Chapter 12
Twelve
Rhylan held me until I cried myself dry, stroking my hair and murmuring soothing things, but by the time the last of the tears fell I’d finally come back to my senses.
To realize that I was snuggled up against his bare chest, the heat of his skin keeping the worst of the cold at bay, and that I didn’t want to move away from him. That I was taking comfort from the same dragon I’d dreamed of revenging myself upon in a million terrible ways.
I sat up abruptly, smoothing back a few loose strands of hair as I avoided his gaze and wiped my face with the back of my gloves. “I need to stretch before we go. My legs are killing me.”
Rhylan made a gesture as if to help me to my feet, but I pushed myself up with my good arm and took a few steps, putting distance between me and him. It wasn’t enough, of course, but it was better than being within his arm’s reach.
Instead of snorting with derision, as I’d half expected, he remained silent and immediately shifted to dragon form, flattening a massive expanse of snow into boggy mud puddles.
He kept pace with me as I slogged through the snow, forcing feeling back into my numbed calves and calling myself a thousand kinds of stupid inside my head.
“You’re not all bad,” I admitted abruptly, watching his head swing my way from the corner of my eye. “You’re actually pretty…decent, when it comes down to it.”
He made a noise that I took to mean, “Exemplary compliment, Sera.”
“Yeah, don’t get used to it. Or this.” I aggressively wiped away another stray tear. “I’m not a crier. I just…need to go home. I need my Ascendant’s guidance, and I need to see it with my own eyes. Even if…even when I am Dragonesse, Varyamar will always be home to me.”
He bumped me with his snout, which was roughly like being run into by a galloping horse, and I almost fell over. A fresh, sharp pain jolted through my shoulder. Holding back a grimace, I reached out and patted his nose, feeling both the smoothness of scales and the roughness of bone spurs even through my gloves.
I sighed as he closed his eyes, almost like an oversized cat. “Let’s go back, then. Viros will want to go over the saddles and straps all over again.”
And this time the flight was a little easier. Rhylan avoided sharp banks and turns, flying like he was balancing a fragile glass statue on his back.
While the greater part of me appreciated that, a small, sour part noted that if we weren’t in this position, he wouldn’t have to do that. Not only did I feel suffocated by this arrangement, but surely Rhylan also felt that he was trapped in a box, his dragon side hemmed in by the constraints of his rider.
But he wouldn’t have asked you to play along if he didn’t think he could handle it, I thought, shaking out my stiff hands one at a time as we glided back over the Krysien range.
Which made me the only one here who was consistently whining. I sent up a prayer to Naimah of the Flame, asking for more patience, for much more fortitude, and for all the Houses to unite in our Court at the First Claim and end the war before it started.
That last one was a stretch, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.
When Rhylan dropped through Jhazra’s dragon door, landing so delicately it was like he was trying to avoid squashing a mouse, Viros was already there and waiting. I unhooked my right leg strap and slid down, holding out the strap that had ripped off.
“It came loose,” I told him, weariness crashing over me as soon as my feet touched solid ground. “I think we’ll need to find a way to reinforce them without making them any more obvious.”
Viros examined the bit of leather, brows drawing together in a frown. “Indeed. We can’t install any more safety lines or it’ll look too much like wyvern harnessing, but I’ll take a look at the stitching.”
He was staring at it so intently I wondered if something was wrong.
The poor man had been working around the clock to modify the saddle; a stitch had probably come loose, and I wasn’t going to blame him for it. In the end, nothing had happened that couldn’t be fixed.
I heard Rhylan shift and kept my gaze on Viros, even as the heavily-muscled dragon disappeared into the storage room to pull clothes on. It was easier said than done. Rhylan’s ass had to have been sculpted by the gods themselves. There was no other reasonable explanation for it.
Viros pulled at a thread, and finally Rhylan emerged in pants, still buttoning a white shirt.
“We need to find Kirana,” he said, watching Viros unspool the thread. “Sera’s arm was dislocated during the flight. I’ll meet you up here later and we can discuss the modifications.”
