be," Violet continues. "For once carried across the parapet, they are considered part of their person. Article Three, Section Six, Addendum B."

Her blue eyes flare wide as I glance at her. "That addendum was written to make thievery an executional offense."

"Correct."

"But in doing so, it gave any item carried across the parapet the status of being a part of the rider." she unsheathes the chipped and battered blade.

"This isn't a challenge blade. It's one I carried across and therefore considered part of myself."

"The right way isn't the only way."

Xaden holds her gaze. "She has you, Amber."

"On a technicality!"

"She still has you." I bite out.

"You think like a scribe," she barks at Violet.

It's intended as an insult, but she just nods. "I know."

"Sorrengail," Xaden says, and her eyes fly open. "You're leaking." His gaze drops pointedly to her hands.

"Do something about it," he orders.

We all make it.

----------

There are 169 of us by the time the morning is done and, we've placed eleventh out of the thirty-six squads for Presentation-the piss-inducing parade of cadets before this year's dragons willing to bond.

The fastest up the Gauntlet was Liam, of course, earning him the Gauntlet patch. I was just seconds after him, and I know he isn't going to let me forget it.

The box canyon that makes up the training field is spectacular in the afternoon sun, with miles of autumn-colored meadows and peaks rising on three sides of us as we wait at the narrowest part, the entrance to the valley. At the end, I can make out the line of the waterfall that might be just a trickle of a creek now but will rush at runoff season.

The leaves of the trees are all turning gold, as though someone has brought in a paintbrush with only one color and streaked it across the landscape.

And then there are the dragons.

Averaging twenty-five feet tall, they're in a formation of their own, lined up several feet back from the path-close enough to pass judgment on us as we walk by.

"Let's go, Second Squad, you're up next," Garrick says, beckoning us with a wave that makes the relic on his bared forearm gleam.

Dain and the other squad leaders stayed behind, I've never felt more thrilled.

"Into formation," Garrick orders, his tone all business, which doesn't surprise me given that his leadership style is more mission first, niceties last.

There's a sound like rushing wind in the distance that stops as quickly as it starts, and I know someone else has been found lacking.

Garrick's hazel eyes skim over us, snagging on me. "Hopefully Aetos has done his job, so you know that it's a straight walk down the meadow. I'd recommend staying at least seven feet apart-"

"In case one of us gets torched," Ridoc mutters from behind me.

"Correct, Ridoc. Cluster if you want, just know if a dragon finds disfavor with one of you, it's likely to burn the whole lot to weed one out," Garrick warns, holding our gazes for a beat. "Also, remember you're not here to approach them, and if you do, you won't be making it back to the dormitory tonight."

"Can I ask a question?" Luca says from the front row.

Garrick nods, but the ticking of his jaw says he's annoyed. I can't blame him. Luca annoys the shit out of me, too. It's her constant need to tear everyone down that makes most of us keep our distance.

"Third Squad, Tail Section of Fourth Wing already went through, and I talked to some of the cadets..."

"That's not a question." He lifts his brows.

Yep, he's annoyed, but then again so am I.

"Right. It's just that they said there's a feathertail?" Her voice pitches upward.

"A f-feathertail?" Tynan sputters from directly in front of Violet. "Who the hell would ever want to bond a feathertail?"

I roll my eyes, and Rhiannon shakes her head.

"Professor Kaori never told us there would be a feathertail," Sawyer says. "I know because I memorized every single dragon he showed us. All hundred of them."

"Well, guess there's a hundred and one now," Garrick replies, looking at us as if we're children he'd like to be rid of, rude, before glancing back over his shoulder at the entrance to the valley.

"Relax. Feathertails don't bond. I can't even remember the last time one has been seen outside the Vale. It's probably just curious. You're up. Stay on the path. You walk up, you wait for the entire squad, you walk back down. It really doesn't get any easier than this from here on out, kids, so if you can't follow those simple instructions, then you deserve whatever happens in there."

He turns and heads over to a path before the canyon wall where the dragons are perched.

We follow, breaking away from the crowd of first-years. The breeze bites at my bare shoulders from where I ripped my sleeves for to make the hideous uniform better.

"They're all yours," Garrick says to the quadrant's senior wingleader.

She nods and dismisses him. "Single file."

We all shuffle into a line. Rhiannon is infront of me and Ridoc at my back, which means I'll be treated to his commentary the whole time, no doubt. Awesome.

