19. In the Air Tonight
~ GRACE ~
“Give yourself a moment to catch your breath if you need it.”
Vane’s words were toneless, but his breath fluttered in my ear and my skin pebbled from my neck to my knee on that side. I prayed he didn’t notice.
He’d shown me how to use the mounting strap to walk up Kham’s side. And at first, I was delighted—I had enough strength in my arms to get to the top of the massive dragon’s leg before I needed to pause for rest.
But I hadn’t counted on Vane following me—right behind me. The heat of his chest at my back, his thighs under my seat, his hands gripping the strap under and above mine as he used his body like a safety net, ready to catch me if I fell.
I was breathless from the climb, but also because that trilling coil of pleasure reappeared in my chest and made my body ache.
“Hitch the strap behind your hip—you’ll be surprised how much easier it is to maintain position.
” He let go with one hand to show me how to position the strap, and the knuckles of his other hand, gripping the mounting strap higher than my head, turned white.
The tendons stood proud on the back of his hand, and forearm, disappearing under his sleeve which he’d pushed halfway to his elbow, revealing the wounds still healing on his wrists.
The red, raw skin made me wince, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was so strong.
I swallowed in an effort to wet the roof of my mouth, but it didn’t work.
I had to clear my throat before I could speak without sounding hoarse.
“I can keep going,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment when he shifted his weight behind me and his chest pressed harder against my back for half a breath.
The sensation of him right there made me yearn to let go of the strap and be caught. Cradled. Perhaps kissed again?
It was madness. The man despised me. Had almost throttled me when he thought I was a spy. Launched at me—tackled me, when he was angry. I should have hated him, with his anger and judgment.
So, why did the slightest brush of his hand, or look from those dark eyes send my skin prickling?
“Then go ahead. There’s a fine line between resting and ultimately requiring more effort from your body. If you can maintain your grip, keep going. This will become second nature with time, and your strength will increase every day. But it’s a dangerous fall. Take no risks.”
I nodded and started climbing again—hand over hand, leaning back so my weight was braced on my feet against Kham’s scaled shoulder. But with Vane behind me, the movement was slow—and the brush of his thighs and chest were distracting in the extreme.
However, eventually, we made it to Kham’s withers.
There was an awkward moment when he planted his palm under my bottom to push me up so I could kick a leg over Kham’s spine. I felt my cheeks flame and knew I was blushing to my roots. But either he didn’t notice, or he ignored it.
“Lay forward over his neck and hold onto the straps with both hands so I can reach over you,” he instructed quietly, his voice deep and rough with weariness.
I did as he said and closed my eyes when one arm hooked over my back, the other hand clasping Kham’s neck ridge, just under my chin. Then, he heaved himself up and over, pinning me against Kham’s neck as he slid onto the dragon’s wide back behind me.
I didn’t move as Vane sat up, but shivered when he put a hand to my waist and urged me to sit up straight.
“…find your comfortable seat. The hours will be long and you’re going to be sore because you aren’t used to it. But there’s no way to grow used to it without enduring. So, let’s find the position that gives you the best chance to be able to walk when we dismount in a few hours.”
Cheeks still flaming, I wriggled and bounced as he instructed, until I ended up with my rear pressed against his thighs.
I naturally sat with knees bent to grip the dragon’s sides, as I would a horse.
But his knees pressed under my thighs. And his chest was hot at my back.
He kept moving, reaching for the safety straps, clipping one to his own belt, then the second to mine.
The feeling of his fingers pinching the back of the trousers he’d brought for me—which were a little long, but fit me better through the waist—made a tingle skate up my spine and my breath shallow.
Yet, his tone was so cool, so toneless, I thought he was focused on instruction and untouched by our close quarters.
Until he started to remind me about holding the neck straps in opposing grips, and his voice cracked.
He cleared his throat. I tried to hide my grin.
“Tell me what you remember about how to ride take-off?” he asked flatly.
“I pull up on the neck straps as hard as I can. Pull myself in my seat. Ride his strides, and lean with him when he banks.”
“That’s right,” Vane said gruffly. “Barring something drastic, I won’t let you fall. But even if you do, don’t panic. You’ll swing until Kham levels, then I’ll help you get back into position.”
I nodded and took hold of the straps in the way he’d shown me.
He wrapped arms around either side of me and gripped the straps above my hands. I had to fight a shiver—and couldn’t help being grateful when Kham began to move, and his heavy strides pushed me back into Vane’s chest.
It was hard not to simply sink into him, to ease some of that aching want in my chest. But I knew he’d have no patience for it, so I tried to keep the leaning to a minimum.
