Bloodlines: Dragon Rider Book 2

Chapter 21: A Bloody Encounter With Emotions

Hey everyone,

Wow, this chapter was an emotional roller coaster for me. I had to take breaks because, like Norah, I don't know to deal with my own emotions, and Riveta is a very emotional person. I can handle the crippling depression and numb feelings, but the moment I write something REMOTELY happy and lovingly I need cringe.

Too many emotions. :)

"What do you want?" Holland demands, hovering over me protectively. He glares at Celest with one of my arms looped around his neck. I barely notice the way he leans over me trying to compensate for our drastic height differences.

"I want to do my job," Celest says impassively, looking pointedly at the blood spilling out of my stomach and to the burns littering my skin. "I'm a skin healer with Clarika-"

"We've had enough mage help."

Rima snaps at nearby students and instructors, ready to tear them to ribbons if they get too close. Her eyes flick to me, making sure I haven't fallen or slipped. But even if I had, her head is inches from mine, ready to catch me. Still, I'm grateful for their protection and let them pull me through this... Just this once.

I breathe in short, shallow breaths that makes the crowd around me tilt sideways. A burning ball of fire sears the walls of my lungs. I try to hide the wheeze but Rima sees it and Holland feels my chest hitch. Blood trickles down my temple, running over my lips. The scabs and charred skin split open if I wince or frown too hard.

Celest tilts her head, arching her brows when my hand presses to my stomach. Her black coils bounce with the movement, brushing over her shoulders as her gaze silently implores Holland to act. Come on rider, separate those emotions and think.

Holland understands the look perfectly and breathes in deeply. He holds her stare for a beat longer before glancing down at the warped armor melted to my body. Though I don't feel the pain now, I feel the contorted metal digging and piercing my side.

"Fine. Just be fast," he snaps.

Rima starts over to the nearest bench, snapping her jaws for the students to scramble. They do, but I don't care enough to watch them leave. I focus on staying conscious, leaning all of my weight on Holland. Even still my muscles scream in protest.

He eases me onto the bench, eyeing the way my face contorts in pain.

I slump against Rima's snout, acting as a make-shift wall. Though I try to preserve the little dignity I have left, most of me is too exhausted to sit up correctly. I press a hand to my bleeding side, wincing.

Holland steps back, making just enough room for Celest. He watches her like a hawk, muscles rigid and ready to knock the healer away if she tries anything.

She squats in front of me, taking my head in her soft hands. Her touch is cool, like aloe on a sunburn. Her fingers run down my temple to my jaw, following my mother's destruction until she's at the base of my neck, fingers grazing my grey armor. Her abilities spread to my stomach, weaving together muscles and skin until only a hole through my suit is what remains of a stabbing.

It's all over in a few moments, and I feel as whole as I did before entering the arena. My old aches and pains are completely gone. But while the physical trauma has disappeared, Renora's words are still sharp in my mind. These people you put all your faith into don't even care about you.

Dragon riders and mages stare at me from their seats. Some look pale with wide eyes while others look more than satisfied. My nails, torn and battered, dig into the bench until I've found a new source of pain to focus on. Hundreds of people, mages and riders and instructors saw what Renora was doing. They saw how unfair that fight had been and how quickly Renora made it personal, singling me out against the many others.