fear and faced her, anger stamping out
the worry. “You will not experiment on Connor. I won’t allow it.”
Elinor’s eyelashes fluttered down to her cheeks. “I would
never hurt another living being. It is against everything I stand for. I had
hoped you’d know that about me by now.”
“I just met you,” Bastian exclaimed. “I don’t presume to
know anything about you.”
“My only purpose in life is to heal. If I could have the
chance to learn how to heal a real dragon. To understand it.” She clasped her
hands to her chest. “Bastian, it would mean everything to me.”
He sighed and folded his arms. In the distance, Connor
continued to dive and toss fish to Fotia, providing for his child like any
father would. Even though he’d changed and didn’t remember his old life, that
dragon was still his best friend.
“If you hurt him…” Bastian warned Elinor.
“I won’t. I swear it! Oh, this is the most wonderful day of
my life!” Elinor jumped at Bastian and before he knew it, she was in his arms.
Chapter Fourteen
Tressa woke the next morning, her head groggy. She’d drunk
too much of Jarrett’s spiced wine and fallen asleep on the lush pillows. When
she awoke, a silken sheet covered her. Jarrett slept on the pillows too, but too
far away to touch. She rolled over, her back to him.
He’d kept true to his word. He hadn’t so much as tried to
kiss her. A perfect gentleman. It warmed her heart. Perhaps they could be
friends, just as she had been with Connor.
Connor. Between the shock at Hutton’s Bridge and passing
out in the desert, she’d been preoccupied. There hadn’t been time to
contemplate the blue dragon that’d saved her and helped her defeat Stacia.
Clutching an emerald pillow to her chest, Tressa stuffed
her chin into it, holding back tears. She hadn’t cried since Granna died. Not
when Connor's body had been shredded into bloody ribbons by Stacia’s spiked braid.
Not when she’d left Bastian behind in the forest. Not when her mentor, Leo,
died for her in the ring so she could infiltrate the Black Guard. Not when
Bastian had been injured and she’d had to leave him once again to pursue the
mystery in Hutton’s Bridge.
She’d left so much behind. And now, not knowing what was
ahead. Tressa ached down to her bones. Her heart felt like a permanently
tangled knot. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Salty tears slipped down her cheeks. She could have held
her breath, forced them to stay hidden. Instead, they streamed down her face,
turning the silk black where her tears landed. Salt covered her lips.
Tressa didn’t wipe the tears away. Instead, she closed her
eyes and gave herself a few moments to feel release. A hand on her shoulder
interrupted her quiet moment. Tressa rubbed her eyelids, pretending to wipe
sleep away and gave what she hoped was a convincing yawn.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Jarrett whispered in her ear.
She sat up, smoothing out her gown. Pushing her worries to the
back of her mind, Tressa gave herself over to the moment, trusting in Jarrett
to get them where they needed to be. Once they found help, she’d begin fighting
again. For now, there was little to do but follow.
Tressa grasped Jarrett’s outstretched hand and stood. Her
cream skin stood in stark comparison to the dark brown of his.
He pushed aside the silken curtain. Tressa threw an arm
over her eyes as the blazing sun assaulted her. Squinting, Tressa squeezed
Jarrett’s hand. “I’m not used to anything this bright. It was always slightly
overcast in Hutton’s Bridge.”
Jarrett laughed. “I know how you feel. I felt it was too
dark in the Drowned Country. I worried I’d die in the competition just because
I couldn’t see as sharply. It was like constantly looking through a haze.”
The camels kicked the sand around, their mouths foaming.
Low, bellowing bleats fell from their wet flappy lips. Their stink made her
eyes water. She kept her focus on the sand beneath her sandaled feet