Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Jack
Iam flying.
Actually, properly, flying through the crisp winter sky on the back of a dragon, and I think I might be losing my mind with sheer joy.
Zh’s golden scales gleam like molten metal beneath me.
The rhythm of her massive wings creates a hypnotic pulse that vibrates through my entire body, and the wind whips through my hair with enough force to bring tears to my eyes.
I don’t care. This is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.
“Having fun?” Harlen shouts over the wind, his voice carrying easily despite the rushing air around us.
“This is bloody brilliant!” I shout back, probably grinning like a complete lunatic.
Harlen’s answering laugh is pure delight. “Told you so!”
I glance around at our aerial procession, marvelling at the sight.
Cai rides his emerald green dragon with the easy confidence of long practice, sitting perfectly balanced as they cut through the air with powerful strokes.
The dragon’s scales catch the winter sunlight like jewels, creating flashes of brilliant green against the pale sky.
Kirby’s dragon is a study in elegant darkness, his onyx black scales creating a striking silhouette against the blue. Even from here I can see the way Kirby moves with him, completely in harmony with every shift and turn.
But it’s Arin and Eerie who make me smile most. The young man who was translating for us rides his red dragon with obvious joy, but it’s his passenger who captures my attention.
Despite having seemingly perfectly functional wings of his own, Eerie is snuggled up against Arin’s back, arms wrapped around his waist with complete trust and contentment.
Even across species and language barriers, love is unmistakable.
The sight of them together, comfortable and affectionate despite the rushing wind and dizzying height, fills me with warmth.
“Woohoo!” I can’t help but whoop as Zh banks into a turn, the ground spinning far below us in a dizzying display of Welsh countryside.
Everyone else is grinning madly too, even though they must have done this a thousand times. The pure exhilaration of flight seems to be universal, something that never gets old no matter how experienced you are. It makes me feel less silly for being so completely overwhelmed by wonder.
Zh spreads her wings and glides, presumably catching an air current that lifts us higher without effort. The sudden silence is almost as breathtaking as the speed, broken only by the whisper of wind over scales.
Then suddenly Dyfri lands on my shoulder.
The casual intimacy and trust of the gesture sends warmth flooding through my chest. My husband in raven form is perched beside my head as if this is the most natural thing in the world.
His talons grip my jacket just firmly enough to maintain balance without digging in, and I can feel the small adjustments he makes as Zh shifts beneath us.
I turn my head slightly so I can see him better. Even in raven form, there’s something unmistakably Dyfri about the way he holds himself. Regal and elegant, but relaxed in a way I’ve rarely seen from him.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask quietly, not wanting to shout with him so close to my ear.
He lets out a soft caw that sounds almost like laughter, then shakes his wings with obvious contentment. He’s clearly enjoying himself as much as I am, and the sight makes my heart do ridiculous things.
I shake my head in amazement, careful not to dislodge my passenger.
How did my life come to this? Not so long ago, I was just the Prime Minister’s son, dealing with nothing more exciting than university lectures and the occasional state dinner, while trying to find my way after giving up rugby.
Now I’m riding a dragon through the Welsh mountains with my fey prince husband perched on my shoulder.
The transformation has been so gradual that I sometimes forget how impossible this all is.
Marriage to unify occupiers and occupied, falling in love with someone who can turn into a raven, negotiating with necromancers and dragon riders and tylwyth refugees.
When did the extraordinary become my everyday?
Dyfri shifts on my shoulder, turning his head to look at me with one bright black eye.
There’s something almost questioning in his gaze, as if he’s wondering what I’m thinking about.
The intelligence behind that corvid stare is entirely him, and I love that I can recognise my husband even when he’s wearing feathers.
He deserves this, I think, watching him spread his wings slightly to feel the wind.
He deserves more fun in his life. All the fun.
After everything he’s endured, all the political manoeuvring and court intrigue and careful mask-wearing, he should have entire days of nothing but joy and wonder and the simple pleasure of flying.
The thought of giving him that, of building a life where he can be this relaxed and happy on a regular basis, makes something fierce and protective rise in my chest. Whatever it takes to keep him safe, whatever world we have to build or escape to, I want to see him this content every day.
We spend another hour in the air, watching Eerie demonstrate the anchor points with graceful aerial manoeuvres that paint glowing patterns against the sky.
Even I can see the mathematical precision in his movements, the way each gesture corresponds to clear patterns.
It’s beautiful and terrifying all at once.
By the time we land back at the keep, my legs are wobbly and my face aches from smiling. The dragons settle onto the landing platforms with surprising grace for creatures so massive, and I slide down from Zh’s back with Harlen’s steadying hand on my arm.
“Not bad for a first-timer,” he grins, giving my shoulder a companionable slap. “You’ve got good balance.”
“That was incredible,” I manage, still slightly breathless. “Thank you for taking me up.”
Dyfri shifts back to his humanoid form beside me, a tingle rippling through the air as he trades feathers for skin and bone.
