A roar shattered the silence, reverberating through my bones and chest.
Kaspar’s fingers dug deeper into my shoulders, his entire body jolting against mine. “Max?!” His voice cracked with panic.
I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in my chest. The pure joy of this moment—suspended beneath the ship with Kaspar in my arms while witnessing one of the rarest sights in all the skies—was almost too much to contain.
“Yes,yes,that’s a dragon!” I confirmed, unable to hide my own childlike excitement.
“You’re joking. You have to be—”
Suddenly, the flash of red appeared again, closer this time. The massive creature broke through a cloud bank not fifty yards away, its scales catching the morning light like thousands of rubies. The wind from its powerful wings buffeted us, causing our tether to sway dramatically.
But there was something else—a smaller flick of red tail trailing behind the massive beast.
Kaspar’s jaw dropped, his eyes growing impossibly wider. “IS THAT A FREAKINGBABYDRAGON?!MAX?!”
I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. In all my years of flying, I’d never seen a juvenile dragon. They were notoriously protected by their mothers, hidden away in mountain nests until nearly full-grown.
We watched, spellbound, as the baby dragon—still around the size of a third of our ship—flew side by side with its mother. It nuzzled against her massive neck, its movements playful and awkward compared to the adult’s graceful power. The mother dragon rumbled something that sounded almost like a purr, her long neck curving protectively around her offspring.
Then, to my astonishment, the baby dragon’s head swiveled in our direction. Its eyes—gleaming like polished amber—fixed on us with unmistakable curiosity. Its snout wrinkled, and a small puff of smoke snorted from its nostrils. The corners of its mouth seemed to curl upward in what looked remarkably like a grin, as if it were saying hello.
Kaspar, apparently recovered from his initial shock, lifted one trembling hand from my shoulder and waved at the creature.
The mother dragon’s massive wings caught an updraft. The baby dragon chirped—a sound somewhere between a thunderclap and a bell—and with one last curious glance in our direction, followed its mother. They disappeared into a distant cloud bank, leaving nothing but ripples in the mist to prove they’d been there at all.
Kaspar stared after them, his mouth still hanging open in shock. Then, as if a dam had broken, words tumbled out of him in a breathless rush.
“Holy freaking phoenix tails, goblin toes, and everything else! Max! Did you just see that? A dragon! A real, actual dragon! And a baby one! It looked right at us! Itsmiledat us!” His hands fluttered wildly, nearly smacking me in the face. “This is—this is the most incredible thing I’ve ever—I can’t believe—”
His eyes were wide, pupils dilated with wonder, cheeks flushed pink from the wind and excitement. He clutched at my shoulders, shaking me slightly.
“I can’t wait to tell Cody about this! He’ll never believe me! I’ll have to draw it for him—though I’ll never get the colors right. Those scales! Like living fire! And the way it moved—like it owned the sky!”
He was vibrating against me, his entire body humming with energy. His face glowed with a joy so pure it radiated through my soul.
“Thank you,” he said on a heavy breath, one of his hands squeezing the nape of my neck. “Thank you for this. For making me come out here. For showing me—” He gestured wildly at the endless sky around us. “All of this. I never knew… I never imagined…”
I watched his lips form words that washed over me like waves, barely registering their meaning. All I could focus on was the light in his eyes, the curve of his smile, the way the morning sun caught in his copper hair, the galaxy of freckles dancing mere inches from my face.
My hands moved of their own accord, reaching up to frame his face. His skin was cool from the wind, soft beneath my fingers. His words faltered, trailing into silence as our eyes locked.
The air between us crackled with possibility.
I leaned forward, drawn by something stronger than gravity, and pressed my lips to his.
Kaspar’s mouth opened with a soft little gasp of surprise, and he fell utterly still against me. For one heart-stopping moment, I feared I’d misread everything, that I’d shattered whatever delicate thing had been growing between us. But then his lips softened, melting against mine with a quiet sigh that I felt more than heard.
His hand gripped my shoulder and slid upward to my neck. His fingers threaded through my hair, cradling the back of my head with unexpected tenderness.
I pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. His eyes remained closed, lips still slightly parted, the ghost of our kiss lingering there. When his lashes finally fluttered open, his gaze was dazed, pupils wide and dark against the green of his irises.
“I—” he began, then stopped, a flush spreading across his freckled cheeks. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I was hoping you’d do that.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. “I was hoping I’d do that too.”
The wind caught his hair, sending it dancing around his face. I reached up to tuck a strand behind his ear, letting my fingers trail along the curve of his jaw.
“Do it again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rushing air. His eyes held mine, vulnerable yet certain.
