Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(8)

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?”