Okay. I try again. “Sevrin, you should know that the king,without ordering it, justrequestingit, would like us to return alone to Elarwyn when the celebration is complete.”
“Alone?” He lifts a brow.
“He would like you to come alone to sign the peace treaty and to have our marriage ceremony.”
“Would King Stormvale really allow a bone wyrm within the walls of his city?”
“Do you… need him close to you?”
He shakes his head. “Bone wyrm are not like dragons. They’re not living, breathing things. My magic can keep mine ‘alive,’ even from a great distance. He will basically explore and behave like a dragon, but will return to me if I call him to me at any point. It’s not really living, exactly, but it’s what you would expect from the undead.”
What am I supposed to say to that?
I hesitate, then decide to just say it. “That works out well then, because the king would like you to ride on the back of Ebron with me.”
His mouth pulls into a thin line. “Everything your king asks of me puts me in a vulnerable position and gives him all the power.”
He’s not wrong. “Peace requires a certain amount of trust. Me coming here gave you all the power and put me in a vulnerable position, yet I came, because peace is bigger than you or I.”
“True,” he agrees, and there’s a flicker of something, maybe respect. “And how does Ebron feel about flying with me on his back? To my knowledge, no Hollowborn has ever flown on the back of a dragon. No time in history.”
He’s right. “I’ll ask him.”
“Askhim?” he questions.
I study the Hollowborn. “Well, how do you communicate with your bone wrym?”
“We don’t. They just… know what we want.”
Interesting.
“Well, that’s not how it works with Ebron.”
His eagle eyes watch me carefully, as if he’s trying to determine the secret behind my ability to communicate with Ebron. It’s unsettling, but I understand it. Every story, every rumor, suggests that the Hollowborn want their own dragons more than anything else in this world. Anything that involves Ebron will likely fascinate him.
I turn to communicate with Ebron when I see a Hollowborn get too close to Ebron. The man looks like he wants to touch Ebron. My dragon rears back from him, and fire leaps into the sky. Tension sings through the clearing, and the bone wyrms’ bones clack as they shift and move around us. The Hollowborn’s music stops, and everybody shifts into defensive positions.
Ebron is angry, ready for a fight, and I climb to my feet and come close to him. Carefully, I set my hand on his side and stroke his scales.
It’s okay. We’re okay.
Are we? Our enemies are everywhere, and we sit and drink with them.
I understand this is strange. This is strange for me too. As soon as they’re done, we’ll go. But, and this is something I should’ve thought about, we’ll have to take my new mate back with us. He’ll have to ride on you.
No.
Ebron–
I do not want another rider on my back. It feels… wrong. Unnatural.
I will still be your rider. He’ll be like the saddle. Just cargo to take with us.
No.
I release a slow breath.We’re trying to create peace between the two groups. Not just to stop the killing and war, but to bring about more male dragons. They know the secret of why none are being born. The dragon race will die out if we don’t do this.
He’s quiet for so long that I think he might never answer, when he says,I will take the Hollowborn. Him alone. And if he upsets me, I will toss him into the ocean and watch him die.
