36. Tooth and Claw #2
My stomach dropped as a memory of Lukas surfaced, the two of us standing outside the morning room after we’d learned of the dragon delegation's arrival. I’d been so nervous to meet my new Talon, and Lukas’s comforting presence had been enough to calm me.
How drastically things had changed.
Trygg slapped Corbyn’s side with a hollow thump and then turned away, the air around him shimmering and rippling wildly.
Then I was thrown forward by Corbyn shifting his weight and lost sight of him.
A sharp ache pricked at my chest, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.
The wave of hot air coming from behind me was my only warning to duck out of the way.
I attempted to flatten myself on Corbyn’s back as I looked and saw a jet of flame hurtling toward us, but my movements were made awkward by the uneven tilt of his shoulders.
One of his wings snapped up, shielding me from the blaze.
He roared as the flames licked over the delicate membranes of his wing, singeing them in places.
I couldn’t see him, but still, I knew… Lukas.
Corbyn lashed out his tail like a whip and the fire ceased to burn. A rumble in his chest vibrated all the way through me, shaking the floor. He released the sound in a bone-shuddering roar and then crouched, sinking low as his wings tensed.
As he went down, I barely caught a glimpse of the figures on the floor in front of us, scrambling over their broken barricade. Vilke’s eyes met mine for a fraction of a moment. The trembling, shuddering rage in her gaze sent a jolt of fear through my chest.
Hold on, the Shadow groaned, as if she too couldn’t believe we were actually doing this.
Flying with Trygg in half-Shift had been one thing. This was something else entirely.
The pure power that rippled down Corbyn’s scaled body had me scrambling to keep my grip.
His muscles exploded beneath me, vaulting us into the air with breathtaking speed.
The sound of his wings fighting against gravity with all their might drowned everything out.
A torrent of glass, dust, and debris rose up in the wake of his downdraft, scattering through the throne room alongside two sets of flashing flames.
I cried out, squeezing my eyes shut against the nauseating sight of the ground falling away from us.
But it took only a moment for the heat of the throne room to disappear under the snap of icy night air, and the sounds of chaos fled along with it.
There was only the rush of wind and the buffeting of wings.
More than a few tense, quiet moments passed before I felt strong enough to open my eyes. When I did, the breath stole from my lungs.
The ground seemed miles below us, the lights of the Citadel and Kjarra mere pinpricks upon the black earth. Moonlight filtered through the clouds to illuminate us dimly. It was enough to see the whites of my knuckles where they gripped the neck spike in front of me.
This is insane! I screamed at the Shadow. I tried to find the horizon, but every flap of Corbyn’s wings had the ground rippling like ocean waves.
What else is new!
I grumbled an unintelligible response as I tried to readjust myself.
My legs flailed with each of Corbyn’s movements.
Too bad there was no such thing as a dragon saddle.
I could’ve used one right about now, no matter how inappropriate.
Flying with a dragon prince in half-Shift, and now riding a fully Shifted dragon like a horse?
It seemed I no longer knew the bounds of propriety.
Swallowing down whatever pride I had left, I pulled up on the spike to readjust. My legs straddled either side of Corbyn’s neck, draped over his shoulders in front of his wings.
It took more than a fair bit of effort, but I kept my movements slow as I felt the underside of his scales lifting and pulling at the fabric of my pants.
Corbyn’s head tilted back at my floundering, gold eyes burning bright as the sun in the darkness.
He groaned lightly and swung his massive head forward again.
Something inside me twinged at the sound.
I suddenly wished I could talk to him, the way I could with Trygg.
But when I searched for any hint of a connection, there was nothing—not even a whisper of anything that might allow me to convey thought or emotion.
Asvoria, the Shadow said after a few moments of silence.
I drew in a deep breath, reaching to tuck the tail of my braid into my collar. The biting cold was bad enough without being constantly whipped in the face by my own hair. Without a cloak, it was absolutely freezing up here in the sky.
Where do you think he’s taking us? I asked, unsure what to say. Where to even begin with what happened?
