Chapter 14 Rhianelle
It was only a dream.
I repeat the words until they begin to lose their meaning.
Only a dream. Nothing more.
The man beneath the mask was not truly Arescaine. My mind simply borrowed a familiar face. I have spent too much time around him lately, watching him work in the forge and following him into danger. It is hardly surprising that he found his way into my sleep.
Landon has been gone for a week, gathering intel on the Hunt’s movements, and I miss him.
The golden string between us hums steadily, proof that he’s alive and well, but it’s not the same as having him here.
I miss his companionship, his laugh, the way he hooks his chin over my shoulder when he reads over my arm.
This is just loneliness twisting itself into something ugly. That must be why my mind created something so shameful.
I press my palms against my eyes and try to unsee it.
Yet every time I close my eyes, I see Arescaine lying beside me. I remember the moment the mask came away and his face appeared beneath it.
Guilt twists through me until I can barely breathe.
Should I tell Landon?
The thought makes my stomach clench. It was only a dream, something I could not control. But it still feels like betrayal. Somewhere inside my own mind, I chose another. Even if none of it truly happened, I remember wanting him.
What kind of person does that make me?
I press both hands over my face. Tears slip through my fingers before I can stop them. I scrub them away with the back of my hand, but more follow.
I am disgusting.
Landon has never been anything but good to me, and this is how I repay him. I cannot pretend the dream meant nothing when it felt so real. When he comes back, I have to tell him. He deserves the truth, even if it changes the way he looks at me.
Even if he hates me for it.
But not today.
Today is too important. Coral may finally have her chance to fly, and I cannot allow my guilt or my foolish dream to ruin it.
That means facing Arescaine while knowing exactly what he feels like in my dreams.
By the time I leave for the testing field, I have washed the tears from my face and tied my hair back. I tell myself I can stand beside him without remembering the dream.
I can look at his hands without thinking about where they touched me. I can hear my name in his voice without imagining it whispered in the dark.
I tell myself all of this until I almost believe it.
The testing field sits at the edge of Volundr, where the city gives way to open grassland and then abruptly ends at a cliff. It’s the same place where I trained with Landon, where Coral fell again and again trying to fly. But today feels different. Today carries the weight of possibility.
Arescaine arrives before dawn, carrying the wing brace wrapped in soft cloth. Coral is already waiting, pacing back and forth near the cliff edge with more energy than I’ve seen before.
Coral knows.
Somehow, my little wyvern knows today is important.
“Your Highness.” Arescaine inclines his head, formal and careful.
“You can call me Rhianelle like before,” I say before I can stop myself. “Please.”
Something flickers in his eyes, quick as a blink. Surprise, perhaps. Then he nods. “Rhianelle, then.”
My name in his voice fills me with warmth and unease at the same time.
He kneels beside Coral, unwrapping the brace with careful hands. In the early morning light, the metal gleams like silver, every joint and curve perfect. Coral sniffs it curiously, her tail wagging.
“Easy, girl,” Arescaine murmurs. “Let’s get you fitted properly.”
I watch as he begins the process of securing the brace to her body. He’s so gentle and careful.
“Can you hold her head?” he asks without looking up. “I need both hands for this part.”
I move in front of Coral, cradling her jaw. She leans into me, trusting. My heart aches with love for my beautiful wyvern.
Arescaine works behind her. I try not to stare at how the muscles in his forearms flex as he adjusts the tension on the wing frame. He pushes his hair back from his face. I have the sudden, vivid image of running my fingers through that dark hair and pulling him close—
Stop it.
I squeeze my eyes shut, mortified.
What is wrong with me? I have a mate. I have Landon and the golden string that hums steadily between us.
But when I open my eyes, Arescaine is right there. He is bent over Coral’s wing and I’m struck again by how beautiful he is. Dangerous, dark, utterly compelling. There’s something about the angle of his jaw, the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder, that makes me want to—
“There.” His voice startles me from my thoughts. “That should do it. How does it feel, Coral?”
The little wyvern shifts her weight and the brace moves with her, the joints flexing smoothly. She extends her wings and the brace locks them into position, held at the perfect angle for flight.
Coral makes a surprised sound, looking back at her own wings like she’s seeing them for the first time. I keep one hand beneath Coral’s jaw while she tests the unfamiliar weight.
“Can she move freely?” I ask.