"Talk," the senior wingleader says, folding her arms across her chest.

"Nice day for a Presentation," Ridoc jokes.

"Not to me." The senior wingleader narrows her gaze on Ridoc, then motions to the line of cadets before her. "Talk to your nearby squadmates while you're on the path, as it will help the dragons get a sense of who you are and how well you play with others. There's a correlation between bonded cadets and level of chatter."

"Feel free to look at the dragons, especially if they're showing off their tails, but I would abstain from eye contact if you value your life. If you come across a scorch mark, just make sure nothing's currently on fire before continuing along." She pauses long enough for that bit of advice to sink in, then adds, "See you after your stroll."

With a sweep of her hand, the she steps to the side, revealing the dirt path that leads through the center of the valley, and up ahead, sitting so perfectly still that they might be gargoyles, are the hundred and one dragons who have decided to bond this year.

The line starts, and we give one another the suggested seven feet before following.

I'm hyperaware of every step as I walk down the path. The trail is hard beneath my boots, and there's a definite lingering odor of sulfur, it brings back bad memories.

We pass a trio of red dragons first. They're fucking massive.

"I can't even see their tails!" Tynan shouts . "How are we supposed to know what breed they are?"

I keep my eyes locked at the level of their massive, muscled shoulders as we walk by. "We're not supposed to know what breed they are," Violet responds.

"Fuck that," he says over his shoulder. "I need to figure out which one I'm going to approach during Threshing."

"Pretty sure this little walk is so they can decide," I retort.

"Hopefully one of them will decide you don't get to make it to Threshing," Rhiannon says, her voice quiet so it barely reaches me.

I laugh as we approach a set of browns.

"They're a little bigger than I thought they would be," Rhiannon says, her voice rising. "Not that I didn't see the ones at Parapet, but..."

"So do you know if you're having a niece or nephew?" Violet asks, continuing to walk forward past a handful of oranges.

"What?" she answers.

"I've heard some of the healers can make pretty good guesses once a woman is further along in her pregnancy."

"Oh. No," she says. "No clue. Though I'm kind of hoping she'll have a girl. I guess I'll find out once we finish the year and can write our families."

"That's a bullshit rule," I say, lowering my gaze immediately when I accidentally make eye contact with one of the oranges.

"You don't think it encourages loyalty to the wing?" Rhiannon asks.

"I think I'm just as loyal to my brother whether I've had a letter from him or not," I counter. "There are bonds that can't be broken."

We pass by another set of reds, then a single brown and a pair of greens.

Full-body-shudder gross.

"A nephew would be good," Rhiannon says, like the conversation was never interrupted. "Boys aren't too bad."

"My brother was awesome, but he and Dain are my only experience with growing up around little boys."

We pass more dragons, and my breathing starts to settle. The smell of sulfur disappears, thankfully, or I would have had a full panic attack in front of the dragons.

They're close enough to torch us, the half dozen singe marks testify to that, but I can't hear them breathing or feel it, either.

"Though I think Dain was probably a little more rule-abiding than most kids. He likes order and pretty much detests anything that doesn't fit neatly into his plan. He's probably going to give me shit about how I got up the Gauntlet, just like Amber Mavis did."

We pass the halfway mark and continue.

"Why didn't you tell us about the rope plan? Or the dagger?" Rhiannon asks, hurt pitching her tone. "You can trust us, you know."

"I didn't think of it until yesterday," Violet answers,

"And if it didn't work, I didn't want you to be an accomplice. You have a real future here, and I refuse to bring you down with me if I didn't make it."

"We don't need you to protect us."

"I know. But it's just what friends do, Rhi." I shrug as we walk by a trio of browns, the soft crunch of our boots on the dark gravel path the only sound for a few minutes.

"You keeping any other secrets up there?" Rhiannon eventually asks.

Guilt settles in my stomach when I think of what's really out there.

"I think it's impossible to know everything there is to know about someone." Vi responds,

She snorts a laugh. "If that wasn't skirting the question. How about this? Promise me that if you need help, you'll let us give it to you."

A smile spreads across my face despite the terrifying greens we're walking by. "How about this," she tosses over her shoulder.

"I promise that if I need help you're capable of giving, I'll ask, but only"-she holds up her forefinger-"if you promise the same." "Deal." We smile wide.

"You guys done bonding back there?" Tynan sneers. "Because we're almost to the end of the line, if you haven't noticed." He pauses in the middle of the path, his gaze swinging right. "And I still can't figure out which one I'm going to choose."