I don’t know, she replied softly. Are you ? —?
No, I cut her off, flinching at the harshness in my own voice. I am not alright. They betrayed me, Shadow.
She was quiet for a long time. As I waited for her to answer, I leaned forward over Corbyn’s neck, trying to use his head to block some of the icy wind.
Yes, she finally said, they betrayed you. Lukas, Vilke, all of them. I can’t begin to imagine why. She paused again, dark, suffocating fury rolling off her. So, what are we going to do about it?
It was my turn to be uncertain. I… I don’t know. I need to speak with the dragons. Perhaps Lenn told them something else while I was in confinement.
The thought of Lenn struck painfully, remembering the look on his face as he realized we’d been backed into a corner.
For reasons I couldn’t fathom, Vilke skewed this situation to her advantage, and Lenn was forced to resort to the only option that could keep me safe.
Even though it hinged on the dragons and their murky loyalties.
Even though he knew it meant he might be left behind, to bear whatever punishment would come his way while I escaped.
I had the sudden urge to retch.
A feeling which only heightened when Corbyn suddenly angled his wings forward, pitching us toward the ground.
I renewed my crushing grip on his neck spike, my body bunching as I tried not to slide off.
The wind roared in my ears and snatched at my hair like tiny, tearing fingers.
Within a few moments, he leveled out again.
On the dark horizon, I caught a glimpse of flashing silver ripples. Several minutes later, when we’d drawn closer, I realized it was water. From what I could make out of its size in the darkness, I guessed it was Lake Bríva. We’d gone due east from the Citadel.
Uneasiness crept through my chest. Four days’ ride east of Kjarra was Geiradlar, the ancestral home of Clan ?asgrin. On the wings of a dragon, it wouldn’t take more than two days to get there.
You don’t think they would rescue you from danger only to deliver you right back into Vilke’s hands, do you? the Shadow asked, doubt trickling through her voice.
Nearly everyone I’ve ever known turned their backs on me, I replied bitterly. Who can I trust anymore?
She had nothing to say to that.
Corbyn circled slowly and tilted his body and wings so that we made a gentle descent to the earth.
When he alighted on the ground, there was only a small shudder, rather than the bone-jarring crash he’d made in the throne room.
Seated precariously upon his back, nothing but the grip of my hands and thighs to keep me here, I was immensely grateful for his care.
He flexed his wings out to the side, the muscles beneath my legs rippling with the action. And then he sat back on his haunches like a cat, tail whipping around to curl at his side. I glanced down the line of his leg. My head spun a bit when I realized I was at least eight feet off the ground.
Well, this will be fun, I thought sourly to no one in particular. The Shadow sighed in answer.
As if sensing my discomfort, Corbyn lifted his leg in the same pose he’d used to shrug me onto his back, providing me with a foothold. I peeked around his neck to find a single golden eye searching my figure. Gods, this was ridiculous.
I swung my leg over his neck, sliding down his shoulder with as much grace as I could manage. But as my feet landed on his crooked elbow, the soles of my boots slipped on the smooth scales.
My arms flailed, grasping at his foreleg to keep from falling. But he shifted at the last second. A well-intentioned attempt at counterbalancing that sent me sprawling on the rocky shore. I cried out as a sharp jolt ran up my spine from my tailbone.
“Gods-dammit!” I swore, rolling onto my side and rubbing at the painful spot.
Nicely done, the Shadow quipped dryly.
I sent her a feeling that I could only describe as scathing and struggled to my feet, sliding on the wet stones.
As if this night hadn’t already gone to shit, now I’d made a fool of myself.
In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter.
But it was easier to ignore the ragged chasm in my heart if I focused on my bruised pride instead.
Finally, I managed to get to my feet, stomping to the edge of the lake as I sucked freezing air into my burning lungs. My head ached painfully, and a sudden wave of nausea hit me. Bending over, I clutched at my stomach as its contents emptied onto the shore.
If only that happened earlier.
Don’t remind me, I snapped, wiping at my mouth with the edge of my tunic.
