CHAPTER 2
Word traveled fast.
Before I’d even had time to wrap my mind around what happened, I had orders to report to Commandant Iverson as soon as I’d seen to my bondmate. Bethany stayed with me as long as she could, but eventually she had to leave for a training flight, and then it was just me, a hangry griffin cub, and one of the griffin Mavens. The woman was incredibly patient with me, given that I was suffering from shock and had very little idea of how to care for a newborn griffin.
Her brisk practicality and complete lack of sympathy were exactly what I needed to compartmentalize and function, and soon enough my griffin had been cleaned and fed. The moment his belly was full, he promptly passed out. Affectionately, I nuzzled the top of his head with my cheek, and he let out a faint, whistling snore. Being born was hard.
Despite everything, a fond smile tugged at my lips. Every second we spent together, breathing the same air, hearts beating the same rhythm, deepened our bond. Already, I loved him with my whole heart. I stroked a hand down his spine and never wanted to leave the warmth of the hatchery . . . but my reluctance to move was only partly due to the bundle of fur and feathers sprawled across my lap.
If I moved, it’d be real, but I’d delayed as long as I dared.
With a heavy sigh, I gathered up my sleeping griffin and stood on legs that had gone numb. As I stomped my feet to get the blood flowing, I absently wished I could steal all that numb and use it to armor my heart, because I was feeling raw and more than a little broken.
I knew what was coming.
Hiding in the hatchery wouldn’t change a damn thing though, so I put some steel in my spine and declined the Maven’s offer to leave my griffin in the crèche while I answered my summons. I wasn’t ready to let him go, and the woman’s serene smile was at once approving and full of understanding. That smile said she thought I needed him right now, probably more than he needed me. She was right.
His limp body was a comforting weight in my arms as I strode out of the humid warmth of the hatchery and into the cooler fall air. My steps slowed, and I stumbled to a halt only a few paces beyond the doors. The brilliant sunlight was a shock to more than my eyes. It felt as if days had passed since my morning flight, but it was only early afternoon, and the academy grounds were bustling. Cadets rushed past on their way to classes, training flights, and combat lessons, and the familiar cacophony washed over me in a wave of white noise.
My griffin made a sleepy noise of protest and snuggled deeper into my chest, though whether he was protesting the cold, the light, or the racket was unclear. His sleepy baby thoughts were a muddle of impressions and emotions. Words would come later. I tightened my hold on him, drew in a deep breath, and strode across the quad.
After the third dragon rider cadet I knew avoided my gaze, I kept my eyes focused on my destination, refusing to look at anyone. I didn’t need their pity, and I sure as hell didn’t need to see their relief that it hadn’t happened to them, or worse, the satisfaction on some of their faces.
They’d wanted to see me fall. Well, fuck them.
I marched across the quad with my head held high and my face expressionless. I’d be damned before I let them see me break, and the only one who could tell it was nothing more than a flimsy mask was snoring in my arms.
The worst part was I understood the reactions. Dragon rider cadets were a competitive, arrogant bunch. We had to be to fly dragons in combat, and I was no different. I hadn’t even let my friendships with . . . my mind skittered away from the thought.
I didn’t want to think about them. Not now, not when my griffin was sleeping and my building rage might wake him. Because I knew exactly who was responsible for my dragon egg being swapped for a griffin, and so did the officers who ran the academy. Not that it mattered, not really. What was done was done, and all that was left was the administrative cleanup.
Dread sank through my stomach like a rock as I pushed open the doors to the dragon rider admin building with my foot. I knew what was coming. I’d bonded a griffin. Intentional or not, I couldn’t stay with the dragon riders. I wasn’t one of them.
Not anymore.
The sergeant manning the front desk swept a cool, professional gaze over me as my steps dragged across the lobby. At her expectant look, I forced my feet to move faster until I stood before the desk. I opened my mouth to report in, but I couldn’t get any words past the knot constricting my throat.
A frown drifted across the sergeant’s face, but then her stern expression softened as recognition flared in her eyes. Her normal, brown, perfectly ordinary eyes. She wasn’t one of the bonded. The older woman was one of the many support staff who kept the academy running, someone most cadets never thought about.
“He’s beautiful,” she said, something not quite sympathy in her voice. Longing maybe, mixed with genuine appreciation. “Forest or mountain breed?”
My eyes dropped to my sleeping griffin of their own volition, and I found my voice. “Forest.”