"With arrogance like that, I'm sure any dragon would feel lucky to share your mind for the rest of your life." I pity whatever dragon-if any- chooses him.

The rest of the squad is gathered ahead of us, facing our direction at the end of the path, but all their attention is focused to the right.

We pass the last brown dragon, and I inhale sharply.

"What the hell?" Tynan stares.

"Keep walking," I order, but my gaze is transfixed.

Standing at the end of the line is a small golden dragon. Sunlight reflects off its scales and horns as it stands to its full height, flicking a feathered tail around the side of its body. The feathertail.

"Get off me, Sorrengail," Tynan hisses and shoves her back. "Who the hell would bond that thing?"

My chest tightens. "They can hear you," I remind him.

"It's fucking yellow." Luca points right at the dragon, disgust curling her lip. "So not only is it obviously too small to carry a rider in battle, but it's not even powerful enough to be a real color."

"Maybe it's a mistake," Sawyer says quietly. "Maybe it's a baby orange."

"It's full grown," Rhiannon argues. "There's no way the other dragons allow a baby to bond. No human alive has ever seen a baby."

"It's a mistake all right." Tynan looks at the golden one and scoffs. "You should totally bond it, Sorrengail. You're both freakishly weak. It's a match made in heaven."

"It looks powerful enough to burn you to death," I snap.

Sawyer lunges forward, grabbing Tynan's collar. "Don't ever say that about a squadmate, especially not in front of unbonded dragons."

"Let him go-he's just saying what we're all thinking," Luca mutters.

I turn slowly to stare at her, my mouth slightly agape. Is this what happens to us the second we're out of hearing range of any superior cadet? We turn on one another.

"What?" She gestures to my hair. "Half her hair is silver and she's... petite," she finishes with a fake smile. "Golden and...small. They match."

Trina puts her hand on Sawyer's arm. "Don't make a mistake in front of them. We don't know what they'll do," she whispers. And now we're grouped up.

I shuffle backward a little as Sawyer drops Tynan's collar.

"Someone should kill it before it bonds," Tynan sputters. "It's just going to get its rider killed, and it's not like we get a choice if it wants to bond us."

"You're just picking up on that now, are you?" Ridoc shakes his head.

"We should go back," Pryor says, his gaze darting around the group. "I mean...if you think we should. We don't have to, of course."

"For once in your life," Tynan says, pushing past Pryor to start down the path, "make a damn decision, Pryor."

"They're pretty incredible, aren't they?" Ridoc says, and the wonder in his voice makes me smile.

"They are," I agree.

"They're honestly a little underwhelming after seeing that blue at Parapet." Luca's voice carries all the way to Rhiannon, who turns around with an incredulous look. I agree, Sgaeyl is stunning.

"Like this isn't stressful enough without you insulting them?" Rhi asks.

"I mean, it could be worse. We could be walking past a line of wyvern, right?" Violet says, and my stomach drops.

"Oh please, Violet, do give us one of your nervous-babble story times," Luca says sarcastically. "Let me guess. Wyvern are some elite squad of gryphon riders created because of something we did at a battle only you can manage to remember with your scribe brain."

"You don't know what a wyvern is?" Rhi asks, then begins walking again. "Didn't your parents tell you bedtime stories, Luca?" "Do enlighten me," Luca drawls.

I roll my eyes, continuing along the path. "They're folklore," Violet says over her shoulder, Well.

"Kind of like dragons but bigger, with two feet instead of four, a mane of razor-sharp feathers streaking down their necks, and a taste for humans. Unlike dragons, who think we're a little gamey."

"My mom used to love telling my sister Raegan and me that we'd be plucked right off the front porch by one if we talked back, and their eerie eyed venin riders would take us prisoner if we took treats we weren't allowed to have," Rhi says.

"My dad used to read to me those fables every night," Vi tells us. "And I seriously asked him one time if Mom was going to turn into a venin because she could channel."

Rhiannon chuckles as we walk by a set of glaring reds. "Did he tell you people supposedly only turn into venin if they channel directly from the source?"

"He did, but it was after my mom had a really long night while we were stationed near the eastern border, and her eyes were bloodshot red, so I freaked out and started shrieking."

"She took my book of fables away for a month because the outpost guards all came running, and I was hiding behind my brother, who couldn't stop laughing, and, well...it was a mess." I keep my eyes front and center as a large orange sniffs the air when I pass.

