Lucien wraps an arm around his neck. “It’s partially because we trust you, and partially because we know we can kick your ass if you try to screw us over.”
“Ah, so sweet,” I say.
Alaric laughs, grabs me, and tosses me over his shoulder as a squeal tears from my lips. Our grinning group heads down the hall, knowing we only have a week before our big adventure across the water. Where, I hope, everything goes according to plan.
Because the alternative would ruin everything.
17
Alaric
I always forgethow alive a dragon feels beneath me until we’re airborne, slicing through sun and ice and wind. Even after years of training, flying Nythera never gets old. Each flap of her wings vibrates through my bones, rumbling in my chest like a second heartbeat. At this moment, we’re both more ourselves than we ever are on the ground. The world falls away, the castle, court, politics, arguments with my brothers, until it’s just us and the blue, and the wild, whipping air.
Nythera angles her wings, bringing us level with Gareth and his brawny Sylvara. Gareth gives a lopsided grin, his long, black hair already a mess despite the oil he slicked through it this morning.
“What, you scared of a little altitude, Alaric?” he shouts across the void, like we’re not four thousand feet above the ground.
“Scared you’ll end up with a bird in your mouth?” I yell back, grinning.
A third shape streaks past in a blur of gold. Lucien, as always, has to one-up us. He’s hunched low, almost flush to Verdraxa’s back, hands dug deep in the golden dragon’s shimmering scales. “Maybe if you stopped talking,” Lucien calls, “you’d actually fly straight.”
I flip him the bird, and my brother laughs, the sound almost lost to the wind.
Beneath us, there’s nothing but water, just like there has been for nearly a day. Clouds streak the sky in strange, thin sheets, like strokes from an artist’s brush. Up ahead, a colorful shape rises out of the ocean: the Island of Dragons, our destination.
A jolt of anticipation runs through me. It’s been, what, five years since I was here last? Enough time that I’ve forgotten things about it, but not so long that I’ve forgotten how beautiful the fantastical place is.
“It’s just up ahead!” I shout, pointing to the island.
“Finally!” Gareth hollers, and Sylvara increases her speed, just a little bit.
A fourth dragon drops from the sky above us. Ebron, the massive, dusk-colored brute who looks like he was stitched together from the spare parts of nightmares. Harper is riding on his back, grinning like a madwoman.
She looks every bit a goddess, even in her riding leathers, taking my breath away as the sunlight turns her blonde hair into a halo. She’s got Sevrin behind her, clinging like a barnacle. I’d be more pissed about that if I didn’t know Sevrin would gladly throw himself into a volcano before hurting her. Still. He’s got his arms wrapped tight around her waist, chin practically nuzzling her shoulder.
Maybe I can ride back with her.
I fight a little stab of jealousy, reminding myself that this is the deal. We’re in this together, even if sometimes together feelsa lot like a competition. She cares for us all. She’s made that clear. That has to be enough for me.
Nythera draws even with Ebron. Ebron cocks his head, showing off a mouthful of knife-like teeth, and for a second I swear the dragon is grinning at me. Harper’s eyes find mine, and something in my chest clenches. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until just now. The past week, ever since everything changed, since she picked me and then picked us all, and then we stood side by side in that quadruple wedding that feels half-dreamed, I’ve just wanted to be close to her. I want to show her I’m the kind of man that she deserves. That I can be a good husband.
It should be complicated. Four men, one incredible woman, all bonded in a way that should mean forever. But when she smiles, it’s easy. I’d chase her to the edge of the world for that smile.
The island comes up faster, until it’s nearly beneath us.
Harper lifts one hand, the signal we practiced. The dragons draw into a tighter formation, wings overlapping, tails trailing like comet-streamers. She angles Ebron downward. The rest of us follow.
“Don’t let Gareth get too close,” Lucien calls, “he’ll crash into us again.”
Gareth glances back, lifting a brow.
The air gets warmer as we descend. Salt spray flings itself upward in gusts. Below us, the ocean glitters like diamonds. The island has colorful hills, ragged peaks, and waterfalls plummeting off of cliffs into frothing surf. The sky above is stippled with hundreds of dragons all drifting about, safe from any imaginable predator. People sometimes think dragon riders exaggerate about the beauty of this place, but if anything, we can’t quite capture how incredible it is. There’s every color you can imagine, and plenty you can’t, all in a small space.
“It’s beautiful!” Harper laughs, a bright, open sound, and the tension in my shoulders drops away. “Ready for this?” she calls.
Sevrin actually smiles. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
We circle the island once, then head for the wide, grassy plateau at its heart. Dragons scatter at our approach, some diving into the trees, others hovering with blatant curiosity. Nythera huffs, offended by the attention, and flares her wings. She’s always had a bit of an attitude with the other female dragons.
