Chapter 51
Harlow
One month later…
I take a deep breath. This is it. It’s the big day and I can’t wait.
I’m also nervous.
So nervous.
Drake’s dragon crouches low, waiting. He watches me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. His presence in my mind is warm and steady. It’s become familiar over the past weeks.
It’s time.
I run.
The saddle bounces against my side with each stride. I don’t slow down. Momentum is everything.
At the last second, I transfer the saddle to one hand. All I can say is, thank god for all those hours spent in training, and for every grueling climb up Mermaid’s Tail. Otherwise, I don’t think I would have been up for this.
I reach for the ridge of scales along his foreleg with my other hand. My fingers find purchase, and I haul myself up, slapping the saddle onto Drake’s back. I’m clinging to one of his horns now, as I jump back, landing on my feet next to him.
He stands. The ground drops away as his huge form rises. I have to crane my neck to see where the saddle sits between his shoulder blades. I move quickly, reaching under his belly for the cinch strap. My hands shake as I thread it through the buckle and pull it tight.
“Good?” I ask, both out loud and through our bond.
The answer comes as a feeling rather than words. Satisfaction. Readiness.
I can do this.
We can do this.
He drops back onto his haunches, lowering himself so I can mount. I grab onto his scales and then the horn of the saddle, swinging myself up, and I’m sitting astride a dragon…my dragon. I find the stirrups, like we practiced on the dummy dragon.
My heart is going nuts, but I ignore it. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. I run through every calming technique we’ve practiced over and over; every piece of advice Scar ever barked at us about controlling our emotions.
This is it. My first flight.
Holy crap.
Drake, I think at him, keeping my mental voice as calm as I can manage. Slowly, okay? Take off carefully.
I feel his amusement ripple through our connection, but he obeys. His haunches bunch beneath me and then—
I squeal as he takes off because I lurch in the saddle.
I’ve never even ridden a horse before, let alone a dragon.
My stomach drops as his powerful legs propel us upward.
The ground falls away, and I clutch the saddle horn with both hands.
Wind rushes past my face, even though we aren’t going fast at all.
I would say that we’re airborne, but we’re not even ten feet off the ground. It’s still flying. I’m flying.
Breathe, I remind myself. You can do this. Just breathe.
“Stay low!” The words rip from my throat. “Please stay low!”
The long grass of the training field rushes past below us, so close I could almost reach down and trail my fingers through the seed heads.
We sweep across the field in one direction, in a long, graceful arc that takes us from one end to the other. There’s nothing but the wind, the grass, the rhythmic beat of Drake’s wings, and the steady presence of his mind against mine.
I could grow to love this, I think to myself as a smile starts to form on my face.
He banks again, coming around for another pass in the opposite direction.
Laughter bubbles up from somewhere deep in my chest. I can’t hold it back. It bursts out of me in great whooping gasps that get stolen by the wind. My hands relax on the saddle horn. My body finds the rhythm of Drake’s flight, moving with him.
“This is incredible!” I shout.
Another sweep. The other shifters and their riders are gathered at the edge of the field, their eyes trained on us. The sky stretches endlessly above us, so blue it hurts to look at.
Scar starts waving his arms.
“It’s time to go back,” I say.
Drake circles toward where we started. His wings adjust, cupping the air, and we descend. The landing is gentle, and then his claws are on solid ground again.
I swing my leg over and dismount, my boots hitting the earth. I’m beaming from ear to ear. My legs feel shaky, like I’ve just run a marathon. The adrenaline is still singing through my veins.
I loved every moment.
Drake lowers his head, bringing his reptilian eyes level with mine. I reach up and scratch behind his ear, right where the scales give way to the softer hide beneath.
A sound rumbles through him. It’s a deep, resonant purr that I feel through the ground beneath my feet. His eyes half-close in contentment, and he leans into my touch, nearly knocking me over with the weight of his head.
“You like that, huh?” I laugh, scratching harder. “My big scary dragon reduced to a purring kitty cat.”
The purr intensifies. I can feel his pleasure through our bond, warm and satisfied and happy.