I was quite sure I didn’t miss the significant look between Rhylan and Viros then. They were communicating something with their eyes I wasn’t quite privy to, and neither of them made any effort to bring me into it before Rhylan gently took my elbow and led me away.
On another day, I might’ve ground my heels in and asked what the problem was, but everything hurt, and I would’ve killed a dragon with my bare hands for something to eat. I could always corner Viros alone later, and pry out whatever was worrying them.
Rhylan led me down the glittering halls to the spiral staircase, taking me down a level to a room where pungent smoke billowed from under cracks in the unmarked door. I reached out to push it open, but he stopped me.
“Sera…” he started, staring down at me with the same frown that was in danger of being permanently engraved between his brows.
I made a face, but kept it light. He’d been kind to me earlier when he didn’t need to be, and when I didn’t deserve it, so…the least I could do was make it clear that I was playing. “Do you need a hug now? Did the long flight tire the big, strong dragon’s wings?”
The frown smoothed out, giving way to a second of confusion and then a playful grin. “Only if you’re offering. Even dragons need a little tender loving care now and then.”
I opened my arms gingerly, all too aware of the ache in my shoulders, and Rhylan leaned against me. As his arms enclosed around my shoulders, I took a deep, slow breath, filling my nose with the scent of spice and smoke, the faintest cinders of dragonfire, and the clean soap of his shirt.
I gently squeezed him, marveling at the thick layer of muscle under my hands, and patted his back, feeling a knot of scar tissue even through the shirt.
He tensed slightly in my grasp, and I looked up, about to ask why that would bother him now, but the flames in his eyes cut off any thought.
Rhylan leaned in, so close I could almost taste him…
“I really should see Kirana.” The words spilled out of me in a rush, and I gently braced my hands on his chest.
With my palms flat against him, I felt the growl emanating through him. And in order to bring myself to pull away, I had to actively summon one of the many hateful thoughts I’d entertained about him while on Mistward Isle.
“I’ll see you later,” I whispered, looking away at the floor and walls, at anything but him.
Rhylan exhaled slowly, but I kept my eyes cast down. It was body language a dragon would understand.
“Later.” His voice sounded thick and frustrated, and only after I heard his retreating footsteps could I breathe again.
For several long minutes I composed myself in the hallway, telling myself everything I’d known from the beginning: that this was a ploy, and that he hated me, and I hated him, and in less than a year we would say goodbye and never see each other again.
It was funny how these reasons grew less and less convincing over time.
Then I opened the door, Kirana squinted at me over a bubbling alembic, and I prepared myself for the onslaught of a lecture that was soon to come..
Morning foundme under the bed, curled into my nest of blankets, and I sprung wide awake as soon as the door opened.
It wasn’t Nilsa’s feet in my doorway, but a big pair of beaten-up leather boots.
A cold slash of panic cut through me before I heard Rhylan’s voice.
“Good morning, princess,” he said cheerfully. “I brought breakfast, if you’d like to crawl out of your lair.”
“It’s a nest,” I grumbled, my stomach pinching tight as a whiff of savory bacon caressed my nose. His boots crossed to the table and I heard the soft sound of a tray being laid down, which was alluring enough to get me to crawl out from under the bed. “Also, it’s defensible.”
Rhylan was already seated and filling my plate when I emerged, tossing my messy braid back over my shoulder and following the siren song of food.
Once, I might’ve been ashamed of the loose hair and rumpled clothes, but he’d already seen me at my worst, and he didn’t bat an eye over the red pillow-marks pressed into my cheek. He’d already pulled out my chair for me. “Come eat with me, we’ve got a lot to do today and not much time.”
I blinked blearily at him and dragged myself up off the floor, collapsing into the chair opposite him. “How are you in such a good mood this early in the morning?”
Rhylan raised an eyebrow at me, and nodded towards the window. “It’s almost noon, darling.”
I rubbed my eyes, happy that I could move my shoulder without wincing. Kirana had wrapped it in poultice, stuffed me full of dinner, and sent me to bed with a ‘sleepy tea’ that had had me snoring about five minutes after I finished it. If it was noon, I’d slept for over thirteen hours. “Your sister is a little too good at her work sometimes.”
