Veronyka looked at the commander. If her position was in question, then he must have figured out her secret after all. The knot in her chest loosened somewhat. Maybe it was for the best. Better to get it over with, to squash her dreams once and for all. She might never be a part of the Phoenix Riders, but at least she could do right by her bondmate and get her out of that cage.
“He deserves to be a new recruit,” Tristan said, and Veronyka stared at him. Here he was, standing by her, when their entire relationship was about to be torn to shreds. “I know we don’t have eggs,” Tristan added hastily, before his father could point out the obvious, “but Nyk more than displayed his capability as an animage tonight. To have talent like that working in the stables is a waste.”
“I quite agree,” the commander said. Tristan’s mouth snapped shut, and even Veronyka found herself shocked into stillness. “The boy should not be tending the horses and the hounds, not when his connection to the phoenixes is so strong.”
So the commander hadn’t figured her out. Veronyka’s head was spinning.
“Maybe we can start a secondary apprentice unit,” Tristan said eagerly, pulling out the nearest chair and taking a seat, heartened by his father’s attitude. “One where Rider hopefuls can get a jump on training. They could participate in weapons and combat exercises, our fitness regimen, and observe the rest of us when we ride our mounts. In the meantime, I could put together a third patrol to go hunting for more eggs. If we had permission to skip lessons for a week or two, I bet we could—”
“You’re missing the point here, Tristan,” the commander said, loosening the buttons at the collar of his embroidered tunic and relaxing into his chair. “We’ve just captured a third female. With any luck, we’ll have a clutch of eggs before the winter solstice. There’s no need to go gallivanting across Pyrmont.”
He was talking about Xephyra as if she were a broodmare, as if her only purpose was to be a container for phoenix eggs, a kiln for baking precious warriors, and not a phoenix in her own right. It made Veronyka’s blood boil.
“But the cages don’t work. How many years are we going to keep those females locked up before you accept that?”
“And when will you accept that I will not grant you a patrol just so you can traipse across the countryside and get yourself killed?” the commander said, slamming his hands on the table.
A tense silence fell.
Tristan’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his lips parted as if he meant to loose a defiant retort. After staring intensely at his father for several weighted breaths, he closed his mouth and dropped his gaze.
Veronyka studied the pair of them. She had never before considered the possibility that it was love that made Commander Cassian hold Tristan back. She was surprised she hadn’t recognized it before, for it resembled Val’s behavior in some ways. How easily a person could convince themselves they were doing the right thing, no matter the damage they did to the person they supposedly cared about, if it was out of love.
But while Veronyka wasn’t sure if Val could truly love anything or anyone, she believed that the commander did. He’d lost his wife under terrible circumstances. It wasn’t hard to understand why he wouldn’t want his son to risk his life for the same cause that had claimed her.
“What, then, Commander Cassian?” Tristan asked, looking up again. “We sit here and wait?”
Now that Tristan’s voice was steady and his anger in check, the commander removed his hands from the table and sat back in his chair. He seemed pleased to have regained control of the situation and forced a determinedly light smile. “For tonight? We celebrate. We won’t go hunting like a pack of wild dogs or train dozens of new recruits, stretching ourselves beyond our means. Instead we will use the resources we have available to us. Given the display I saw this evening, the best course of action is to move Nyk from the stables to the enclosure. I believe his gifts will make the greatest impact there, and with a third female, our luck will surely begin to change.”
Veronyka’s body went cold, like she’d been plunged into an icy lake.
“The enclosure . . . ,” Tristan repeated, his eyes flicking to Veronyka. “You want Nyk to serve in the breeding cages with the females? But—”
“Furthermore,” the commander continued, his voice rising and betraying his simmering anger, telling Veronyka that he hadn’t forgotten his earlier argument with his son, “as you seem so determined to assume a patrol, I think it’s time you showed me what kind of leadership you are capable of. As you know, the best leaders do so by example. You have put a premium on new eggs, and so you shall volunteer your phoenix for the next round of mating attempts. Your bondmate, Rex, has long since reached full maturity. He would make an ideal candidate for breeding, don’t you think? Perhaps together with your friend Nyk, you can encourage a union that results in new eggs and new Riders. You are dismissed.”
Like an anchor, love will hold fast in a storm, but it can also pull you under.
- CHAPTER 30 -
VERONYKA
VERONYKA BARELY HEARD ANYTHING as Tristan tried to argue. There was a roaring in her ears, a rush that drowned out all thought and feeling. Too much had happened that day, too many shocks and surprises and gut-wrenching realizations.
Xephyra was alive. Axura above, Veronyka’s bondmate was alive. This should be a night of joy—of pure, perfect euphoria.
But it wasn’t. As much as she reveled at being reunited with her bondmate, everything was weighed down by dread.
She’d made a terrible mistake.
She should have told Xephyra to leave, should have sent her away the moment she recognized her. But when the guards surrounded them, she’d thought only of calming Xephyra, certain that the danger was in her phoenix’s volatile reactions, not in her obedience.
Rather than telling Xephyra to flee, Veronyka, in a panic, had commanded her to stay. All this time she’d abhorred and refused that kind of power, and then she’d gone and used it in the worst possible way. It was their bond that had drawn Xephyra to the stronghold in the first place, and Veronyka’s command that ensured her capture.
She’d been told to report to the Eyrie the following morning. It was almost like a dream come true. Almost.
Veronyka gripped her head to stop herself from screaming—or crying. She was worse than Val, worse than the commander. She had betrayed her own bondmate—surely there was no more severe a crime than that.
And somehow her secret was still safe . . . but what did it matter? She couldn’t stay here—not with Xephyra in a cage—and as soon as she told them why Xephyra couldn’t remain inside the enclosure, it would all be over anyway.
Sour regret gripped her. She should have told them the truth, should have gotten it over with straightaway rather than allow Xephyra to remain locked up for one more minute.
But she hadn’t. She was a weak, pathetic coward. Even the thought of it was enough to make her heart stutter and her breaths grow thin. She was utterly overwrought, and she didn’t have the strength to deal with it right now.