46. Are You Hurt?
~ VOSKI ~
It was protocol for the dragons with the Flameborne in the net to be the first to land, giving them the clearest space and less chance of harm.
“Curl up, hands over your head, knees at your chest. You’ll drag for a time, but the meadow is a soft landing,” I called to her as the dragons descended the final feet.
Above us, dragons wheeled and took turns coming in to land, but I didn’t wait. The moment Kham and Ekko came to a halt, I slid down the mounting strap and ran to the net. The dragons let go of the corners so it could be untwisted.
As Grace pushed at the net around her, I reached it and tore at it, yanking the twisted length up and away, untangling it in frustrated tugs and cursing under my breath.
Grace was quiet. Too quiet. She pressed at the twisted net above her head and helped me burrow through until finally, I made a gap and she tumbled out.
“Grace!”
She’d caught one toe on the netting and tipped out, catching her weight on her hands with a little cry. As I swept her up, her head tipped back. Her eyes closed.
I was frantic—had she passed out? “Ronen, call a healer—”
I froze, cutting off, as her face screwed up into a grimace…
and she laughed. “I’m fine. I’m well,” she spluttered.
Pawing at me so I’d let her down. I hadn’t realized I’d lifted her, held her to my chest. But she turned in my arms and grasped my shoulders, putting her feet to the ground and holding onto me only until she had her balance.
Horrified by the amount of blood on her shirt and leathers, I took her face in both hands and made her look at me.
“Open your eyes, and focus,” I snapped.
She went still, eyes wide—and even brighter because those huge, blue oceans were surrounded by red smears and the beginnings of freckles.
I thumbed up her eyelids to check how her pupils responded to light—contracting as they should, thank God—then turned her head slowly, cupping her neck to make sure nothing moved in her spine that shouldn’t.
“Does it hurt?” I snapped. “In your neck? Your head? Is your nose broken? Are there other tender spots—” I pressed thumbs to her cheekbones and along the edges of her brows looking for soft spots that would indicate bone-shatter, or if she flinched against pain.
“Please don’t worry,” she said thickly. There was only a small trickle of blood from her nose now, but it was clear there’d been a great deal more just a short time ago.
“I’m not worried, I’m concerned,” I muttered, knowing it didn’t make sense, but ignoring the niggle of unease as I touched both sides of her nose with flattened thumbs, feeling for protrusions or soft spots.
She winced at the pressure, but it appeared that she hadn’t actually broken it.
Just given herself a good slam. Her eyes were already beginning to bruise.
Tomorrow she would look like she’d been in a fist-fight with a man.
“We didn’ havta land,” she said, her voice partially muffled by my hands. “It hurd at first, but now I’m fine. I can go again. We can do id again. I’ll do bedder!”
I scowled at her, shaking my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not flying until you’ve seen a healer. Can you see clearly?”
“Yes, I’m—”
“Follow my finger—and tell me how many I’m holding up.”
She blinked, then focused. “One finger. And I told you. I’m fine. We don’ haveto stop.”
“Assess, Flameborne,” I snapped. “You are probably in shock. Your body may be masking pain. Sit your ass down and assess.”
Brows pinching over her nose, she did as I’d said and settled to the ground, but she didn’t stop staring at me with brows high, her expression pleading.
“I can do id! I was winded when I landed on Koa. But I’m not hurd, except bruises.
Please, don’t gib up on me—I know I can do it. If you take me back up—”
“There’s no need to go back up, Grace. You did well,” Ronen said calmly.
She whipped her head around to stare up at him.
“Harle could give her instructions on how to clean her leathers when she gets back,” Gil called from a few feet away. He’d been next to land, and trotted toward us, grinning.
“Hey!” Harle called, almost falling off his dragon in his rush to get down and defend himself. “How long are we going to do this? For real? Two Flameborne and you’re still trying to say—”
Something in my chest snapped, I whirled on him and roared, “Slow down, we have an injured Flameborne.” Then I turned on Gil. “This isn’t the time for fucking jokes!”
Both men stopped in their tracks. Harle flinched, but Gil’s eyes narrowed and that competitive gleam entered his gaze.
“Dear Lord, I’m not sure if you all need a good sleep or something more energetic,” Bren said dryly as she walked up behind the others.
But she ignored the rest of us as she squatted next to Grace, murmuring.
Grace continued with the hushed assurances that she was fine to keep flying, but I glared at Ronen—who glared right back, like I was the one not taking this seriously.
More voices, more jokes, more relieved whistles and cheers as the others joined us, then Ronen offered a hand to help Grace to her feet.
“Congratulations, Flameborne,” he said, smiling. “That was the most impressive display I have ever seen from someone who hasn’t trialed.”
