Fire Breather

27.

"WE'RE going to die."

I braced my hands on my hips, craning my neck up to see my brother struggling to not die as he mounted Tairn on the flight field. Half an hour ago, I was enjoying my morning run and then my brother found me and dragged me all the way here just so we could put a saddle on Tairn—who clearly wasn't a fan of the two of us.

"Just help me, Blaine!" Xaden grumbled, pointing at the saddle harness near my feet.

I eyed the saddle straps, then Tairn's golden eyes on me, then the saddle again. "Do you want me to die?"

Tairn huffed, a blast of steam blowing against my face, and I waved him off, rolling my eyes. He certainly had an attitude.

"Just latch the damn thing on him," Xaden ordered me, sending down an annoyed look. "He said he won't eat you."

"I highly doubt that," I muttered, walking into Tairn's shadow with his head looming high above me. "Are we sure it even fits him?"

My question was answered when a gust of fire went straight past my back, heating up the back of my body and sending my heart skyrocketing.

"Don't mention your size. Noted," I whispered with a gulp. "Xade, you fucking owe me big time for this!"

Another blast of fire went past my back, followed by a growl.

"I wasn't even talking to you, Massive One!"

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

   "SO, what's our plan for your birthday next month?" Liam asked me in the middle of May, the first battle of the War Games to be started shortly.

Battle Briefs had been getting more redacted. Professor Carr was pushing me to my limits with my powers—because of that, we discovered my blood could turn into poison. Garrick had been stuck to my hip whenever he could while Xaden had been getting more secretive, allowing me less and less to sneak out weapons.

"I'll plan my birthday the day before," I simply answered with a small smile, standing in formation in the center of the courtyard with the rest of Fourth Wing. "You know, to see if I'm still alive then."

Ridoc, Rhiannon, and Violet groaned at that response.

I laughed, waving them off. "I'm just thinking efficiently, okay?"

"Efficiently my ass," Liam snorted. "What do you think our assignment is going to be? Deigh thinks we're on offense. He won't stop going on about getting to kick Gleann's ass—" He paused. "Guess dragons hold grudges."

"We're definitely on offense," Rhiannon answered as leadership gathered ahead of us, getting their assignments from my brother. "Otherwise, we'd already be in the field. I haven't seen a single rider from First Wing since launch."

"Of course, they'd be our first opponent," I dryly muttered, pushing the sleeves of my tunic up to my elbows, readying to cut my forearms when needed.

During War Games, anything goes, and Jack Barlowe hadn't forgotten that Violet put him in the infirmary and that I choked him with her own blood on the mat.

"I think she's right," Violet said, fidgeting with her flight leathers. "Why do you think riders wear black anyway?"

"Because it's badass," Ridoc answered.

"So it's harder to see when we bleed," Imogen chimed in.

"Forget I asked," Violet mumbled.

"You guys heard from Mira or Axel?" Rhiannon whispered, shooting us a quick glance.