Then we were flying again, and it stole my breath.
Koa whistled, and I offered a happy whoop in return.
There were patchy clouds tonight. The large, bright moon half-obscured, but gilding the world in silver.
As the dragons glided, I was fascinated, watching Koa find air-currents to ride, and feeling Kham do the same, their massive bodies shifting with such small, precise movements. Their wing membranes so delicate, and yet so strong.
Below us, everything looked blue, black, and silver.
The shadows were impenetrable, but the moonlight shimmered on water, leaf, and grass.
Here and there, pockets of light shone through the night—farmsteads, and small villages.
But most of the terrain in this area was heavily wooded and bled into the mountains that stretched off to our right as we flew south.
I couldn’t help but smile—and almost cry happy tears—as I watched the landscape pass beneath us.
It seemed with every passing mile that the shackles of my life fell away.
At some point, we would fly over my father’s estate, or within sight of it, I was sure.
But we were too high to discern precisely where it was.
I grieved for my parents… and also felt free.
No matter what Vane thought, I wasn’t heartless about the consequences of my actions.
I ached for the pain this would cause my parents.
The scandal they’d be forced to weather.
But I also prayed that my disappearance would be viewed as a true mystery.
And with time, they’d garner sympathy, rather than whispers.
When we were in an area that I was sure couldn’t be more than a mile from our estate, I said a quiet prayer for my family’s continued safety and security, even without my marriage. Then, with a heavy exhale, I turned my focus to the land—and the future—we flew toward.
It was happening. It was really happening. Not just adventure, but a new life. I could barely contain my joy. Had Vane not sat so close, I would have bounced in my seat.
I remembered the ache of envy I’d felt when I listened to Bren’s stories about flying with the dragon Akhane. I hoped they were both safe. I hoped I’d see Bren again. I hoped she’d been a true friend, as I suspected. I enjoyed her a great deal.
For the first hour of that incredible flight, I could sink into my thoughts because Vane was virtually silent, unless he had an instruction to help me balance, or ride a turn.
And even though I wished we could speak, wished we could find our way through this yearning, I was still grateful.
He didn’t yell or curse. And though his tone was short, it was no different than my father’s when he was distracted.
He offered advice on how to use the dragon’s scales to help me grip, while we ate from the bag he’d tied to Kham’s harness.
Then, to my delight, he began to instruct me about the dragons, and the rules of Furyknight flight.
“The first rule of flying is, never tie yourself down. The temptation will be there. Especially early on, when you’re still building muscle strength and you get sick of falling.
But you won’t develop the strength without having to do it.
Plus, it’s too dangerous. The dragon’s weight and momentum is a threat on its own.
If your dragon stumbles on takeoff or landing and you’re thrown off, the safety straps allow you to swing free.
Your dragon will do all they can to keep you from being crushed.
Give them every option available. Do not tie down. ”
I nodded. “Understood,” I said firmly. It was something I’d always been told in horse riding as well, so I could see the wisdom in it. “What else?”
Vane hesitated, but then launched into an explanation of the different straps on the harness.
“…some will seem unnecessary when you’re inexperienced, but they aren’t.
Accept the knowledge of those who came before you and maintain the integrity of your harness.
We may need to adjust the materials on yours as Bren did for hers.
But all the straps and buckles are needed and must be maintained impeccably.
Cleaned and oiled weekly, and checked for damage every time you ride.
Do not underestimate the importance of any piece of the harness, no matter how small. ”
I nodded again. “Inexperienced riders question a horse’s cheek strap on the bridle. I know what you mean.”
He didn’t answer immediately, but I felt him lean back. When I looked over my shoulder, he stared down at me frowning.
“What’s wrong?” Had I said something wrong? Should I not compare this to the horses? I knew they weren’t the same, but the principles seemed similar.
“You accept instruction very quickly,” he said finally.
I frowned. “You don’t want me to?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then why are you frowning?”
“Because I can’t decide if you’re telling me what you think I want to hear, or if you’re truly that humble.”
I huffed. “Dear Lord, you men are all the same.”
“Oh? And how is that?” he asked tightly.
“So protective of your pride that you cannot trust someone who isn’t so precious.”
He didn’t respond, and I wondered if I’d overstepped. I glanced at him over my shoulder again, but even though his lips were twisted like he’d tasted something sour, his gaze was thoughtful, rather than angry.
I was relieved and relaxed a hair—only to brush his chest and feel him stiffen.
Neither of us spoke again for some time.