“You’re nosy, boy,” Trix said, her tone thoughtful, and Kade nodded, clearly anticipating a reprimand, until— “Which is exactly why I need you.”
“For what?” he asked, latching on to the change in subject.
Whatever it was she needed from him, Sev wanted to know. He had no intention of getting roped into rebellions and stupid heroics. That was how people wound up dead. “Please, just tell me what you need, so I can do it and be free of this arrangement.”
Kade stared at him, a frown creasing his brow. It almost looked like disappointment, but Sev shook the odd sinking feeling it gave him.
He wasn’t joining their little revolt because he wanted to. . . . He was doing it because Trix was forcing him. What he really wanted was to escape, and the sooner he did whatever she needed, the sooner that would happen.
“I need you to sign up for pack animal duty,” she announced.
“I . . . What?” Sev asked, his gaze flicking to Kade. He was one of a dozen bondservants who were responsible for the newly purchased llamas’ care, and if Sev signed up for pack animal duty, they’d be stationed together.
“Why?” Kade demanded, getting to his feet. “I don’t need him.”
“I never said you did.”
“For how long?” Sev asked.
“Until I say so.”
“What? Why can’t you just tell me?” Sev demanded.
“Some things are best kept secret,” Trix said. Both Sev and Kade continued to scowl at her, but she seemed wholly unperturbed.
“Secret?” Sev repeated blankly. “Okay . . . well, what do I need to do while stationed there? Surely more than my regular duties.”
Trix only smiled. “Consider yourself on a need-to-know basis, boy. And right now you do not need to know. So, for the time being, that information . . .”
“Let me guess,” Sev asked resignedly, “also a secret?”
“That’s the thing with secrets,” she said. “They never really die. Just when one bursts into flames, another rises up to take its place.”
She knew my darkness better than anyone, and always, she had forgiven me. Always, she had seen the good in me. Until the day she didn’t.
- CHAPTER 12 -
TRISTAN
TRISTAN’S FAVORITE PLACE WAS soaring through the sky on the back of his phoenix. His not-flaming phoenix, of course.
The pump of Rex’s powerful wings beneath him, the gusts of warm air that floated up from the rocky earth below, and the vistas that showed him mountains and rivers and endless trees as far as the eye could see—that was, when his eye wasn’t fixed on the back of his bondmate’s head.
Unlike usual, Tristan didn’t scan the ground below for danger, as he was supposed to do, or gaze into the distance, where mountain ranges enclosed the valley like a sturdy rock palisade. He didn’t even try to see his old home in Ferro—an impossible feat from this distance and angle, but something he did almost every time he rode.
No, Tristan hunched in the stirrups of his saddle, muscles rigid and hands clenched tight on the reins, as if riding a stampeding horse, not floating above the ground in wide, elegant arcs. He refused to enjoy his late-afternoon flight, preferring to scowl at Rex’s feathers and stew in silence.
Rex tossed his head, taking Tristan’s irritation and making it his own—one of the negative effects of the bond. The phoenix dipped suddenly, beating his wings with an impatient flap and jolting Tristan out of his distracted thoughts. He realized his stiff, awkward riding position was as uncomfortable for his bondmate as it was for him.
“Sorry, Rex,” Tristan murmured, settling more comfortably in the saddle. With a heavy sigh and a twist of his neck to work out the kinks, Tristan took in the familiar landscape that unfolded below them, running a gentle hand down the silken feathers of Rex’s bright red neck, warmth bleeding through his gloves.
Tristan was dressed in his full Rider regalia—leather gloves and armguards, fitted tunic, a thick woven breastplate, and padded riding pants tucked into boots, all coated with a fire-resistant resin. The layers made Tristan hot and uncomfortable, and he much preferred to fly without them—but today’s ride wasn’t for leisure. Today he and several of the more senior apprentices were participating in the local patrols along with the Master Riders.
It should have made him happy—and it did at first. Tristan had begged and pleaded for the chance, and at last the order had come through. Finally, after months of asking, he’d get the opportunity to prove to all the Master Riders—including his