Bred to blend in, to sneak, to scout. Not to fight. Soft feline paws instead of eagle talons, and dappled fur and wings, lighter and darker spots to break up the golden brown. The spray of feathers at the end of his long tail tickled my side as it idly flicked back and forth. His beak gaped just a little as he snored, and his tufted ears twitched as he dreamed griffin dreams.
He wasn’t just beautiful. He was utterly adorable.
I forced my gaze back up to the sergeant’s and cleared my throat. “Cadet Tavros reporting.”
Her professional expression settled into place. “Commandant Iverson is expecting you. You can wait outside his office. He’s just finishing up with his . . . prior appointment.”
My brow furrowed at the odd hesitation, but I nodded and strode deeper into the building. I knew the way. I’d been there just a few weeks and a lifetime ago for a one-on-one counseling session about my choice in dragon specialization. Just like Captain Durant, Commandant Iverson had urged me to switch to a gray, the backbone of our fighting forces. When I’d respectfully declined, he’d shocked me by offering up the sole black dragon egg in the hatchery.
It was the first one the Mavens had been able to produce in years. Again, I’d respectfully declined, but damn it had been a near thing. The riders of black dragons tended to become Dragon Corps commanders, and not just because their dragons were nigh-unstoppable tanks. From the commandant, that had been one hell of a vote of confidence, but I’d stood by my decision.
I’d wanted a green.
My arms tightened around my griffin, a subconscious reaction to the yearning the thought engendered. When he grumbled, I forced my grip to relax. I’d never have a green, but I had him. It was enough. He was enough.
As I marched down the main hallway, I could hear Iverson bellowing even though half a building separated us. Anticipation curled with the dread circling my belly, slowing my steps again as I turned the corner toward his office. His closed office.
So that was why the sergeant had hesitated. Commandant Iverson wasn’t in a prior appointment—he was in the middle of delivering an epic ass-chewing. And I knew exactly which cadets were on the other side of that door. Even better, I didn’t even have to try to eavesdrop. Despite the fact that the thick wooden door was firmly shut, I had no problem hearing every word as the commandant ripped into the cadets who’d destroyed my life.
I leaned against the wall across from his office, adjusted my griffin’s limp weight so some of it rested on my hip, and settled in to enjoy the show.
“One of our best dragon rider cadets reduced to a griffin’s bondmate! You’ll be cleaning latrines with your personal toothbrushes for the rest of your time here! That’s if we don’t drum you out for deliberate sabotage of a cadet’s future and robbing the Tennessan military of a promising young rider!”
“It was just a joke!” Callum’s defiant voice grated on my nerves, and my fingers itched to curl up into a fist. “She’s so obsessed with her egg, we figured she’d notice in seconds! Maybe she’s not as good as you thought, sir, if she couldn’t tell the difference between a griffin and dragon egg.”
My lip curled up into a snarl. Thank you, Cal, for being the first to volunteer to get punched in the face.
“Or maybe she was distracted because the damn thing started to hatch the moment she picked it up!” Commandant Iverson roared as something—probably his fist—cracked against his desk. “You morons not only deprived Cadet Tavros of her chance to bond with her dragon, you deprived a griffin cadet of his intended bondmate!”
I . . . hadn’t thought of that. I’d been so wrapped up in my own problems, I’d forgotten about the griffin cadet whose place I’d inadvertently taken. At least he could just wait for the next clutch. His future hadn’t been destroyed, only delayed.
A tiny snore drew my gaze down to my griffin, who somehow managed to remain asleep throughout the tirade. I sighed and adjusted his weight again, my arms beginning to feel the strain of carrying him. A nest could’ve magically appeared at my feet in that moment and I still would’ve carried him. No matter how much I resented the circumstances, I couldn’t resent him. He was perfect, and completely oblivious to the upheaval he’d caused in my perfectly planned life.
I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes. I’d been so close to my dream . . .
“We didn’t know the griffin clutch was supposed to hatch today,” Zayne said carefully. “I didn’t think—”
“That’s obvious, Cadet Serrano! If you don’t start using your brains, I’ll have you out on your ass faster than you can whine about who your daddy is.” Dead silence fell but for the nervous shuffling of feet and the squeak of a desk chair. Iverson broke it with a growl that sounded more like it came from his red dragon’s maw than a human throat. “Cadet Thompson! You’ve been remarkably quiet. Anything you’d like to say in your defense?”
