Bridges Burned (Entangled Teen) (Going Down in Flames) (3 page)

“Falling in love with anyone is a risk,” Ivy said.

Bryn finished off the third piece of pie and ignored the nervous feeling in her stomach.

…

Back in her room, Bryn picked up one of the legends books she had checked out of the library based on a time when dragons were allowed to fall in love by instinct, before the Directorate mandated arranged marriages to keep dragons in line. She curled up on the couch and lost herself in the battles of love and war. Funny how the war part seemed easier to negotiate.

The Directorate had wanted to ban these books from the library, but Miss Enid the librarian had fought them fang and claw. The Directorate probably didn’t want anyone reading these stories because they might inspire dragons to think for themselves. In her mind, she imagined small communities of dragons living under the radar. There had to be other hybrids out there. Her parents couldn’t have been the only ones to ever defy the law.

A knock on the door had her up and running. No. She stopped herself. She would not run to him. “Who is it?”

“It’s Zavien.”

By the clock on her desk it had been five hours since he’d ditched her. She pulled the door open a few inches. “What’s up?”

Hands shoved in the front pocket of his jeans, he had the good sense to look sheepish. “Can I come in?”

She stepped back, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for him to explain.

He entered and leaned against the closed door. “Sorry about earlier. Nola needed me.”

Not what she wanted to hear. “Really? What did she need you for?”

“I knew you’d be like this.” He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin.

Flames roared in her chest. She tamped them down. “Don’t patronize me. She’s your friend. I get that. What if Valmont dropped by and I left with him. How would you feel?” Valmont was her own personal knight, who had become magically bonded to her when he’d protected her from a perceived threat. It was an added bonus that he was smoking hot and had made Zavien jealous enough to kiss her and admit his feelings.

Zavien bristled at the knight’s name. “You have a point, but what did you expect me to do? She was crying.”

“What was the emergency? Why were
you
the only person she could confide in?”

“Can we sit?” Zavien asked.

Shadows stood out under his eyes. In fact, now that she really paid attention, he looked like crap.

She waved him toward the couch. He sat close enough that his thigh brushed against hers, creating a frisson of warmth. Hormones would not distract her right now. At the moment, she’d rather kick him than kiss him.

“Nola is having a hard time dealing with Alec’s death. She always felt like she should’ve been a better influence on him.”

“Why would she think that?”

“He was her brother.”

Chapter Three

Bryn sucked in a breath. “Does she know?”

Zavien gave a bitter laugh. “Does Nola know I killed her brother? No.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. You must feel awful.”

“He wouldn’t stop.” His shoulders slumped and his voice sounded hollow. “If Alec would’ve stopped attacking, I wouldn’t have been forced to kill him.”

Guilt rained down on her. He’d killed Alec to protect her. How could she have forgotten that? Needing to look him in the eyes, she sat on the coffee table and placed her hands on either side of his face. “It wasn’t your fault. Alec was crazy with grief over his marriage petition being denied.”

The pain in Zavien’s eyes made her heart ache. It was stupid not to worry about the effect this might have on him. The Directorate’s only concern had been to cover everything up. No one had thought to offer him counseling.

“I’m so sorry.” Bryn pressed her lips against his forehead. “What can I do?”

“Promise me you’ll never tell anyone what happened that night. I don’t want anyone to know. Nola can never find out.”

The other woman’s name sliced into her heart like a dagger. Ignoring the pain, she stroked his cheek. “I promise.”

Zavien’s body relaxed. He leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to think about anything right now. Talk to me. Tell me what you did tonight.”

He’d been strong for her when she’d needed him. She could be strong for him now. “Let’s lie down.” They settled onto the couch. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she laid her head on his chest.

“Ivy and I flew for a while. Jaxon showed up to mock me, so I beat him in a race. Then we went to the dining hall for dessert, and I ate three pieces of apple pie to celebrate my victory.” So what if it was a skewed version of her evening; it wasn’t an outright lie.

She continued talking, weaving together unimportant details from past conversations with Ivy. When Zavien’s breathing became regular, she stopped talking and thought about their situation. In two years she’d finish her high school classes. The degree in Quintessential medicine could take four to six more years. Zavien was in the first year of his bachelor’s degree. He could work toward a master’s degree and extend his time at school.

Originally, he’d told her Nola didn’t want to marry until they had to. The thought of Zavien marrying Nola was like a splinter under her skin. It was always there, annoying her. If she came upon it unexpectedly, it jabbed deeper, causing true pain.

Zavien assumed Nola was dating someone, but if Nola had someone else in her life, why had she come running to him? If she didn’t have someone else, then where did that leave Bryn’s fledgling relationship with Zavien?

Frustration fanned the flames in her gut. And then a ray of hope… He’d agreed to take her to the fall dance. That was a victory not easily won. He’d told her over and over again that asking someone to the fall dance was akin to declaring intent to petition for a lineage check. Legally, his contract to Nola was already in place. Even though everyone knew he and Nola were just friends, he’d refused to take Bryn to the dance until she had threatened to go with Valmont. That had changed his uncooperative mind-set. Then he had agreed they could go to the dance with Clint and Ivy.

