Chapter 37
Harlow
I hoist up the huge leather saddle, holding it above my head. The weight of it makes my shoulders scream in protest, but I push past the burn.
“Go!” Scar shouts.
I run to the flag in the field up ahead, working hard at moving quickly and carefully. It’s hard to do both, but I have to. It’s no good if I fall on my face.
Careful.
Hurry!
Don’t fall. Don’t fall.
Now my arms are not the only things that are burning; my thighs join the party.
I reach the yellow flag and start back. Despite thinking about every footfall, I stumble, catching myself, and picking up speed even though my arms are aching. My breath comes in ragged gasps.
Everyone cheers me on from the sidelines, their voices blending together in encouragement.
I jump over the line, and Scar stops the stopwatch in his hand as I get back.
“Not quick enough,” he announces, his tone matter-of-fact.
I want to kick him; instead, I groan, dropping the saddle with a heavy thud. That can’t be. Sweat drips down my back, between my breasts, and down my face. It itches. My body aches from head to toe, every muscle protesting.
“How much was I out by?” I manage to ask between gasps for air.
“Two seconds.”
Story of my life!
I huff out a breath, bending forward with my hands on my knees. Two measly seconds. If I hadn’t stumbled, I might have made it.
“Take a breather. Have something to drink and then try again. You too, Georgia,” Scar says.
Georgia nods beside me, looking just as exhausted as I feel.
“This is stupid,” I announce, straightening up. “What does running with a saddle have to do with tacking up a dragon?” I ask, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “I’m pretty sure I could put a saddle on my dragon just fine.” I’m not sure of this at all. I’m irritated. “What does this even prove?”
“It shows that you have sufficient strength and stamina to tack up your dragon in the worst possible situation,” Scar tells me, his expression unyielding.
“What if we’re ambushed and you need to get that saddle on in a pinch?
” Scar looks at each and every one of us, his gaze sweeping across the group.
“Just like with Sky’s Edge, there will be a few tests along the way.
You need to show me that you are capable of moving to the next level of training.
This will be a sticking point. None of us will progress until all of you can make it to that flag and back in under fifteen seconds. ”
I hold back a groan. Here we go again. I’m going to hold them all back. At least this time I won’t die… I hope I won’t die. You never know in this place.
I look over at my friends. Becca made it easily, as did Jordyn. They sailed through on their first try. Jordyn even had time to spare, grinning like she’d just won the lottery.
Dani made it after her fourth try, pumping her fist in the air when Scar announced that she had made it.
It’s just Georgia and me left. I look over at her, and she shrugs and rolls her eyes like she doesn’t give too much of a shit.
I don’t think she wants to learn how to tack up an actual dragon.
She doesn’t want to get anywhere near a dragon.
I think she’ll happily fail at this endlessly.
I noted that she didn’t try at all on her last attempt.
At least the three times before that she tried to fake it.
Scar doesn’t look too pleased when he sees Georgia’s attitude.
“You need to understand that training sessions will get more and more grueling until everyone makes it,” our trainer says.
“All of you will be expected to attend these sessions. I’m talking running, intense weight training, followed by more running until you puke up your guts.
If you can’t make it there and back with a saddle in the allotted time, I’m going to assume that you’re not fit or strong enough.
I’m going to get really tough on all of you, so I suggest you give it your all.
” He speaks mainly to Georgia, who gets this stormy look on her face.
Hammer says something to her in a low voice, and she nods, looking down at her feet.
“You have five minutes to get your shit together,” Scar tells Georgia and me. “You will go first,” he says to Georgia.
“Fine,” she pushes out, sounding annoyed.
“Then you,” he tells me. “If either of you doesn’t make it, we’ll come back tomorrow. I suggest we move on to the next step by tomorrow at the latest.” Scar’s warning is clear. There is an “or else” attached. I, for one, don’t want to run until I puke.
Georgia sighs heavily. I think she feels the same, only I was actually trying on every attempt, and she wasn’t.
I need to get out of my head.
I walk over to the cooler and take out a bottle of water, my hands still trembling a little from the exertion.
I glance at the others. Scar is talking to Drake, who looks at me.
He looks annoyed. He nods once at Scar, his jaw tight.
The others are all talking together, their voices animated.
Becca laughs at something Jordyn says. Dani says something, and they all laugh.