Despite myself, I held my breath and leaned closer to the door. More than anything, I wanted to know what Dimitri had to say.
“No, sir,” he said flatly. “I have nothing to say.”
I froze. My best friend, the person I trusted more than anyone else in the world, had nothing to say?
My heart cracked.
A rumble from deep in my griffin’s chest jerked my tear-filled gaze down. It wasn’t a growl. Even though he was still sleeping, my little bondmate had sensed my distress and was purring. The soothing sound was far louder than I’d expected from a baby fluffball, and I cuddled him closer, finally able to breathe again.
“What will happen to Harper?” Zayne asked quietly.
“Cadet Tavros will be transferred to the griffin riders.” Iverson’s tone of voice made it clear what he thought of griffin riders. As if they were lesser because they weren’t dragon riders. The fact that I’d shared that opinion until an hour ago was irrelevant. “She’ll never be the asset she should’ve been thanks to you three.” After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, he growled, “You’re all to report to Sergeant Spencer for punishment detail.”
Recognizing the signs of impending dismissal, I hurriedly wiped away my tears and straightened up. I would show them nothing.
“For how long?” Callum asked cautiously before he hurriedly tacked on a “sir.”
He’d always found verbal discipline the hardest of the four of us. A born smartass, but one hell of a fighter.
“As long as I feel like, Cadet, which as of right now is until you graduate. Assuming Cadet Tavros doesn’t convince me to boot all of you out on your asses! Now get the hell out of my office.”
The door opened, and three cadets in pristine dress uniforms tumbled out into the hall. I was suddenly very aware of my sweaty flying leathers and the strands of hair plastered to my face. I looked and felt like a mess in comparison, but I lifted my chin and refused to show it.
For an instant, they froze. Time slowed as I stared at them. My best friends, my rivals, my betrayers.
Callum glared at me in a mix of defiance and guilt though his complexion turned ashen, while Zayne couldn’t even look me in the eye as he mumbled a miserable apology at his boots. Dimitri just stared back at me, expressionless, eyes blank.
My jaw flexed, and if it weren’t for the griffin in my arms, I might’ve punched him right then and there, if only to get some kind of reaction out of him. Mentally, I moved him above Callum on my “to be punched” list.
“Cadet Tavros!”
I tore my gaze off my former friends and marched into the commandant’s office with my head held high. Unfortunately, I had no way to close the door unless I wanted to use my foot. Somehow, I didn’t think Commandant Iverson would react well if I kicked his door shut.
Zayne glanced back, saw the problem, and carefully pulled it closed for me with another mumbled apology. He was definitely at the bottom of my list. Then again, with how apologetic he was acting, it wouldn’t shock me in the least if he was the one who’d figured out how to switch the eggs. With as closely as the Mavens watched the hatcheries, it would’ve taken a lot of planning—something he excelled in.
To my shock, Commandant Iverson came out from around his desk and pulled out a chair. “Sit, Cadet. I know that furball’s got to be getting heavy.”
His voice was just as brusque as ever, but there was no animosity or anger in his tone. Struggling to hide my relief, I sat, arranging my griffin across my legs and covertly stretching my arms.
“Thank you, sir.” As ridiculously difficult as it was to remain professional with a snoring griffin cub in my lap, I did my best to maintain proper military bearing. “Cadet Tavros reporting as ordered.”
A faint smile creased his weathered face, there and gone in an instant as he sat in the opposite chair. “At ease, Cadet. You’re not in trouble, and this meeting is more of a formality than anything else. The paperwork to transfer you over to the Griffin Corps is already complete, effective immediately.” He sighed when I wasn’t quite able to suppress my flinch. “For what it’s worth, you have my sympathies.”
My jaw flexed, but I managed to keep my tone even. “Respectfully, sir, I don’t want sympathy.”
He studied me for a moment before he dipped his head in a short nod. “Neither would I.” His eyes narrowed. “If I were in your boots, I’d want revenge.”
For just a moment, I thought about it, really thought about it. Iverson had just heavily implied that if I truly wanted to, I could destroy the cadets who’d destroyed me. Utterly, without the risk of retaliation. The temptation faded as quickly as it had flared up. That wasn’t who I wanted to be . . . and deep down, I knew they hadn’t meant for this to happen.
It didn’t mean I was ever going to forgive them, but it also didn’t give me the right to ruin their careers. Tennessan needed every dragon rider it could get.