Feeling better, she inhaled Zavien’s summer rainstorm scent and watched the rise and fall of his chest. Zavien’s scent differed from Ivy’s and Clint’s. While all Black dragons smelled of rain, Ivy smelled of a lush rainforest, while Clint smelled like wet grass.

She’d never been close enough to other dragons to detect individual scents. Scratch that. Before she and Zavien had gotten together, Keegan had kissed her. Like all Red dragons, he had smelled of smoke and flames. His scent had reminded her of a cozy fireplace. The only other scent she might recognize would be Jaxon’s. Blues smelled of ice and snow, but Jaxon had an undercurrent of something crisp and clean. He smelled like a fresh-cut pine tree on a snowy day.

Funny, how Jaxon no longer sat at the top of her most-loathed list. Since she’d sent her life force through Jaxon’s veins to burn out the poison meant to kill him, they’d developed an odd camaraderie. It was a strangely intimate procedure to heal somebody with Quintessence. Now his insults were more of a joking nature.

Knock knock knock.

Who was that? She wiggled out from under Zavien’s arm and answered the door.

An auburn-haired security guard stood scowling in the hall. “Curfew is in ten minutes. Mr. Blackthorn needs to return to his room.”

His rigid posture and clipped tone implied she’d been up to no good. She opened the door wide enough for him to see Zavien. “He fell asleep on the couch. How’d you know he was here?”

The guard relaxed his stance. “What do you think all these cameras are for? We’re trying to keep you safe.” He winked. “As far as your grandfather’s concerned, that means your friend needs to sleep in his own bed.”

Her face heated. “Is my grandfather monitoring all my friends?”

“He thinks Zavien Blackthorn deserves special attention.” The guard chuckled.

Great. “Give me a minute to wake him. I’ll send him on his way.”

The guard pointed at the camera across the hall. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

Despite her irritation, she was grateful someone was looking out for her. “Thanks for checking on me.”

The guard strolled away, whistling.

This new development could put a crimp in her social life.

She brushed her fingertips along Zavien’s cheek. “Wake up. It’s almost curfew, and the security guard says you have to leave.”

He stretched and frowned. “What security guard?”

“One of the men my grandfather hired stopped by to say you needed to sleep in your own bed.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “I wonder if the guards are susceptible to bribes.”

She laughed. “We’ll investigate that later. Right now, you need to smile for the camera in the hallway, or my new friend will be back.”

…

The sound of a piano worked its way into Bryn’s dreams. No. It couldn’t be morning already. She pulled the pillow over her head.

The music became loud and discordant. Her blood pressure rose as the alarm clock fulfilled its function of causing stress in students who didn’t immediately wake up and turn the damn thing off.

Stumbling to the dresser, she whacked the top of the alarm. In the shower, she used extra tangerine-grapefruit shower gel, hoping the sharp scent would wake her. No such luck. Her orange bra and underwear set covered with fat yellow bumblebees made her smile. She pulled on gray thigh highs she wore in place of the outdated dress-code-mandated panty hose and moved to the armoire to choose an outfit.

Dressed in the first skirt and blouse she laid hands on, she grabbed her new book bag and headed for the dining hall.

Coffee. She needed lots and lots of coffee.

In the dining hall, she yawned her way through the buffet line. Students kept glancing her way and making comments to their friends.
What is that about?
She had managed to wear her underwear on the inside of her clothes, hadn’t she? She glanced down. Yep. No bumblebees were visible. Must be her fancy new book bag.

After filling her tray, she joined Clint and Ivy at their regular table. “Mondays suck.”

“They do,” Clint agreed.

“Cool new book bag.” Ivy ran her fingers along the leather. “It’s soft.”

“Lillith gave it to me.”

Clint snorted. “She’s trying to bribe you to accept her son.”

“There aren’t enough book bags in the world for me to accept that proposal.”

On the way to class, a blond female Bryn didn’t know fell in step beside her. “That’s a lovely bag. Where’d you buy it?”

“It was a gift. I’m not sure what store it came from.”

“I see.” The blond girl drifted back to her friends. Rhianna was among them.

When Bryn reached Elemental Science, the seating chart on the board had her seated next to Jaxon. What the hell? Had her grandmother blackmailed Mr. Stanton? A quick check showed the entire class was no longer seated by Clan, so Mr. Stanton maintained his spot as her favorite teacher.

Jaxon ignored her, so she smiled at Keegan, who sat to her right. He returned the smile and then yawned, which made her laugh.

Mr. Stanton entered the room from the adjoining classroom-turned-storage-room that he always seemed to lurk in and gave an approving nod. “I hoped you’d notice the new chart. Since it’s Monday, I had my doubts.”

Students chuckled.

“Pair up with two other students with different breath weapons. I’ve seated you in an alternating pattern, so it shouldn’t be difficult.”