After a moment, I step back, letting my hand fall to my side. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For keeping me safe up there. You can shift now.”
Drake straightens, and then the air around him shimmers. His form blurs and reshapes, scales giving way to skin, massive bulk condensing into the tall, muscular frame I know so well.
One moment, there’s a dragon, and in the next, Drake stands before me in all his naked glory.
His arms reach for me, and I leap into his embrace. My legs wrap around his waist automatically as he swings me in a circle, both of us laughing like idiots.
His mouth finds mine, and I kiss him back hungrily. Heat floods through me, chasing away the lingering adrenaline, replacing it with something else. My fingers tangle in his hair. His hands grip my hips, holding me against him.
“That. Is. Not. Appropriate. Behavior.” Scar’s voice cuts through our haze. “It’s your last warning.”
Drake and I break apart, both breathing hard. I unwrap my legs and slide down, my feet finding the ground, though Drake keeps one arm around my waist.
When I turn to look at Scar, expecting to see disapproval, I find him smiling instead.
“Sorry,” I manage, though I’m not sorry at all.
“Yeah, sorry,” Drake echoes. He doesn’t sound sorry either.
He sets me down properly and turns to grab his clothes from where he left them folded nearby.
Before he’s finished pulling on his tank, my friends surround me. Dani crashes into me first, wrapping me in a fierce hug that nearly knocks me over.
“You did it! You actually flew!” Her eyes are shining.
Becca is right behind her, grinning widely. “That was amazing, Harlow. The way you handled that saddle—”
“And you didn’t even hesitate.” Georgia adds. “You are so brave. I have to say, it did look like fun.”
“You’re going to love it, guys,” I tell them.
“I can’t wait.” Becca bounces up and down.
The other shifters crowd in too, offering congratulations and good-natured ribbing. Hammer claps Drake on the shoulder. There’s laughter and warmth and acceptance, and for a moment, everything is perfect.
Then I think of Jordyn.
The pang hits me square in the chest. The betrayal floods back, as sharp and fresh as the day I learned the truth.
I think of Grim.
Last time I saw him, the poor guy was broken. A complete shell of himself because he lost his rider.
To make matters worse, she didn’t die. She was banished. The bond between them was severed, cut clean through, and shifters struggle to survive that kind of loss. He now has scars that run deeper than skin. They’re the ones you can’t see. The worst kind.
Their connection was strong. Stronger than most. I have a sneaking suspicion that Grim might have been falling for Jordyn.
“You okay?”
Drake’s voice pulls me back. I realize that I was staring at nothing.
His hand finds mine, fingers threading through mine in a gesture that’s become second nature.
I look up at him and manage a smile. “I am now.”
“You guys really need to stop with the touchy-feely shit,” Scar calls out.
“Sorry.” We drop hands, exchanging a look that promises we’ll make up for it later. Much later. When we’re alone.
“Becca and Mist,” Scar continues, his commanding voice cutting through the chatter. “You guys are up next.”
“Um…Scar?” Drake says, turning to face our trainer.
Scar turns, one eyebrow raised. “Yes, yes…I know. You have a Council meeting. It’s fine. You’re excused.”
Drake got lucky. With two Council members short, they couldn’t afford to dismiss him for his involvement with me. He received a warning, and a six-month extension on his probational period. At least he’s still on the Council, doing great work.
“I’ll see you at home later.” The words feel strange since we only just moved in together a few days ago.
“You bet.” He kisses me but doesn’t linger. Scar has already chewed us out several times today.
“I’ll cook tonight. I’ll make your favorite,” I tell him.
A slow smile spreads across his face, doing all sorts of things to me.
“You’re my favorite, Harlow Santos. Can I eat you for dinner?”
Warmth rushes through me, going straight to places it absolutely shouldn’t. Not on the training field with people around us.
“Sounds good.” The words come out breathy.
Drake’s smile turns wicked. He knows exactly what he does to me.
“I can’t fucking wait,” he says, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
Dancing with Fire is on pre-order now…