Slowly, I shook my head. “I don’t want that either, sir.”
Approval shone in his eyes. “You don’t think it was deliberate sabotage then? I know the four of you were competing for the top slot.”
I swallowed hard.
“No, sir. It . . . it wasn’t malicious, no more than any other prank we played on each other in the past year.” A laugh that was only slightly bitter escaped my control. “Though if you want to have them scrubbing latrines with toothbrushes for the rest of the year, I wouldn’t be sad about it.”
There was a flicker of amusement on Iverson’s face, shocking because the only emotions I’d ever seen were anger, fury, and rage, in that order.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He stood and pulled open the door. “Commandant Pulaski is expecting you.”
My jaw clenched as I hauled my griffin into my arms and slowly stood up. Pulaski was over the griffin riders . . . and my new commander. I was proud when my voice came out steady.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, Cadet Tavros.” Iverson hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but in the end, he just gave me a brisk nod. “Dismissed.”
My steps started out even, steady, but by the time I reached the front doors, I was practically sprinting. As if I could escape my new reality if I just ran fast enough. I burst out of the admin building, lungs heaving for air, and ran halfway across the grounds before I stumbled to a stop. Thankfully, unlike last time, classes were in session and there weren’t any witnesses around as I tried not to completely lose it.
Tremors shook my frame, and I hunched over slightly, curling around my pain—and my griffin. One shuddering breath turned into another and another. My eyes burned, and I teetered on the edge of fully breaking down in the center of campus.
A rumbling purr thrummed against my chest as my griffin stirred in my arms. Once again, he was responding to my distress. Determined not to let anything else spill over onto him, I compartmentalized everything and promised myself later. Later, I could break down. Right now I needed to function. I soothed my griffin back to sleep with a hand that only shook a little and straightened up.
Drawing in a deep breath, I walked out of the dragon gate for the last time and marched across the quad to the griffin side of the academy.
And froze.
I stared up at the open gates, nothing stopping me but my own shattered dreams. As if stepping over that threshold would make everything real. As if it weren’t already as real as the snoring griffin cub in my arms.
Commandant Iverson’s words echoed in my mind. She’ll never be the asset she should’ve been . . .
Resolve burned through the last of my shock. I’d show Iverson. I’d show my classmates, I’d show them all. I could still make a difference—even if I shared a soul with a griffin instead of a dragon.
“Hey, little one,” I crooned as I stroked my bondmate’s dappled fur possessively. His tiny wings fluttered and his purple eyes opened. There was so much love, so much trust in those eyes, that a genuine smile pulled at my lips. “Let’s show them what a dragon rider can do in the Griffin Corps.”
Lifting my chin, I strode through the gate with a griffin in my arms.
My newfound determination died a swift death at the hands of my new commander. My ego was the next thing to take a hit, because a dragon rider in the Griffin Corps was apparently the next best thing to useless. I tried not to let my panic show as Commandant Pulaski gave me an incredibly detailed, incredibly fast overview of my new training schedule, her expectations for me, and all the ways I was behind the curve when it came to my training in general, and griffin care in particular.
And I had to endure all of it without the comfort of my griffin. The griffin I really needed to name soon, so I could stop thinking about him as “my griffin.”
Commandant Pulaski had taken one look at the fidgeting cub, recognized the signs of impending hunger—which explained the curious red haze coating his baby thoughts—and kicked me right back out of her office with orders to get him fed and leave him to nap in the crèche with the other newborns. The rest of his clutch had hatched just before he burst out of his egg and into my life, and while it was important for bondmates to spend time together, it was also important for him to socialize with his clutchmates.
Unlike most dragons, griffins were social creatures. Something I’d belatedly remembered from the introductory classes all cadets went through their first year at the academy. Still, it had been so hard to let him go, even knowing it was only temporary. I’d delayed for long minutes, just watching him sleep, but orders were orders, so I’d forced myself away.
“. . . any questions, Cadet Tavros?”
I blinked and wrestled my focus back where it belonged. Again. “No, ma’am.”
Iron—that was all I could think of when I’d first laid eyes on the older woman. Iron-gray hair, iron-straight spine, and an unyielding iron spirit lurking behind a pair of brilliant green eyes. She looked like she would break long before she ever bent.
And then she snorted a laugh and grinned, effectively destroying the illusion. “You look like I just slapped you across the face with the manual, Cadet.”
