The Verum Trilogy - Survivor

Chapter 12

Bree felt a shock like the air around her was charged and a sharp burn erupted around her collarbone, spiderwebbing through her chest and shoulder like a stroke of lightning. She dropped to her knees, nails digging into the clasps of her uniform to tear it off. She was certain her skin was on fire.

You little brat, Blue hissed, then paused when Red lifted a lip and growled at Blue, eyes locked on Bree. Pants of pain left her chest in ragged gasps as she ripped off her uniform and freed herself of the undershirt beneath, prepared to smother the flames, but when they fell to the ground they were intact, not a flicker in sight.

Stop, Red commanded, and Blue froze. They're bonded.

Impossible, Blue scoffed.

Look at her. She's marked.

Blue blinked, a growl ripping through his throat, and Bree looked down at the skin beneath her collarbone. An old scar had resurfaced, white lines raised and throbbing, pulsing like electricity was building beneath the soft skin of her chest and slowly spreading to her neck and shoulder.

That's impossible, Blue snarled. He's a feral runt. He can't even breathe fire.

And yet, we cannot harm them. They belong to the humans now.

Blue backed up a pace, golden eyes filled with hate.

We can't kill bonded humans, he corrected, But if you ever come back here, runt, I'll tear out your throat myself,

Black hissed at him. Red nudged Blue and he snapped at her, making her snarl back as they launched themselves from the cavern and back into the valley. Bree felt a snout jab her between the shoulders. She stumbled and turned, only to find herself inches from a pair of fiercely intelligent eyes, darker than the night itself. She saw fire reflected in his gaze, ash and snow falling on blistered skin and scale while a forsaken city burned.

"I... I know you," she whispered, eyes wide. He tilted his head to the side, and she knew somehow that he remembered her, too. "You got bigger," she observed. He slowly lifted a lip, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth, and she suddenly forgot how to swallow.

"Avery!" Soren roared, and Black slowly turned his head, attention falling on the Lieutenant. His sword was half drawn, grip so tight around the hilt his knuckles were white. "That is my recruit, Dragon, and therefore belongs to the Corps. She will be appropriately disciplined for this intrusion, I swear it."

Bree stepped forward from beneath Black's wing, and Soren's eyes locked with hers.

"Avery, listen to me. I want you to drop the weapon and walk toward me, very, very slowly."

She turned back to Black.

"Do not look at him!" Soren hissed, and she glanced back at her section leader. Black nudged her shoulder again, this time in the direction of the steep drop at the mouth of the cavern.

"Um," she nervously stepped toward the edge, glancing over her shoulder. "The other dragons said we're bonded, so I don't think he's going to h—"

Come.

The voice sliced through her mind like it had been shouted directly in her ear, jarring through her head and making her instantly dizzy.

"W-what did you just say?" Soren stuttered. Bree paused, surprised. She'd never heard her section leader misplace a syllable before. Done waiting, Black snarled impatiently and knocked her toward the mouth of the cavern. She stumbled against the edge and scrambled back, only to find her back pressed against an unmoving, scaly foreleg.

She stared over the ledge at the dizzying drop below, blood pressure rising.

"Well, I was going to say I don't think he'll hurt me, but now I'm not so s—aah!

Black knocked her off the ledge, tucking his wings and diving after her a moment later. All the air left Bree's lungs in a gasp as she tumbled through water and met empty air, suspended by nothing for a gut-wrenching moment. Then sharp claws curled around the collar of her leathers and yanked her skyward. Shock stole her voice, numbness spreading through her fingers and toes as she stared at the valley tipping below her, back and forth with each wing thrust. Nausea climbed in her throat.

She was roughly dropped at the flight entrance to the healer's alcove less than a minute later. Her legs immediately buckled, sending her sprawling on her hands and knees. Confused, she stared back and forth between the entrance and the open sky behind her. Black had vanished.

"What's wrong with you?" a tired woman with little half-moon spectacles and a tight bun at the nape of her neck emerged from the door and prodded Bree with her staff. "Come now, what's the injury? I'm a busy woman."

"I—I don't know," she whispered, confused. "Black just... left me here."

The woman rubbed her eyes.

"Lena!" she barked. "Get a neural exam prepped, we've got a disoriented Rider, about a hundred pounds, female, looks like some possible trauma to the chest. I need Bed Three prepped to receive her."

"Heard, Ma'am!" came a young shout.

Her chest. Her chest?

Bree slowly looked down at herself, at the six neat punctures in her skin. They weren't deep, but now that the rush of adrenaline was fading, some of the pain was beginning to trickle in.

"D-dragon claws," she told the woman. "A dragon sat on me."

The woman looked skyward and murmured a prayer for patience.

"How Riders keep ending up with the beasts the wrong way around amazes me. You know you're supposed to be the one riding them, don't you?"

Bree just stared at her, numb.

"I-I'm not a Rider, I'm just a recruit."

"Oh Gods, here we go." The woman took Bree's arm, firmly but gently. "I know a Vilsnek mark when I see one, girl. Lena! She's going into shock, get blankets and fluids prepped."