“Don’t tell her that, it’ll go to her head.” Rhylan handed me a cup of pomegranate juice and stuck a fork in my hand. “Come on now. Much to do. Little time.”
I skipped the fork and opted for using my fingers to shove two strips of bacon in my mouth, watching Rhylan as he salted some eggs. He was practically vibrating with energy, eating with a speed I’d only seen in the ravenous teenage dragons of the Training Grounds.
It occurred to me, five bacon slices in, that he’d never really offered to eat with me before. He was always stuffing food in my hands and ordering the Bloodless of his House to bring up trays, but he’d never actually sat down and taken a meal right across from me.
To my horror, I suddenly wondered if I was chewing too loudly. Oh gods. Had I been crunching the entire time?
And I’d spoken directly to his face, less than two feet away from him.
With morning breath.
I covered for my sudden panic by taking a too-large bite of my bacon and almost choking to death.
“I know I’m always on you about eating more, but I mean you should eat it, not inhale it,” he said, gently thumping my back.
Instinctively, I wanted to snap at him to mind his own business, but…I didn’t want to ruin whatever good mood this was. If not for Kirana’s sleepy tea, I would have lain awake for hours, thinking about his lips within inches of mine, and the heat of scaled skin under my palms.
But he seemed to have brushed right past it…so maybe I was overthinking. Maybe it was just the primal urge all dragons had, not any urge for me specifically.
That would explain why he didn’t care about my sleep-rumpled hair or morning breath, if he didn’t think of me that way at all.
It had just been…a lapse in judgment. That was all.
“I just get so excited over bacon,” I said when I was done coughing, my cheeks red.
Rhylan leaned back, dropping his arm. I was definitely overthinking things if I was rueing a lingering touch I had no business rueing.
“I’ve got something much better than bacon for you.” He poured me more juice, already done with his own plate.
“Like…?” Somehow I managed to leer at him through a mouthful of eggs.
“You’ll just have to finish up and find out, won’t you?” he asked, a hint of smugness in his tone. He tipped the chair onto its back legs, keeping it balanced as he watched me. “I’m not spoiling the surprise.”
I watched him carefully as I worked my way through the rest of my meal, eating as rapidly as possible without making a fool of myself again. “Not even a hint?”
“No.”
“One little, tiny, insignificant hint?”
“If it’s insignificant, there’s no point in giving you a hint, is there?”
I narrowed my eyes and he grinned at me. “Give it up, Sera. You’ll know when you know.”
“How does anyone live with you when you’re like this?” I groaned, and he popped a grape in my mouth while I was speaking.
“They’re so dazzled by my charm and good nature it doesn’t occur to them to leave.” Rhylan dangled the grapes in front of me, and I swiped them. He leaned in, playfully snatched a grape from my fingers, and tossed it in his mouth.
Before I could bounce one right off his forehead, there was a soft knock at the door, and it swung open.
Acting on instinct, I leaned back in my chair, wiping my smile away like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t. A shadow crossed Rhylan’s face, and he straightened up slowly.
“Good morning, Nilsa. See her to the flight terrace as soon as possible, please.”
Nilsa, standing in the doorway with two handmaids, bowed deeply, and there was no missing the fervent longing in her eyes when she looked at him. “Yes, my prince.”
Rhylan stood, but before he left, he tousled a piece of hair that had come loose and stuck sideways from the side of my head. I felt ashamed of how quickly I’d ruined the moment, when we’d been having fun. Getting along like normal dragonbloods.
But it was for the better, probably. We weren’t really courting.
That didn’t change the fact that my appetite was suddenly muted, and I was led to the bathroom by Nilsa and her handmaids, who sped me through the quickest bath I’d had since leaving the island and got to work trussing me in a set of plain leathers.
Before I was freed from their perfectionist clutches, Nilsa brought me a jar of sludge, and by now I was…well, not immune to it, but able to drink it without dry-heaving.
She watched me silently, and once more I had the sensation that I was being judged, and not kindly.
It’s fine, you’ll never see her again when this is over, I reminded myself, allowing the maids to take the jar away and leaving Nilsa to her other duties.