My mouth opened and closed, but I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. The dragon rider instructors were a strict, disciplined bunch—at least around their cadets. It took every bit of control I possessed not to let my jaw hit the floor when the Griffin Commandant of the Tennessan Bonded Training Academy leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and propped her boots up on the desk.
A shower of dirt rained on the manual in question. It looked like it wasn’t the first time that had happened.
“Um, yes, ma’am? I mean, no, ma’am, I don’t have any questions.” I shook off my shock and stiffened to attention. “I know I’m behind where I need to be, but I’ll work hard to catch up to the rest of my flight.”
Her grin softened into a genuine smile and she waved a casual hand. “At ease, Cadet. And it’s clutch.” When I frowned in confusion, she took pity on me and explained. “Dragons are organized by flight, griffins by clutch.”
I wanted to find a convenient hole in the ground to throw myself into. Here I was promising to catch up, and I couldn’t even remember the right terms.
“Right, I knew that.”
“Give yourself some grace,” she said kindly. “Today did not go like anyone expected, least of all you.” She eyed me for a long moment before she nodded to herself, dropped her boots to the floor, and leaned forward. “Cadet Tavros, I’m going to add one more item to my list of expectations for you—you are not allowed to drive yourself into the ground.”
My brow furrowed. “Ma’am?”
“I’ll be blunt with you, Cadet. There is no way for you to graduate on time.”
Dismay sank through my gut, and I bit back an automatic protest. The amusement had faded from her expression, and I was looking at the commandant once more, all unbending iron.
“You’ll need to catch up on a year’s worth of griffin-oriented classes, as well as train with your clutch. And while you’re catching up on last year’s classes, you’ll be missing this year’s.” She shook her head, already anticipating my response. “Please refer to my expectation for you. No driving yourself—or your griffin—into the ground.”
That stopped me cold. I was willing to work as hard as it took, but I had to remember that I was now responsible for and permanently attached to another soul, one who was still very much a baby. My fingers twitched as longing to stroke his fur momentarily distracted me.
“We’ll work out a schedule for you that is healthy and sane. Remember, nothing is more important right now than solidifying your bond with your griffin and learning how to be more than you were when you woke up today.”
I blinked. Oh gods, is it still the same day?
Sympathy softened her stern expression, and I fought to keep my face impassive. I didn’t want sympathy, I wanted . . . I didn’t know what I wanted.
My fingers twitched again.
No, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted my griffin, because I didn’t feel whole, or safe, or balanced without him. My weight shifted toward the door as impatience to return to his side momentarily overrode my discipline.
Pulaski’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she slid a single sheet of paper across her desk. “Here’s your initial schedule, we’ll adjust as needed. We won’t hold you back, Tavros, but we won’t break you, either.”
My spine stiffened. I’d like to see you try.
The commandant paused and regarded me silently.
“There she is,” she finally said in a voice soft as steel. “There’s the hotshot dragon rider cadet I heard so much about.”
I held her stare without flinching. No matter how friendly she acted, she wasn’t my friend. She didn’t get to see me break either. After a long moment, the corner of her mouth kicked up in what looked like approval.
“Hold on to that fire, Cadet,” Pulaski said quietly. “You’re going to need it.”
Well, if that wasn’t ominous. In the next instant, she was all business again. I was getting emotional whiplash.
“Unfortunately, we can’t allow you to stay in the dragon rider dorms. You’ve been reassigned to Echo Barracks with the rest of your clutch.”
My stomach tightened. I’d thought I’d at least be able to keep one part of my life unchanged. It wasn’t even the cushy double room I’d miss. It was Bethany. I shoved my sorrow behind the same wall where I’d compartmentalized everything else and maintained my bearing.
“We had the bulk of your belongings already moved over, you just need to pack your personal effects.”
I straightened my shoulders. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see to it as soon as I get my griffin—”
Pulaski arched a brow. “And how exactly are you planning to carry your belongings and a griffin cub?” She shook her head. “Leave him in the crèche and handle your business, Cadet. He’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”
Panic tightened my throat, constricting my airway even as my lungs heaved for breath. No, I needed to get him now. It had been too long and I needed him. My vision tunneled, and gray sparks danced along the edges.
“Tavros? Tavros!” Pulaski was suddenly just there, weathered hands gripping my upper arms. “Deep breath in, girl.” She mimed taking a deep breath, and my body listened, automatically following the nonverbal cue. “Good, now out. Come on, Cadet. Keep taking those deep breaths for me.”
