Bloodlines: Dragon Rider Book 2

Book 3: Chapter 1: Shadows Edge

While you wait for book three, a little thing to bring you guys joy. Also, in case anyone was wondering, we'll see the return of Cora, Lydia, and Maryanne. : )

Norah

 "So they're the backup?" I ask incredulously, dipping my chin. The kitchen is crowded with people with silver hair, shoving cheese and grapes, and slices of meat into their mouths. Voices boom, laughter rings, and my ears ache.

Holland hugs a woman no taller than Riveta and shares his crisp, blue eyes. But where his hair is like slivers of moonlight, hers is raven black and twisted into a low bun. She takes his head, inspecting for any injuries. Their lips move in words I can't hear.

"I know," Riveta says, giving me a sympathetic smile. "They're a lot and a bit... Loud."

My head bobs, lips pressing. I watch as another Holland opens the back door and sets down his sword among a sea of others. He's built like a typical dragon rider, broad shoulders, strong thighs, and corded muscle. And while he looks older than most dragon riders, the real sigh of his age on his unlined face were his blue eyes--deep, knowing and solemn.

He hugs Riveta so tightly her back pops. "I see they didn't waste time horking down food," he says, smiling.

Riveta beams at him. "It was the first thing they did, Bronn," she says, a hand going to my shoulder.

His eyes flick to me and his grin turns a bit wicked. He slaps my shoulder with his large hand and squeezes. "So this is the famous Norah, Holland won't stop talking about. How are you, kiddo?"

Good, I want to say but lying in a house filled with people who can detect lies would leave a bad first impression.

So I say, "as well as I can be."

His lips purse, pleased. Morrigan takes his arm, throwing it over her shoulders to push to her toes and kiss his cheek. "Hi, Dad."

She turns to me, her long, wavy locks of silver brushing her mid-back. I see the resemblance between her and Holland. Their sharp chins, pale skin, blue eyes, and height - I have to tip my head to meet their gaze.

"Holland's told us so much about you," she says in an impassive voice, but I hear the sharp edge of judgment all mages wield. She hollers over her shoulder, "but he's never let us meet you."

Holland makes a face and waves her off to hug a man who could be his twin. But where Holland is naturally intimidating with his usual scowl, his brother radiates calmness.

"All good things?" I ask, trying to muster up the old Norah, the girl who was good at pretending and smiling. But all I feel is exhaustion, the bruises shadowing my eyes. Knives continue to twist and rip through my veins as the tendrils slither over me.

Her lips press into a tight smile, shrugging.

"Mor, leave her alone!" Holland calls from across the kitchen.

The woman spins, marching over. "I was just telling the truth, Bram."

Their bickering drowns in the sea of other voices.

Bronn rolls his eyes, and turns back to Riveta and I. "I am a little curious why Holland showed up at our doors and said 'family emergency, bring a sword.' And then left."

"He's not much for words, is he?" I mumble, flinching when Bronn slaps his chest and bellows.

I smile a little as he laughs, though The Darkening's thunder and shouting float into my thoughts. I snuff it out when Bronn ruffles my hair, still wet from the shower. "I like her already." And then he joins the other's in the kitchen and Riveta follows, giving me a look of encouragement.