I’m feeling deflated, so I decide to walk to try to clear my head.
I walk for about a minute, uncap my water, and then yelp, spilling some of it when Drake says, “You can do this,” from behind me. I clutch my chest. It’s the most he’s said to me since getting into the SUV with him earlier.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Half my water is on the ground. I drink some of what is left, trying to steady my racing heart.
“I was hardly sneaking. I walked over. I just wanted to tell you that you can do this.”
“Not if I keep tripping over my own damned feet,” I say, frustration bleeding into my voice. “I’m trying so hard not to be clumsy.”
“That’s your problem right there,” he tells me, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You concentrate on what you don’t want instead of what you do want.”
“I have to, or I’ll fall on my face.”
“Don’t think like that, Harlow.” He shakes his head.
“I have to,” I repeat because he doesn’t seem to be hearing me.
“You don’t. Think about where you want to get to. Think about doing it as fast as you can. Think about a successful outcome and you’ll be fine. Think about what you want to achieve and nothing else. Simple.”
Easy for him to say.
Simple, my ass.
“I can tell that you don’t believe me. Do me a favor and give it a try.” He lifts his brows. “You don’t have anything to lose.”
“I could lose my face when I fall on it.”
His mouth quirks up for a moment like he wants to smile. Then it’s gone. “Please, Harlow.”
I nod. “Sure. I will give it a try.” I pause, studying his face. “Did Scar tell you to come over and give me a pep talk?”
I can tell from the sheepish look on Drake’s face that he did. I don’t think he would be here otherwise. I’d still be getting more of the silent treatment he’s been dishing out since I left his place the night before last.
“Why are you being so weird with me?” I blurt out. “I mean, I know why,” I whisper, “but I don’t like it.”
“I’m not being weird.” He shrugs, but it’s stiff.
“You are. We agreed to be cordial. You agreed to be cordial. Just a heads-up: ignoring me is not being cordial.”
He sighs. “I told you I don’t like small talk. I’m not being mean or difficult.”
“There’s not liking small talk and then there’s no talk at all. We had sex.” I lower my voice, glancing around to make sure no one is within earshot. “We’ve moved on. You don’t have to be weird. We can still make this work.”
His jaw tightens for a moment, and his eyes blaze. “I know we can. We are making it work. I don’t like chit-chat.”
“We don’t have to be friends or anything, but we do need to communicate at a very basic level. We’ve spoken about this before. This isn’t going to work if you can’t talk to me. I may as well pack up my things and leave.”
“There’s no need to be so dramatic. If there is something to say, I’ll say it.
Besides, you need to be able to talk to my dragon, Harlow.
You need to have a good relationship with him…
not me.” He looks over his shoulder. Scar is calling us back.
“We need to keep our distance. You have to admit that it’s for the best. We’re good. I’m good. Don’t take it personally.”
I shrug, trying to mask the sting of his words. “Sure thing.”
Then we start walking back to where Georgia is preparing to hoist the saddle up.
I’m not sure why I’m being so prickly about this. He’s right…I guess. I don’t like the cold shoulder…that’s all. It shouldn’t bother me this much, but it does. I probably just need to get over it, and I will.
They assemble around us as Georgia positions herself at the start. She lifts the saddle, and Scar shouts for her to go. Georgia sprints and is fast out of the gates. She’s at the flag and back in no time, dropping the saddle at her feet.
“You made it,” Scar tells her.
She doesn’t look happy about it, though. In fact, she looks plain miserable when everyone cheers for her, like succeeding is the worst thing that could have happened.
My turn. I pick up the saddle. My muscles are already fatigued, but I push that thought aside.
I’m going to make it.
Scar shouts for me to go. I do my best to do as Drake suggested.
Think about what you want to achieve.
I want to run fast to that flag and back. I say it over and over like a mantra so that negative thoughts are unable to creep in.
Run fast. To the flag. Run fast. To the flag.
Once I round the turn at the flag, I change it to: Run fast. Cross the line. Run fast. Success.
I dash over the line, my legs pumping, my lungs burning, and I drop the saddle the moment I cross back over. Scar looks down at his stopwatch and then up at me.
“You made it.”
Relief floods through me, together with a burst of adrenaline that only success can bring. It worked. I did it. I didn’t trip or fall.