I closed mine and allowed myself to finally slide into a wakeful slumber.
At some point, Cricker would return. And I’d have to fight for the rights to my bunk.
I had little doubt I would win.
6
Riggs
I stared down at my son.
Cara leaned over him, her hands tracing the livid burns on his skin. He lay on one of two Dragon-sized beds in the room—his cousin snored from the other one. She had placed both the boys into healing comas.
Mykal. His name was Mykal.
My heart constricted. Was it the tearing kind of worry that a father should feel? Or merely regret that he’d been injured? I had no memories of him, but something deeper was at work here.
Tyrez sat on the bed beside his own son. One big hand rested on the boy’s arm. His features revealed his relief at having him safe. Now that our family was here, my brother had regained the calm demeanor I’d seen at the academy. He was like a glacial lake—still at the surface most of the time, but the undercurrents ran deep. And all heck broke loose if you plumbed them.
Was I remembering? Or was it just based on what I’d seen of him?
Watching him with his son, and glancing to the small body on the other bed—suddenly, rather than the emptiness of loss for something I could no longer experience, I was angry. Icould handle what they’d done to me. Could even, perhaps, find the humor in it—that a Legion Dragon could even become a wingless, tattooed foreign student with fancy earcuffs and a theoretical womanizing past.
But now they’d tried to kill myson.
And the rage flooded through me. They would pay. I would make them pay.
A warm presence appeared beside me. I dropped my gaze to meet Breana’s eyes—dark brown surrounding chestnut centers—and what I read in them eased the turmoil within me. I didn’t know this woman, not really. But a single look from her soothed away the jagged thoughts.
Something surged from within, something powerful and primal that insisted she was a part of me.
Cara straightened. “He is resting comfortably now. Both will be fine, but they will bear scars for the rest of their lives.”
A muscle jumped in Tyrez’s jaw. He looked up at me, and then back to her. “You need to get Riggs and Bree back to the academy,” Tyrez said. “How are you going to explain their absence?”
The Watcher huffed a laugh. “I’m not. I’m going to ask Riley for one last favor.”
The big shifter raised a brow, but then he nodded. “That would be best. Just make sure they don’t still stink. Popping back in smelling of Fire Drake smoke will set off anything with a nose.”
“Good point.” Cara turned to meet my gaze, and her brows dropped at what she read there. The Watcher gestured me out into the hall beyond. “Come with me.”
I followed her. Instead of spending more time in my jumbled brain, I examined the walls as we walked the short distance to the stairs.
They were created from living wood because Cara’s hideaway existed inside a giant tree. Or rather, a collection of them, growing in a circle and forming a hollow center. The treehouse had multiple stories, each floor formed by branches that had grown flat rather than round. The stairs were the same, and I had to watch my step as they weren’t regular in height.
When we reached the next level up, we ran into my mother.
She wore her scaled bodysuit, but those along one arm were ridged and distorted. She, too, would bear permanent scars from the fire. Her gaze sought mine, and the pain in them froze my breath.
“Are you two all right?” she asked, as her eyes moved to Breana.
“I’m okay,” Breana answered. “We were all very lucky.”
Was I okay? No. No, I wasn’t. But I told her what she needed to hear. “I’m fine.”
“You are supposed to be resting,” Cara scolded her gently.
“Sirki is still asleep. Banta is with her.” She looked down the stairs. “I’m going to stay with the boys. I have no idea what to tell them.”
