Chapter Sixteen #2
Daire nodded his wedge-shaped head, glittering amber eyes with their vertical pupils averted. That wouldn’t do. Jimryr wrapped his arms around the softer scales of Daire’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent of dragon. “I stand by what I said. You’re beautiful.”
Daire snorted again but sounded less disbelieving. Maybe even pleased.
Jimryr stepped back. “Are you ready?”
Daire paused for several nerve-wracking moments before nodding.
Jimryr retreated a few yards, sank to all fours, and focused on the part of him usually kept hidden.
Tingling began in his back as his body shifted, arms becoming legs, neck elongating, wings sprouting from his back.
An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him at being whole again. Being a dragon again.
What would Daire think?
Daire sat back on his haunches, a stunned look on his dragon face. Better than many people’s reactions.
The dragon tattoos Jimryr wore in human form created patterns on his wings, body, and legs.
To anyone else, they probably seemed like someone’s fantasies.
Every one told a story. Jimryr’s escape the day his family died.
Flying with his family. Play-fighting with his brother.
The largest on his back detailed the battle when Daire lost his friend.
History worn upon a body. Many of the DeKalb Dragons wore similar stories.
Jimryr hoped Daire wouldn’t recognize himself in the imagery.
He’d never met another beta to match him for size.
He’d only met one alpha to even come close.
Jimryr’s bulk gave him advantages, but disadvantages as well.
He could fly longer and farther than his peers, but stamina cost him maneuverability.
Therefore, the assortment of unaffiliated dragons he flew with often used him to transport equipment when they moved, a glorified pack mule.
But Daire must recognize the truth of Jimryr’s earlier words—he could bear Daire’s weight easily on his back.
He nudged Daire toward the cliff. Please let him trust me, for that’s what we need most of all right now.
Jimryr launched himself from the ledge, flapping his wings and flying a quick circle over the valley below, checking for signs of anyone else or contrary air currents.
He sensed no one. He flew back toward Daire, hovering below the cliff.
Daire flapped his wings a few times, stopped, then tried again. Those poor, abused wings. Jimryr wanted to find whoever caused the damage for a little payback. Payback wouldn’t help Daire, though. Patience would.
It would still be satisfying to make the damned alpha pay for breaking dragon law.
Twice more, Daire flapped his wings, then stopped. He said he’d been building the muscles through physical therapy. Flying would put much more pressure on seldom-used body parts.
Finally, muscles bunched in Daire’s powerful thighs.
He threw himself over the ledge and…down, down, down.
No! Jimryr swooped, putting himself between Daire and the ground.
About the time he flew into position, Daire opened both wings fully, caught an updraft, and soared, gliding on air currents.
Hard to miss his hum of satisfaction. He really could fly again.
They kept to simple maneuvers, floating on the breeze, letting the air currents guide them. The wind shifted, unbalancing Daire. He rolled and flapped his wings but faltered in his panic.
Jimryr swooped beneath him, spreading his too-large wings, keeping pace with the flailing dragon.
Daire’s belly connected with Jimryr’s back, and his legs came around, gripping tightly, but not too tight, and not blocking Jimryr’s wings. Someone had taught him well.
The gesture brought to mind a mating flight, something Jimryr had never experienced before. Could he have such an intimate connection with Daire?
Any other dragon might have to land—but not Jimryr. He banked to the left. Daire leaned with him, then to the right, with the same result. Like with a fledgling, Jimryr performed the motions needed for flying, how to bank, how to handle shifting winds.
Daire gradually loosened his hold, spread his wings again, and lifted off Jimryr’s back. Jimryr stayed below, ready to catch Daire if he fell, just as Father once had for him.
How good to be flying again! He wanted to release a gout of flame but couldn’t risk what the reminder of an old battle might do to Daire.
He drifted, then reminded himself of Daire’s condition. Banking in tandem, Daire once more landed gently on Jimryr’s back while Jimryr fought headwinds back to their cliff.
More than the exhilaration of flying, the exhilaration of being trusted so implicitly filled him with pride. He pulled back, allowing Daire to land first, then dropped beside him, sending fallen leaves and small stones skittering over the cliff.
Daire shifted to human form, making quick work of diving into his blanket, and collapsed onto the ground, panting but grinning. “I flew! I’ll feel every sore muscle tomorrow, but I flew.”
Jimryr let the change roll through him, wincing as his wings and tail folded back into his body. He scrambled into his blanket and lay down beside Daire. “Yes, you did. See, I told you.”
A bit of the old self-doubt crept into Daire’s words. “I’d have fallen if not for you.”
“You can’t be sure of that. And I’m glad my huge, unwieldy self could be of service.” Jimryr mimicked a human-style salute he’d seen in a movie.
“It shows you’ve done this before.”
Jimryr nodded, bad memories threatening the light-hearted moment.
“Because of my size and speed, or lack thereof, I’ve taught several fledglings to fly.
” Or helped rehabilitate injured dragons.
He wouldn’t add the part about most of those fledglings now being long-dead.
Daire hadn’t grown up fighting for survival.
Jimryr wouldn’t burden him with grief now.
Daire rolled, facing Jimryr. “Thank you.”
“You did all the work.”
“But I’d never have tried if you hadn’t been so sure of me.”
Jimryr tucked a lock of soft hair behind Daire’s ear. “I’ll always believe in you.”
Daire kissed him, long and languorous. They extinguished the fire and retreated to the cabin to make slow, passionate love, Jimryr reveling in life and the man in his arms.
He’d forgotten all about his earlier desire to show Daire the Northern Lights.