“Don’t encourage her!” I rasped, but the others cheered and crowded her.
Ronen shot me a look, and Gil folded his arms. Grace smiled, though was clearly confused. Bren was overjoyed. The others were impressed and celebrating her. None of them were worried. She’d almost died, and they were celebrating?
I took a step back.
As my brothers closed in around her, laughing and teasing each other—and especially Harle for now being out-flown by two women—I gaped.
Grace looked from one to the other, her face covered in red smears, and bloodstains turning brown on her sleeves, but her eyes still sparkled. “But, I fell?” she said finally when there was a break in the whooping and clapping.
Bren put a hand on her arm, beaming. “The point of that flight is for you to learn that you can trust the equipment, your dragon, and Ronen’s orders. Trust me, you proved that no trouble.”
“Congratulations, my Lady Flameborne,” Ronen said with a chuckle. “Welcome to the squad.”
Koa and Kham bugled, echoed immediately by the others.
My brothers closed in tighter around her, and I was torn—half of me wanting to reach between them to tear her out from under their gazes, the other screaming at me to leave her there and let her enjoy the moment.
She kept asking for affirmation, and when Ronen gave it, she threw her arms around Bren and the two of them hugged and bounced on their toes together.
I didn’t have the heart to remind her that they shouldn’t.
Maybe it was fine?
I took another step back—away from my brothers, and Grace, and that thought. Then another. Until I stood in the shadow of my dragon, who whistled with the others, but kept turning his head to check on me as well.
‘I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt. I’m just…’
Kham crooned, but didn’t send words. Eventually, Ronen called us to attend and everyone went quiet.
“Pretty sure that’s the shortest Acknowledgement flight in our history. But regardless, it means we can be early to lunch. Let’s go eat.”
Of course, my brothers all cheered at that too.
Ronen smiled at Grace and opened an arm, urging her to walk ahead.
Bren hooked arms with her and both of them started across the meadow.
The view of Grace dried the roof of my mouth—the laced vest hollowing her back, leathers tight on her ass and clinging to her thighs, her braid half-pulled out by the net and the fall and all the adventures of the morning.
But when she turned her head to look up at Bren, Bren beamed back at her.
I took another step back.
“Come on, Voski.” The deep voice was quiet.
I blinked and jerked to look at Ronen, standing there, arms folded, tipping his head in the direction the others were all walking.
“It was a shock. She’s fine. I’ll make sure she sees a healer after she eats—she probably needs the food more than anything else. ”
I nodded, but had to clear my throat before I could speak. “I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care. You’ve had a shock, too. You come to lunch, and you congratulate our new sister, and when everyone scatters, then you can go.”
I wanted to argue, but the look in Ronen’s eyes made it clear if I did, we were going to have a problem. And I found I didn’t have the energy.
I was suddenly as limp and deflated as an old wine bladder.
Swallowing hard, I patted Kham’s leg. ‘Make sure Koa’s well. Tell me if Grace is hiding any pain.’ Dragons were usually loath to admit hurts, and I imagined the wild ones had instincts to obscure injury.
‘You’re a good man, Voski,’ Kham sent softly. ‘I’ll watch for my mate. You watch for yours.’
I gritted my teeth as I walked after the others, but I kept my paces slow. And no one noticed that I was several feet behind the rest of them.
No one, except Ronen, who kept glancing back over his shoulder. And when we stepped into the shadows of the wood between this clearing and the Academy, he slowed his pace to fall in step with me.
My hackles rose, but he didn’t speak immediately. He waited until I’d begun to hope he wouldn’t speak at all.
Fucker.
“You ready to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked quietly, under the noise of my brothers chatting and teasing ahead.
“I did tell you, I’m just spent,” I muttered. “Mission was difficult, and the travel extensive. I just need time with silence and no fucking near-death experiences.”
Ronen’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately, just walked at my side with his hands in his pockets. Then he sighed. “Eat with us. We need a show of unity,” he said reluctantly. “Then you’re free until tomorrow night. Take the time. But make sure your dragon can reach you.”
“I will.”
Ronen knew Gil and I had built a sanctuary near the Keep, but he’d never asked us where it was, just made certain the dragons could find us if it was needed.
His mouth opened slightly, like he intended to say something, but then he closed it again and just clapped me on the back, before picking up his pace to catch the others.
I was grateful. For a time.
I frowned as I watched my brothers hover over Grace—she was so short, she disappeared behind them until all I caught was glimpses of her golden hair here and there between their broad backs.
I should have been pleased she was surrounded. She’d shown incredible courage. She’d also almost killed herself. My face ached in sympathy of that blow to her nose.
Holy shit.
I prayed we’d both live through this. Because I felt ten years older in an hour.
How the hell was I going to make it through her training?