A rider hands him his silk robes, and Dyfri shrugs into them with great nonchalance. I swallow and avert my eyes, but nobody else seems to be batting an eyelid about the casual nudity. I guess my hangups are not part of the paranormal world.
“Ready to head home?” Dyfri asks, and there’s something soft in his voice that makes the word ‘home’ sound like a promise.
Home. Our flat, our bed, our life together. The place where, for brief snatches of time, we can be ourselves without political considerations or magical alliances or the weight of saving the world.
“More than ready,” I tell him.
Back in our flat, I’m still buzzing with excitement as I pace around the living room, gesturing wildly as I try to convey the pure joy of the experience.
“Did you see the way the light disappeared on Kirby’s dragon’s scales?
Like he was made of the void! And Eerie’s demonstration, the way those patterns just hung in the air.
.. I’ve never seen anything like it!” I spin around to face Dyfri, who’s watching me with fond amusement from his position on the sofa.
“And Zh, she was so gentle despite being absolutely massive. I could feel her thinking, you know? Like she was making sure I felt safe the entire time.”
Dyfri’s smile is soft and indulgent, the kind of expression that makes my heart skip beats. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Enjoyed it? I bloody loved it!” I flop down beside him on the sofa, still grinning. “Best day of my life, honestly. Well, except for...” I trail off, suddenly aware of the implications of that statement.
“Except for?” Dyfri prompts, raising an eyebrow.
Heat crawls up my neck. “Except for the other day… in the bath, I mean. That was... that was also rather spectacular.”
His laugh is delighted, and I love the way it transforms his entire face. “Rather spectacular? High praise indeed.”
I reach out without thinking, brushing a strand of his dark hair back behind his slightly pointed ear. The gesture feels natural, intimate in a way that would have terrified me weeks ago. His hair is silk-soft against my fingers, still carrying the faint scent of wind and freedom from our flight.
The moment I touch him, his expression grows serious. Something shifts in his eyes, a shadow of vulnerability that makes my chest tighten.
“I didn’t plan for this,” he says quietly.
“What?” I ask, though my heart is already starting to race.
“Us.” The word falls between us like a stone into still water, creating ripples of possibility and terror in equal measure.
Us. He said, ‘us’. Not ‘this situation’ or ‘these complications’ or any of the careful political euphemisms he could have chosen. Us, like we’re something real and specific and worth naming.
My internal voice is screaming with joy, but I force myself to stay calm.
“What about us?”
“Everything is about to get so busy. Frantic. There will be no time to nurture this.” He gestures vaguely between us, but the helplessness in his voice is clear. “The coordination required, the politics of keeping everyone working together. It’s going to consume everything.”
The weight of reality settles over me like a cold blanket. He’s right, of course. The next few months are going to be chaotic beyond imagination. Every moment will be dedicated to saving the world, leaving no space for quiet conversations or gentle touches or the slow work of falling in love.
“Saving the world is more important than falling in love,” I say, though the words taste bitter in my mouth.
Dyfri’s eyes narrow, and something sharp and challenging flashes across his features. “Is it?”
My heart flutters. My mouth grows dry. The question hangs between us, loaded with implications I’m not sure I’m ready to face.
“Okay, fair point,” I manage after a moment. “Nothing is more important than falling in love. But there’s no time limit. No expiry date.” I take his hand, intertwining our fingers with deliberate care. “We can save the world, and then fall in love.”
“Can we?” The vulnerability in his voice nearly undoes me.
I study his face, seeing the fear beneath the question. The terror that this fragile thing between us might not survive the trials ahead. That the weight of responsibility and the choices we’ll have to make might transform us into strangers.
“Yes,” I say firmly, bringing his hand to my lips to press a soft kiss to his knuckles.
“We can. We will. Because who I’m falling in love with isn’t just who you are right now, it’s who you are at your core.
The man who chooses to protect Earth even when it means betraying everything he knows.
The person who trusts me enough to let down his guard, who’s brave enough to be vulnerable.
That doesn’t change, Dyfri. That’s not going anywhere. ”
His breath catches, and for a moment I see everything in his eyes. The hope and fear and desperate longing all tangled together.
“But I might be.”
He says it softly, gently, but the words are still sharp. They cut into me. A thousand internal paper cuts.
“If you choose to stay, I’d very much like to fall in love with you.” I breathe with all the passion of my soul.
His dark eyes widen. His hand trembles in mine.
“Promise me,” he whispers.
“I promise,” I tell him, meaning every word. “We’re going to save the world, and then, if you stay, we’re going to fall completely and utterly in love.”
He leans forward until our foreheads touch, and I can feel his breath against my lips. “I’m already halfway there.”
“Only halfway?” I tease gently.
His smile is soft and real and entirely mine. “Give me time. I’m still learning how to do this.”
“We can take all the time in the world,” I tell him. “After we save it.”