Sleeping Dragon Quit this city

Freyja nodded eagerly and Wildfire could see the enthusiasm and ambition in her eyes. A few days ago, she would have been nothing but proud and thrilled for the young Feisripa. She would have wanted to be a part of her journey, helping to raise her up on the pedestal she deserved. Wildfire wouldn't have minded if Freyja rose above her any more than she had resented it when Dio had done the very same, as the Bandrona had never hankered for power nor cared much for rank or dominance.

But as she prepared to crest a very important milestone—sexual maturity—and her hormones changed, she couldn't help but feel differently. Wildfire felt threatened. Wasn't it her right to stand beside or at least directly beneath the Heda, her mate? Wouldn't that help further secure their future and their eventual children's? In hindsight, these covetous feelings had begun a few days back, when Gyda had reclaimed an esteemed position among the Dragedakru.

Wildfire realized she had been standing there, fighting her internal battle in silence, for more than a minute. She blinked and shook her head, shooting Freyja an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I'm... distracted lately," she pardoned herself, feeling her cheeks flush. She was taken aback and more than a little ashamed at her inner monologue. She must stomp out these feelings somehow, even though they flared so brightly in the center of her chest. "What has Heda been teaching you?"