“Sorry,” I gasped out, mortified and unsure where that surge of sheer panic had come from—or how to make it stop. I was holding on by my fingertips, and if it weren’t for Pulaski’s iron grip, I would’ve already taken off running for the crèche. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“For fuck’s sake, what is Iverson teaching you people?” When I flinched at her deep scowl, she immediately shook her head. “No, it’s okay, this is part of it. The bond turns us all into a codependent mess, especially in the beginning. Your body still thinks that you have to physically touch him to feel him, but you don’t. You can feel him. Your griffin is still there.”
I dragged in air, searching but not finding, my belly twisting to the point of nausea. “I can’t, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” she said sharply enough to shock me out of my panic. “Close your eyes.”
My eyes slammed shut, desperation and years of training making me latch onto her command.
“Reach for that bundle of emotion that isn’t yours,” she said firmly, her tone losing its sharpness without sacrificing an ounce of authority. It gave me something to hold onto as panic threatened to drown me. “He’s right there, you just have to feel for him.”
My shoulders relaxed inch by inch. She was right, I could feel him, all warm and content, curled up in the back of my mind and in my heart like a warm knot of energy, a part of me but not. My griffin. Mine.
“Find him yet?”
“I found him,” I breathed out, relief making my voice shake. Mentally, I curled around that warm ball of griffin and rubbed at my chest, where it felt like the bond had sunk its hooks deep, tugging and binding us together.
“Good,” she said briskly as her grip tightened to just shy of painful. “Remember this—he’ll always be with you. He’ll never leave you. There is nowhere in this world you can go that will be far enough to break that bond. And whether he’s sleeping in the crèche or he goes beyond your reach on a scouting mission, there is nowhere he can go that you can’t go too.” She gave me a little shake, her fingers wrapped around my upper arms like bands of steel. “That is what it means to be bonded. You will never be alone again.”
Rather than scary, it was so damn comforting. I was able to take a deeper breath, then another, always keeping a mental hand on my griffin. My panic faltered and faded, leaving staggering relief and overwhelming embarrassment behind.
Heat washed over my face, but I forced my eyes open and looked my commander in the eye. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. We were taught about this, but I didn’t think . . .”
Pulaski released my arms with a wry grin. “You didn’t think it would feel like you’d die if you couldn’t touch your bondmate? Like you couldn’t breathe, or think, or that your heart might refuse to beat without him?” She snorted. “Trust me, every last one of your clutchmates just went through the same panic attack under the supervision of an instructor.”
I paused, mentally repeated her words, and could only come to one conclusion. “You separated us on purpose.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She met my outrage with a calm expression. Once again, that iron will shone through in the implacable steadiness of her gaze. “Because that first separation is a bitch, but it’s also unavoidable.”
Her raised brows said she was waiting for me to contribute something other than outrage to the discussion. It occurred to me that I would never have gotten away with this behavior if this were Iverson’s office, but she didn’t look angry. Just expectant.
So I let out a slow breath and turned the situation over in my mind, trying to look at it from all angles. One word jumped out at me. “Supervision. You separate us on purpose so you can control it . . . so you can help us.”
She nodded sharply. “Just like our instructors did for us when we were newly bonded. I wanted to handle yours because a griffin bond feels different than a dragon bond. Dragons are heavy, they spread out, impossible to miss. But griffins? They’re sneakier.”
Absently, I rubbed my chest again. She was right. Part of the reason I’d panicked when I’d reached for him was because I couldn’t find him. Oh, I could feel the bond itself, but not him. Now that I knew how to look, I’d never lose him again.
“Well?” Pulaski arched a brow and tilted her head toward her door. “What are you standing around for? The sooner you square away your gear, the sooner you can get back to your griffin.”
I couldn’t get out of her office fast enough.
As I rushed out of the Griffin Corps admin building, a trio of gray dragons flashed by overhead, leathery hides shining silver in the light of the setting sun and their formation so tight their wings practically overlapped. My feet stopped of their own accord, rooting me in place, and I couldn’t stop my gaze from tracking their graceful flight until they were out of visual range. My stomach tightened at the sight of two riders on each dragon’s back.
Formation flying 101, sunset orientation.
I was supposed to be on that flight.
And then I couldn’t stop the thought that followed as naturally as breathing. I wonder who took my spot?