Chapter 79 CHAPTER 79
Zephyr became one with the wind while I kept firing my arrows back, twisting in the saddle.
Yes, I'm not suicidal. At this speed, I had to lock in to avoid getting flung off my dragon.
After a while, I noticed the arrows stopped coming.
But it left a pungent taste in my mouth.
Now that I was practically useless at the war front, what next will I be made to do?
Is it insane that I'd have preferred to stay on the war front?
At least there I had a steady purpose. My routine was the same.
Wake up from my tent, fly around with Zephyr to get his wings in top shape and then cross the border, take away the toughest part of the battle for everyone and head back down.
I don't fight alongside everyone, they treat me like scum.
The saying about lines blurring in war didn't apply to me.
Everyone could see through my facade, their dragons smelled Fae on me and breathed smoke steadily.
I was an anomaly and everyone knew it.
Acted on it even.
So I stayed away from the major fighting that happened on the ground.
Flying and fighting happened once in a while when the Fae feel like they've discovered a weakness in our border and they decide to attack full on.
Everyone gets atop their dragon, flies past the border, attack the hell out of them until they're pushed back.
Even during those times, I'm usually at the forefront, closer to the danger.
Expendable.
Even now as my arm hurt and my dragon favoured one wing while flying, I didn't expect sympathy or respect from anyone.
It wasn't coming.
My shoulder throbbed. The arrow wound was still bleeding through my armour.
"When we land, you're going to a healer," Zephyr said firmly.
"When we land, I'm going wherever the King tells me to go."
"Florian—"
"You know how this works,” I grunted.
And he replied with a snarl of his own.
The helplessness was his price for choosing an overachiever like me as his flying mate.
The King's summons always came with strings attached. He never sends for me if he doesn't need me to risk my life for something.
And I was worried.
I wasn't supposed to rotate out for another three months.
So why pull me out now?
I knew the answer or at least it was the most obvious one after the Fae army developed that magical ability to craft an arrow using my blood. He had spies everywhere so he must have heard about this since and was about to get to the root of it.
‘Lab,’ my mind whispered. ‘He's sending you back to the lab.’
My stomach turned.
Three months away from Dr Veron's sterile white walls and gleaming instruments. Three months of not being strapped down and cut open in the name of "understanding Fae biology."
Three months of almost feeling human.
And now I was going back.
"We don't know that's why he called you," Zephyr said, reading my thoughts through our bond.
"Don't we?"
Silence.
Because he couldn't argue.
The King only pulled me off the front lines for two reasons: when he needed me to kill someone, or when he needed me on a table.
And I'd just proven I could still be killed.
Which made me less valuable as a weapon.
Which made me more valuable as a specimen.
"I won't let them touch you," Zephyr growled.
"You don't have a choice. Neither of us does. You should have bonded with someone else."
“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes and flew faster.
The landscape shifted below us, scorched earth giving way to rolling hills, then dense forest. It was something I always looked forward to on my way home, the beautiful painting that was Drakkonia.
The double suns were setting, painting everything in shades of amber and blood.
"We're taking the mountain route," Zephyr said suddenly, banking left.
“Um.. why? It's longer. We need to get to the healer like you said.”
“And you need to get your emotions in check or you'll attack somebody again.”
“Who would have thought? My dragon is the one teaching me how to behave like a gentleman.”
“What can I say? I'm a beast of many talents,” he rumbled, pride puffing in his chest.
I chuckled as I adjusted my form on his back, relaxing a bit more.
The mountain route was quieter. Good.
It gave me space to breathe before I had to face whatever waited at the capital.
I'd take a day to rest back at the academy and then head off to see the King.
We flew in silence, and I tried to let the wind clear my head.
Tried not to think about the lab.
Tried not to think about the King's cold eyes watching me like I was a puzzle to be solved.
It was difficult until I tried the replacement strategy. The ability to move from one worry level to a higher one but on the opposite side. Excitement. It was usually difficult for me to do but recently, I've been finding one consistent matter that could switch my mood from horrible to joy in a second.
Alira.
The girl from another world with fire that burned hotter than mine ever could.
I'd thought about her during those long nights at the border. Wondered if she was still at the Academy. If she'd survived the training.
If she remembered the instructor who'd flirted with her before being sent off to war.
‘Probably not,’ I told myself.
But a pathetic part of me hoped she did.
Then Zephyr went rigid beneath me.
"Florian."
His voice was sharp. Urgent.
"What is it?” I asked, instantly alert.
"Look down below, there's something. Do you see it?"
I looked down at the mountain road winding through the forest.
The air was shimmering.
Wrong.
Distorted like reality was bending in on itself. My blood went cold.
"It's a leech. Fuck. Go lower!"
I grabbed my bow despite my screaming shoulder, eyes scanning the road.
But I didn't see anyone.
No collapsed figure. No victim.
Just the shimmer.
"Where's the host?" Zephyr asked, confused.
"I don't know. Maybe it's still forming—"
The shimmer swelled.
Suddenly. Violently.
The distortion expanded like a tumour, reality warping around it.
And for a split second, I saw something inside it.
A figure. Small. Wrapped in shadow.
I nocked an arrow, drew back about to shoot, my magic always dealt with it swiftly but –
The void exploded.
Bursting into bright light that blinded even me for a moment.
A scream rang behind it.
Guttural.
Familiar.
“Alira?”