She fell out of my mind completely as I launched up the stairs to the flight terrace, aflame with curiosity over what surprise Rhylan had planned.
All I knew was that it involved flight. A long flight, if the packs Viros was attaching to the harness were anything to go by. They were stuffed with provisions, water…and two bedrolls, attached with buckles.
The dragon himself emerged from the storage room, already stripping his shirt off.
“Rhylan?” I whispered disbelievingly. “Today?”
He looked up at me, his expression slightly guarded, and nodded.
Deep down, I’d wondered if his promise was empty. If it’d be weeks before he’d consider bringing me home, or if he’d put it off until after the First Claim, when we’d potentially be embroiled in war.
I should have known better.
I needed to give him far more credit than I had so far, because he’d proved he was the kind of dragon who made promises and kept them. Since he’d plucked me from Mistward, he had given me everything I’d asked for…and in return I’d been treating him like a plague.
Shame rose in me, followed by mortification. He deserved a far better partner in this charade than me.
Without giving myself time to second-guess, I strode across the terrace and threw my arms around him. I buried my face in his chest, squeezing him as tightly as I could.
“You are the most dazzling, charming, good-natured dragon I have ever had the pleasure to meet, and if anyone claims otherwise they’re a filthy liar,” I growled against him.
Rhylan had hesitated, but he wrapped his arms around me, chuckling. “If I’d known this was the response I’d get, I would’ve done it much earlier,” he teased.
“No, you wouldn’t have. Let’s be realistic.”
“You’re right.” He paused, his warm hand resting on the crown of my head. “I have doubts about today…but Kirana assures me you’re well ahead of schedule for feeding up, against her wishes, and it should be an easy flight. We haven’t heard any word of Yura and Tidas in the eastern territories, but there’s always a chance…”
“There’s a chance even here,” I told him, relaxing my grip enough to look up at him. “Nowhere in Akalla is safe. We risk being found out every time we step foot outside your eyrie.”
Rhylan gazed at the harness, brow furrowed again. “No, nowhere’s safe. So we’re going to do what you need.”
“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. I know you don’t like it, but I…more than anything, I need to see it.” I swallowed hard. “It’s more than just my Ascendant, or my selfish desires. I can’t keep going without knowing what’s happened to my people.”
“I’d feel the same way. And I should have seen it sooner. If you need this, you need it. That’s all there is to it.” He looked down at me, then squeezed my upper arms and released me.
A pang of rejection struck me, which was…utterly ridiculous. Even Viros was watching us askance.
I shoved away the hurt, pretending I didn’t feel it at all. I didn’t deserve to feel it, especially after all the vitriol I’d spat at Rhylan from the first moment I’d stepped foot into his eyrie.
Gods, that thought made me cringe, feeling smaller than the tiniest insect. I’d doubted that he’d asked the Drakkon to free me, but now…I did believe that he must have.
And even after telling me the truth, he’d dealt with the scorn I heaped on him without returning it in kind.
I had no right to feel hurt if he turned away from me. I’d turned away from him countless times.
But my emotions didn’t want to accept the rational; they wanted to scream and rage that a dragon had turned aside when all I wanted was—
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to watch Viros instead of Rhylan’s muscled back, gleaming with scales. I did not want to mate bond with him; for gods’ sakes, the draga primal emotions were getting to me.
Pull yourself together. Maybe you can be friends at the end of it.
It was a little gut-wrenching, how…bland that sounded. Even the title of Dragonesse didn’t sound quite so appealing without the idea of a courageous, loyal Drakkon at my side…
I pinched my arm surreptitiously, focusing on that pain. If Kirana could create a sludge that would put the meat back on my bones within weeks, surely she could create something that would tamp down the hormonal drive of an unmated draga. I made a mental note to ask her if something of the sort had ever been attempted before.
Because if I was going to survive for months—potentially more than a year—in close proximity to Rhylan, something would have to be done about this. He’d made it plenty clear that although he didn’t wish for me to be exiled, he didn’t particularly like me, either.
