Bloodlines: Dragon Rider Book 2

Epilogue: Home Is Where Family Is

Norah

I am so tired.

A kind that I have never endured before, a tired that goes down past the skin and muscle and even bone. It rakes it's fingers through my mind until everything ripples and blurs. A tired that makes it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to be.

But we're home.

I've had a lot of time to think about what home means in my late-nights. I do not imagine a house, or an island. I think of dinners at the table with Riveta and Holland. Of jokes and sarcasm and laughter. I think of Riveta setting up the holiday decorations because that makes her happy. I think of her baking and the sweet aromas that come with it. When I think of home, I think of them and the warmth they bring.

One more step, I tell myself. One more step.

Everything aches but I step onto the patio and to the door. Holland unlocks it, just as eager to be here.

It's just us now. Easton went to visit his family, and for the first time, I think about how they must have been so worried. He came after me, left his family to make sure I was safe. I wonder if his parents ever sent out a search party for their son, if they knew what he was doing.

I know he will tell his parents about me. About the Gods. And then everyone will know and I will never have a moment alone.

The lock clicks and Holland holds the door for me. I walk in, inspecting the stairs first for Riveta, then to the couch, she sits and reads on. But Holland says she isn't here and neither is Thorn which means she's at work.

"You have first dibs at showers, kid."

I look up at Holland, barely caring enough to read the concern engraved on his face. Holland can see it. Can see that exhaustion has narrowed its ways into my bones. How nights of torture have eaten away at me. The week it took to get here felt like a thousand and I stopped caring to try and hide it.

I do as told and find my bag filled with clean clothes upstairs in the guest bedroom.

Steam fogs the room, opening the deepest parts of my lungs. I sit, slumped against the corner of the tub, my bones brittle, and stomach a rolling mess. I surge forward, trying to be as quiet as possible as I empty my stomach.

It's not bile. It was never been bile.

Squirm sticks his face into the shower, antlers catching the water and spraying into my eyes. I throw the curtain around his face and gently push him back.

Blood swirls the drain as the front door clicks open. There's a clunk, like a heavy bag falling, then, "Bram!"

I close my eyes, fighting the nausea. My throat burns.

Eventually it subsides and I leave to get dressed, trying not to stay in too long. Holland will want to shower too.

Voices muffle as I dress and check for any remnants of blood. Squirm watches the entire time. Normally I wouldn't have let him in, but he must have slipped in before I shut the door.

I make my way out, already dreading the trudge down the stairs when I decide to sit on the top and lean against the wall. Squirm rests his head on my knee, tail twitching when I pat his head.

"Rima's talked to me," Holland says, exasperated. "She says Norah won't sleep. And I've tried to talk to her about it, but she refuses."

"Have you just sat there until she does it," Riveta suggests. "You know she'll do anything if you sit there."