Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(52)

“Here’s good,” Clint said. “The burgers are great.”

A waitress took their order. Ivy talked about what she’d bought at the art store. Bryn opened the book she’d purchased and read the introduction.

“I could teach you to draw,” Zavien said.

Interesting proposition. “Would you yell at me, or would you be nice?”

“Knowing how you make me feel, I’d probably use a combination of both approaches.”

“No thanks.”

He reached over and touched her arm. “I’m sorry about the dress. I should’ve said you looked nice, but I don’t understand why you bought one.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Being around you is exhausting. You’re like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One minute you’re nice, and the next minute you’re obnoxious.”

He stroked her forearm with his fingertips. Warmth spread up her arm. Was the touch calculated or innocent? Did he know how she felt? Was he manipulating her again?

“I feel responsible for you. I’m trying to keep you out of trouble.”

It was time to take a stand. “You’re not my father or my brother.”

He snatched his hand away. “This isn’t a discussion we can have in public.”

“Fine.”

Their food arrived. Bryn made short work of her hamburgers. Ivy and Clint kept up a constant chatter to diffuse the tension that crackled in the air.

After finishing his meal, Zavien stood. “I’ve some business to attend to. I’ll see you back at school.”

Irritation surged through Bryn’s system as she watched him walk away.

Clint cleared his throat. “Now that he’s gone, tell me about your new friend.”

Bryn dragged a French fry through ketchup and popped it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before answering.

“He seemed to think I was going to be a great artist because he offered to be my benefactor. It didn’t make sense.”

Clint cursed.

Ivy slammed her drink down on the table.

“What?” Bryn asked.

Clint uttered more profanities and then elbowed Ivy. “Tell her. She needs to know.”

Ivy toyed with her straw. “He wasn’t offering to fund your art career after you graduated. He was offering to keep you as his mistress.”





Chapter Sixteen

Bryn shot to her feet, knocking her chair over. That son of a bitch. White-hot rage exploded through her body. Flames roared in her gut. Sparks shot from her nostrils with every exhalation.

“Calm down.” Ivy caught her left arm and held fast. Clint took hold of the right.

It took great effort to speak without shooting flames. “Let go.”

Ivy shook her head. “No way. If we let go, you’ll find that man and attempt to beat him to death with your book.”

“So?” It was a good plan. She liked it.

“I don’t want to spend my weekends visiting you in jail,” Clint said.

“You have every right to be upset,” Ivy said.

“Upset?” Bryn laughed. “I’m way past—” A five-inch fireball popped out of her mouth on the last word, surprising her and startling her friends. Realizing she was close to losing control, she shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and visualized snow to tamp down the blaze.

“Sorry about that. Please let go. I need to fly…to escape for a while.”

“Stay close to school.” Ivy pried the book from Bryn’s fingers. “We’ll take your things back and put them in your room.”

Bryn stalked outside, shifted, and took to the air, gliding on the currents.

Stupid arranged marriages. Stupid Directorate. Stupid, damn dragons.

Furious didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Did she seem that desperate? Why would Merrick assume she was open to that type of relationship?

If she spotted him, she’d blast him to a cinder. And then she’d be the one going to jail because being a presumptuous, adulterous asshat was legal in polite dragon society, while flash-frying said asshats was not. She roared in frustration. What would happen if she kept flying? If she flew to Vegas or Los Angeles or someplace where weird was accepted, could she make a life for herself away from all this mess?

She could, but things wouldn’t go well for her parents. Ferrin was a spiteful bastard, and he’d probably go after her mom and dad for the sheer enjoyment of it. And even though she was mad at her parents, she didn’t want to abandon them. This was all so frustrating.

Since there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about her situation, she focused on the sensation of the sun warming her wings. She imagined the air currents carrying away her anger. As she flew in slow, lazy circles, the fury inside her dropped to a manageable level.

A flash of water below caught her attention. A quick check of her surroundings showed Dragon’s Bluff to the left and the Institute to the right, which meant she was still on school property. Tucking her wings, she aimed for a large, flat boulder in the middle of the lake.

She hit the moss-covered surface too hard. Her claws scrabbled for purchase. Extending her wings for balance, she barely kept from going snout-first into the water.

“That was not impressive,” a husky dragon voice announced.

Bryn whipped around. Two Orange dragons stood on the edge of the lake. “Never tried that before. It was harder than I thought.”