Rhiannon's shoulders shake with laughter. "I wish we'd had a book like that. I seriously think Mom just altered the stories to scare us whenever we stepped out of line."

"That sounds like some border-village nonsense." Luca scoffs. "Venin? Wyvern? Anyone with a modicum of education knows that our wards stop all magic that isn't channeled directly from dragons." It's almost funny.

"They're stories, Luca," Rhi says over her shoulder, and I can't help but notice how much ground we've covered. "Pryor, you can walk a little faster if you want up there."

"Maybe we should slow down and take our time?" Pryor suggests from ahead of Rhiannon, rubbing his palms along the sides of his uniform. "Or I guess we can go faster if we want to get out of here."

A red steps out of line, putting one claw forward toward us, and my stomach drops to the ground from the weight of the dread filling my entire body. "No, no, no," I whisper, freezing in place, the memories threatening to take over again.

The red opens its mouth, exposing sharp, glistening fangs, and fire erupts along the sides of its tongue, streaming through the air and into the path ahead of Rhiannon.

She yells in shock.

Heat blasts the front of my face.

Then it's over, my breathing quickens and I have to brace myself or I might be sick.

The scent of sulfur and burned grass...burned...something fills my lungs, and I see a charred patch of ground in front of Rhiannon that hadn't been there before.

"Are you all right, Stas?"Ridoc calls.

I nods, but the movement is hurried and jerky. "Pryor is... He's..."

My mouth waters like I'm going to vomit, but I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth until the feeling passes.

"Keep walking!" Sawyer shouts from farther down the path.

"It's all right, Stas. You just have to..." He trails off

"Fire's out," Rhiannon says over her shoulder.

I nod, because there's nothing I can say, the trauma still lingering.

She walks forward and I follow, maneuvering around the pile of ash that used to be Pryor, keeping my eyes ahead

"Oh my gods, the smell," Luca complains.

"Could you please have some level of decency?" Violet snaps, turning around to level a glare at her.

"Violet."

It's a whisper, and I wonder briefly if I heard him as much as I saw the word forming on his lips.

"Vi-"

Oh. Fuck.

Two massive green dragons have their heads directly infront of Violet.

The one on the right chortles deep in its throat.

Greens are the most reasonable.

"I cut my hands climbing the obstacle course." she lifts her palms, like they can see through the black fabric binding the wounds.

The one on the right sets its nose right at her breasts and chuffs again.

What. The. Hell.

It inhales, making that noise in its throat, and the other shoves its nose into her ribs, making her raise her arms just in case.

"Violet!" Rhiannon whisper-shouts.

"I'm all right!" she calls back.

Another chuff. Another chortle, like they're talking to each other as they sniff her.

="You smell Teine, don't you?" Who?

They both draw back.

"I'm Mira's sister, Violet." Slowly lowering her arms, she runs her hands over the snot-covered vest and the armor carefully sewn into it. "She collected Teine's scales after he shed them last year and had them shrunk down so she could sew them into the vest to help keep me safe." That's sick.

The one on the left sticks its nose in again, sniffing loudly.

"The scales have saved me a few times." But no one else knows they're in there. Just Mira and Teine."

Step by step, they retreat until I see them take up their places in line in my peripherals, and I finally let out a shaky breath,

"Violet." Rhiannon is only a few feet away, a look of terror in her eyes. She must have been right behind their heads.

"I'm fine." I have dragon-scale armor under the vest." They smell my sister's dragon." "Please don't tell anyone."

"I won't," she whispers. "You're all right?"

"Other than having a few years of my life shaved off." she laughs. The sound is shaky, bordering on hysteria.

"Let's get out of here." She swallows, her gaze darting toward the line of dragons.

"Good idea."

She turns and walks back to her place, Violet and I follow.

"I think I just shat myself," Ridoc says, and my laughter only pitches higher as we move through the field.

"Honestly, I thought they were going to eat you," Luca remarks.

"Me too," I admit.

"I wouldn't have blamed them," she continues.

"You're insufferable," Ridoc calls back.

Violet ignores her,

"What? She's obviously our weakest link after Pryor, and I don't blame them for snuffing him out," she argues. "He could never make a decision, and no one wants someone like that as their rider-" A blast of heat singes my back and I halt.

Don't be Ridoc. Don't be-

"Guess the dragons think she's insufferable, too," Ridoc mutters. Our squad is down to six first-years.