A great noise had gone up, both inside the cavern and from without as dragons all over High Reaches keened the sudden loss of one of their own. From the reactions of some of the infants around the feeding and oiling areas, K’rou guessed it was one of their clutchmates. He’d watched his own bronze for some sort of response, but Cadereth gave none, except for a slight tinge of grey in his otherwise red eyes.

Later, as they rested before the feast, K’rou sat upright on his cot and Cadereth reclined beside him with his head on the man’s thighs. His mind went back to that moment, and to the murmurs he’d heard since: the dragonet who’d passed between had been looking for the boy that was slain. The one that Cadereth had…

She was only a green.

It was said with such stark, cold disinterest that K’rou visibly startled, looking at the bronze and not quite believing that the words had truly come from his newborn mind. Newborn dragons were innocent, especially before Impression, or so he’d been led to believe. But what defense was there for Cadereth’s words now?

The bronze, reading his bonded’s thoughts as easily as K’rou would read a letter, merely gazed at the man. What difference is there between you and I, I wonder? he all but purred. A cooler shade of violet bled into his eyes and he sent a little ripple of affection through their link. In the warm thought was an invitation to reciprocate, for most of the other weyrlings were either asleep or absorbed in their fresh bond. It was like being released from chains. K’rou instantly took the dragon’s face in his hands and pressed his cheek to Cadereth’s muzzle, his shoulders going limp. All of the tension he’d been holding in since their Impression dissipated. The moment couldn’t have lasted long enough for K’rou. Cadereth was everywhere in his mind, wrapped around him like a cloak of love and devotion. It was incredible, like nothing he’d ever experienced.

Suddenly, there was a jerk and a flash of pain. Even before he opened his eyes, K’rou knew what had happened. He remained face to face with Cadereth, close enough to feel the dragon’s breath on his own face as he stared into the bright red eyes. His hand was in the bronze’s mouth, a rivulet of blood dripping down from where the teeth had pierced his skin.

You can’t lie to us, my darling, the bronze hissed. You most certainly would kill another. In fact, though you aren’t sure, you might have already done so. We are no different.

The look of surprise on Cadereth’s face was almost comical in the split second before he caught himself; he clearly had not expected K’rou’s other hand to close about his jaw, wrenching it open to release the trapped hand. The man did not release his grip afterward, nor did he release the bronze from his now very intense eye contact. It was ingrained in him, something his father had always done when a younger Karou or one of his brothers got too mouthy. And now he understood why.

Since you’re already in my head, I shouldn’t even have to tell you this: That was self-defense. I would never kill someone in cold blood.

Cadereth laughed. Self-defense, was it? What of that shivering ovine there in the backgr—

K’rou gave the dragon’s mouth another jerk. That’s enough, Cadereth. You chose me. I’ve already passed your test.

The bronze was silent for a few moments, baleful shades of red swirling in his eyes. Then he looked away, breathing out in a definite huff and letting his jaw go slack.