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“Everyone saw you lose it,' I whisper, doing my best to mentally block the pain like I have countless times before. It's usually as easy as building a mental wall around the pulsing torment in my body, then telling myself the pain only exists in that box so I can't feel it, but it isn't working so well this time. 'I didn't lose it.' He kicks the door three times when we reach it. 'You shouted and carried me out of there like I mean something to you.' I focus on the scar on his jaw, the stubble on his tan skin, anything to keep from feeling the utter destruction in my shoulder. 'You do mean something to me.' He kicks again. And now everyone knows.”

“You'll break the first time they put you in the sparring ring, and that's before the dragons sense that you're...' He shakes his head and looks away, his jaw clenching. 'I'm what?' My hackles rise. 'Go ahead and say it. When they sense I'm less than the others. Is that what you mean?' 'Damn it.' He rakes his hand over his close-cropped light-brown curls. 'Stop putting words in my mouth. You know what I mean. Even if you survive the threshing, there's no guarantee a dragon will bond you. As it was, last year we had thirty-four unbonded cadets who have just been sitting around, waiting to restart the year with this class to get a chance at bonding again, and they're all perfectly healthy-' 'Don't be an asshole.' My stomach falls. Just because he might be right doesn't meant I want to hear it... or want to be called unhealthy. 'I'm trying to keep you alive!”

“Are you calling me weak?' 'No.' Mira squeezes my hand. 'Just... fragile.' 'That's not any better.' Dragons don't bond fragile women. They incinerate them. 'So she's small.' Mom scans me up and down, taking in the generous fit of the cram belted tunic and pants I selected this morning for my potential execution. I snort. 'Are we just listing my faults now?' 'I never said it was a fault.' Mom turns to my sister. 'Mira, Violet deals with more pain before lunch than you do in an entire week. If any of my children is capable of surviving the Rider's Quadrant, it's her.”

“You can't keep your seat?' 'No.' It's barely a whisper, and the heat of embarrassment scorches my skin.' 'How the hell can you not?' Her mouth hangs open. 'Because I'm not you"' I shout. She rears back like I've slapped her, our hands breaking apart. 'But you... you look so much stronger now.' 'My joints and muscles are stronger because Imogen makes me lift these horrible weights, but that doesn't... fix me.' Mira blanches. 'No. I didn't mean it like that, Vi. You're not anything that needs to be fixed. I just didn't know you couldn't hold your seat. Why didn't you tell me?' 'Because there's nothing you can do about it.' I force a wry smile. 'There's nothing anyone can do about the way I'm made.”