To her right, Keegan huddled in a group with two other students. She looked front and back to find the same thing.

Great
. She faced Jaxon. “Do you have room for one more in your group?”

Octavius, the only male Orange dragon on campus, spoke from Jaxon’s other side. “You’re welcome to join us, Bryn.”

“Thanks.”

Jaxon sighed as if the situation caused him great pain. “Haven’t we spent enough time together?”

“You’re such a joy to be around I couldn’t stay away,” Bryn mocked.

“Something’s changed between you two.” Octavius’s deep voice carried through the room.

“We learned to tolerate each other at the Directorate meeting.” Bryn turned her desk to face them and tapped her pencil on the desktop while she waited for further instructions.

A moment later, Jaxon’s hand flashed out and smacked the pencil down. “That’s annoying.”

Unable to help herself, Bryn raised the pencil and tapped it one more time. Childish, but fun.

Mr. Stanton cleared his throat. “Our elemental breath weapons were obviously designed to be used as weapons. While we’ve become more civilized over the centuries, it’s a good idea to know how to protect yourself if the need arises. Just a reminder, since we are inside, don’t blast your classmates full force. Use an emissary, and by that I mean a small
controllable
amount, and aim it at one of your partners. Your partner in turn will deflect it back. Learn what it feels like to defend against ice, fire, wind, lightning, and sonic waves. You never know whom you might face in battle.”

That’s a cheery thought.

Octavius frowned. “My sonic waves are invisible. I don’t wish to hurt either of you.”

“You hit me before by accident,” Jaxon said. “I fell out of my chair, but no harm was done. Maybe you should use a smaller amount than you normally would.”

“I’ll try. Why don’t you and Bryn start?”

“Ladies first,” Jaxon said.

“This isn’t as much fun when I have your permission.” The first time he’d verbally attacked her, she’d retaliated by shooting a fireball at his head. Remembering his expression of surprised terror still gave her a warm fuzzy feeling. She allowed heat to build in her chest, took in a measured amount of air, and shot a much smaller fireball at Jaxon’s head.

He exhaled frozen flames and the fireball fizzled out in midair. The ice went up in a puff of steam. Water droplets drifted down and spotted their desks.

“Ready?” Jaxon asked Octavius.

The Orange dragon nodded. Jaxon held his hand palm out toward his classmate and concentrated. Frozen flames shot from his hand.

Show-off.

Octavius opened his mouth, and the ice disintegrated into snow.

“Your breath weapon is the coolest,” Bryn said.

“I believe that’s why the Directorate deems us such a threat.” Octavius’s tone was bitter.

“What has the Directorate done?” Bryn asked.

“Ask him.” Octavius pointed to Jaxon.

Jaxon squared his shoulders. “The decrease in your Clan’s numbers is not the Directorate’s fault.”

“Really?” The muscles in Octavius’s forearms flexed. “Then whose fault is it?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps you should address the Directorate and find out,” Jaxon said.

“If I addressed the Directorate I’d probably die of an aneurysm like Alec. His death was rather convenient, don’t you think?”

Bryn froze under Octavius’s questioning gaze.

“She tried to save him. Don’t blame her,” Jaxon said.

Guilt flooded her system. Alec had tried to kill her and Jaxon, but he’d been wronged first. Since she’d signed that stupid paper, she couldn’t explain any of this to Octavius. “We’re supposed to be working. Whose turn is it?”

“Why don’t you go against Octavius?” Jaxon said.

“Can you repel flame? I don’t want to hurt you.”

He snorted. “You don’t have to worry about me, hybrid. Maybe you should scoot back a bit so we have more time to react.”

She moved her chair a few feet from her desk, took a deep breath, and huffed a fireball toward his shoulder.

Octavius exhaled, and her ball of fire broke into shimmering individual flames, which winked out of existence.

“That is so—”
Wham.

Something slammed into her chest, knocking her backward, chair and all. She windmilled her arms, but momentum threw her to the floor.
Smack!
Pain shot down her spine as her head whacked the floor. “Damn it.” Cradling her head, she rolled to her side.

Jaxon draped his jacket over her legs. “Can you sit up?”

She gritted her teeth as he helped her to a seated position on the floor. “Tell me I didn’t flash the entire class.”

“About a third of them know you wear stockings. I’ll keep the information about the bumblebees to myself.” His smirk spoke volumes.

“Wonderful.”

Octavius appeared by her side. “I’m sorry. I thought the lesser amount was safe.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bryn rubbed the sore spot on the back of her head. “I thought my fire would disintegrate your sonic waves like Jaxon’s ice did.”

Mr. Stanton knelt next to her. “The mass of the ice stops the waves. Fire has no mass so the waves travel through.”

“You might have mentioned that before,” she snapped.

“Sorry. Do I need to call a medic?”

“No. Only my pride is wounded.”

“Let’s get you back in your seat,” Mr. Stanton said.

Holding Jaxon’s jacket in front of her, she stood and took her seat.