Even before, when we’d barely had a reason to exchange a word, he’d thought of me as haughty and cold. I imagined that now, starved of any sort of company or affection for years, I was misreading his body language.
He was simply attractive and magnetic, two particularly dangerous qualities for a powerful dragon. Any unmated draga in his presence would be feeling the pull towards him, whether he liked them or not. And then he had to deal with his own unmated instincts; he’d always be on alert, subconsciously searching for the dragonblood female who completed the other half of him.
At that moment, while I was staring at Rhylan without really seeing him, a complication I hadn’t considered before struck me.
What if he laid eyes on his future mate while we were pretending to be a bonded pair? It might be rare, but it was completely possible for a mate bond to forge itself even without physical contact; it would also drive Rhylan—or me—into the new mate’s arms, completely annihilating all our plans and putting us in peril for breaking draconic Law.
And his pull was massive, a dark star demanding a satellite. There was the small but very real possibility that another draga would have just the right magnitude of animal attraction that would irrevocably tear Rhylan out of my life…
“What are you staring at, gorgeous?” he suddenly purred, inches away from me.
I almost jumped out of my skin, lost in thought of what might occur if we just happened to fly over the wrong draga at the wrong time. “Rhylan! Gods, you almost gave me a heart seizure.”
“Ah, staring at me, of course,” he said smugly, flexing his arm in a way that made my brain go strangely fuzzy again. “I don’t know why I bothered to ask.”
“I was…” I was staring at him, yes, because he was a feast for the eyes. I no longer felt bad about admitting that to myself. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. Rhylan, what happens if the mate bond forges for you? Or for me? What if we see a draga and she’s…the perfect one and the bond settles between you?”
I must’ve been staring at him wild-eyed, consumed with visions of horror and punishment, because he blinked at my expression, took my hands, and made me sit down on Viros’s wooden stool, crouching in front of me.
“First of all, that’s not going to happen.” He squeezed my hands reassuringly. “Second—”
“But you can’t know that,” I insisted. “My eyrie has been Houseless for four years. Countless dragonbloods could have encroached on my territory by now. What if—”
Rhylan put a finger to my lips, pushing against them firmly. “It is absolutely not going to happen. I know that for a fact, because I already know the draga I want. No other bond could override that desire.”
I was torn—between relief that a surprise mate bond wouldn’t forge itself out of nowhere and destroy our ruse and lives, and a twisting, gut-churning envy over this draga he wanted so badly.
“I’ve given it some thought,” he continued, keeping his finger firmly in place. “While the mate bond I would choose…isn’t going to happen for me, it could still happen for you. But I don’t believe it will. You’re…a little bit stubborn, Sera. If you could survive Mistward by sheer force of will, no doubt you could force a mate bond to back off.”
He gave me a crooked smile, an edge of bitterness to it.
“So don’t worry. Of all the things we need to be concerned about, sudden mate bonds aren’t one of them.”
I took a deep breath, then another. His smoky scent was both exciting and calming, and when he was sure I wasn’t going to burst out with more unfounded fears, he took his finger away from my lips.
“We’re in agreement, yes?”
I nodded silently, unwilling to open my mouth in fear of the question that might pop out.
Because I desperately wanted to know who this unnamed draga was that Rhylan seemed to think wouldn’t bond with him. And if he named another royal draga—particularly one I might have attended the Training Grounds with—I wasn’t sure I would be able to fend off the atavistic territorial jealousy that would compel me to tear her eyes out with my claws.
I needed to be able to look into the face of every royal dragonblood we courted and not descend into blood and chaos.
Especially over a dragon who had confessed, in his own words, that he had only chosen me in this venture for my ancient bloodline and the sway that would hold over the other Houses…not to mention my wealth.
There was no room in my life for envy over something that couldn’t be.
“Now, let me take you home?” he asked, pulling me to my feet.
“I thought you’d never ask.” I forced a smile, trying to tamp down my fears.
There was no room for fear now, not when I could take out the single jewel I’d kept on Mistward: my longing for home. It was hundreds of miles away, but so close I could almost smell it, almost feel it.
And of course, it was Rhylan who was giving it to me, when I had done nothing to deserve it at all.