As I stood up, my head felt a bit clearer.
If only I had thrown up earlier, maybe the drugs they slipped me would’ve worn off quicker.
Maybe I would’ve been able to release the Shadow.
Maybe a lot of things would be different.
Treason.
The word sent a shudder through my bones.
I hugged my arms to my chest, running my hands up and down my biceps to try and shake some warmth into them.
It was a vain effort, and a useless one, as it turned out.
Suddenly, warm air pressed in all around, wavering with a low hum.
The leathery rustling of Corbyn’s wings filled the night. I turned to look.
The ruby dragon, his eyes still boring into me, rippled like a mirage. Scale and spike receded. Talons retracted and tail disappeared. Wings shrank, eyes dimmed, and then Corbyn was standing before me in dark pants and a rough spun shirt. His wings flexed in their smaller form upon his back.
My breath stilled, awed by the sight. How had I ever thought him to be a monster?
He took a few tentative steps forward, gravel crunching beneath his boots. I could see the thoughts swirling in his mind, flitting over his face as he wrestled with them. What could he say? What could I say?
This Shifter—this man … He’d shown more loyalty to me than almost everyone I’d once thought to be my friends and family. This man—whom I’d wronged so terribly, and who’d had enough grace to offer me forgiveness—put his life on the line for me.
Again.
I didn’t understand it.
He came to a stop, searching me up and down with those burnt gold eyes. “My lady…”
That was all it took. The spell was broken.
Whatever strength I’d gained from my panic instantly fled. A choked sob ripped from my throat. Faster than seemed possible, he was right in front of me, strong hands gripping my arms. The Shadow fluttered softly, but it didn’t help.
Something in me had cracked. Something of enough consequence that I didn’t care at all when Corbyn wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into the warmth of his chest. He muttered something in a language I didn’t understand, but the soft rumbling of his voice soothed all the same.
Just comforting enough to quiet the next pathetic sound threatening to come out of me.
“I don’t understand,” I rasped, repeating my thoughts as I turned my cheek against the hard planes of his chest. Only a couple tears leaked from my eyes, far fewer than I was expecting. Nothing about this was right—nothing was normal.
Corbyn drew in a deep breath but made no reply. It didn’t bother me. Were there even any words I would accept as comfort?
My heart and my mind swirled in one confusing mess.
The Shadow was there, attempting to calm my nerves with her rhythmic movements.
Reaching up to wipe away the wetness on my cheeks, I drew away, though no more than a hand’s breadth separated us.
I looked up into his face. Most of his features were lost to the dimness of the cloudy night.
“Thank you.” It seemed the only appropriate thing to say. Yet still completely insufficient.
His brows drew together, eyes still shimmering with flecks of burnt copper light. Dragonsight. He could see me clearly in the darkness, even though I couldn’t do the same. How pathetic I must look to him.
I dropped my gaze, sudden, unwelcome shame blooming on my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. The Shadow continued circling quietly, radiating a soft warmth.
“You…” He paused, chewing on his words.
On instinct, I took a step back.
When he spoke again, his voice was taut with an emotion I couldn’t name. “You do not need to apologize, Vor.”
That cracking feeling in my chest stilled, leaving me speechless. Of course I needed to apologize. It was my fault we were all in this situation— my choices and my urging that led us here. How could he say I had nothing to apologize for?
I attempted to give voice to one or all of these thoughts, but the sudden rustling of wings in the air stopped me. Corbyn turned at the sound, eyes searching the sky. After a few moments, he descended in half-Shift, his black wings melding into the darkness.
“Trygg…”
At the sound of his companion’s name on my lips, Corbyn stiffened.
His golden gaze flashed as he turned back to face me.
Something in those remarkable eyes gave me pause, and I was suddenly reminded of a hushed conversation in a library I was not supposed to overhear.
The intentions of a prince being called into question and a guard’s impassioned declaration that he would not allow any harm to come to me.
A creeping suspicion that this night wasn’t finished serving me misery sank into my bones.