Arescaine’s hands linger on the metal framework, checking each connection. “She should be able to walk, run, and even jump. The braces are articulated. They only lock into flight position when weight is applied from above. The real test is whether they’ll actually support her in the air.”
He stands, wiping his hands on his breeches before stepping back. I see the tension in his shoulders and the tightness around his eyes.
Arescaine is nervous. This vampire who faces down danger without flinching is nervous.
“I guess there is only one way to find out,” I say.
Something moves in the shadows behind Arescaine’s back. I tense before I see what it is.
The darkness at his feet rises. It stretches upward into the shape of a tall man, though its body is woven entirely from shadow.
I stare.
“What are you?” I breathe.
The creature bows to me. Before I can retreat, it takes my hand with surprising gentleness and presses a kiss against my knuckles.
A strange familiarity moves through me.
For one dizzying moment, the field vanishes. I have stood like this beneath another sky in this exact arrangement, with Coral, Arescaine, this shadow and me. My brain strains toward the memory before losing it like smoke through fingers.
Something tugs at the edges of my mind. This creature, this impossible dark thing, feels known.
Coral has no such confusion. The little wyvern clearly knows the creature. She trots straight up to the shadow, sniffs it once, and allows it to settle a small wreath of pale flowers onto her head. She wears them like a crown between her horns, completely unbothered.
A second shape emerges from the dark. An enormous wolf, formed from dense black shadow with eyes like molten gold.
“Coinneach and Fenrir are my familiars,” Arescaine says, watching my face. “They will catch Coral if she falls.”
Coinneach places one hand over his chest and bows again, solemnly promising what words cannot. Fenrir approaches Coral and presses his massive head against her side. She nuzzles his dark muzzle without the slightest fear.
Their confidence should reassure me, but I look toward the drop beyond the cliff. “If she falls from that height, will they truly be able to reach her in time?”
“Yes.” Arescaine’s answer comes without hesitation. “They’ve caught heavier things than a wyvern, and they move through shadow. Distance means very little to them.”
Somehow I believe him. I believe in them.
Arescaine looks at Coral. “Ready?”
Coral walks to the cliff edge. The braces move with her naturally without hindering her stride. She looks back at us once, seeking permission or reassurance.
“Go on, sweetling,” I whisper. “Try.”
Coral turns back to the open air and takes three running steps.
Then she leaps.
My heart stops.
She’s falling just like every failed attempt. The braces don’t work. This was a foolish hope and now she’s going to—
Her wings lock.
The braces engage with a clicking sound and suddenly her wings become rigid. They extend fully, catching the rising current beneath them. Coral’s not falling anymore. She’s gliding.
“Oh gods,” I breathe, my hands pressed to my mouth.
My wyvern soars along the cliff face. The wind catches her wings and she banks, shifting her weight to turn.
Coral is flying.
My wyvern is actually flying.
The morning sun breaks over the mountains, catching on her pale scales, turning her into something from a dream.
A sound escapes me. It’s half a laugh and half a sob. Beside me, I hear Arescaine’s sharp intake of breath.
“It works,” he whispers to himself, disbelief softening his voice.
Coral climbs higher. Wait—that’s too high. I see it the moment it happens. She tries to flap, but the braces aren’t designed for that. They’re made for gliding, not powered flight. The sudden movement throws off her balance.
She tilts and wobbles and then—
She’s falling.
“No!” The scream tears from my throat. “Coral!”
She drops like a stone, wings pinwheeling uselessly, the braces unable to catch the air at this angle.
The shadow beasts move.
They’re faster than anything I’ve ever seen. One moment they are waiting at the edge of the field. The next they are beneath Coral, their bodies expanding and merging into a broad cushion of living darkness.
Coral hits them and bounces on the writhing darkness as though she has landed on a cloud. The shadows cradle her gently, lowering her the last few feet to the ground where she sits, dazed but unhurt.
I run to her and drop to my knees beside her. “Are you hurt? Let me see—”
She makes an annoyed sound and shakes me off. Maybe I’m fussing over nothing. Coral looks up at me and makes an excited chirping noise, her tail wagging frantically.
Arescaine arrives beside us a moment later.
“You did well,” he tells her.
Coral preens like she understands every word.
He kneels beside us, checking the braces for damage. His shoulder brushes against mine. I’m suddenly very aware of how close we are. He smells of cedar smoke and heated iron.