“Fine,” I said, my voice nearly lost to the wind. “You want honesty? Here’s some. I have no fucking idea how to fly a dragon, everything in my life is a disaster, and the one person who makes me feel like I might not be completely broken is the same person I can’t be around without wanting to either murder him or?—”
I stopped. Swallowed hard.
“Or?”Kaelen prompted, entirely too smug.
“Or nothing. Teach me to fly before I change my mind and set you on fire.”
His laughter rumbled through his entire body, vibrating into my bones.“Now that’s the spirit. Hold on, wildfire. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
The world tilted.
One moment we were level, the next Kaelen folded his wings and dropped. My stomach stayed somewhere in the clouds as we plummeted, wind turning into a knife that wanted to peel me off his back. I should have screamed. Should have dug my fingers into his scales and prayed to gods I didn’t believe in. Instead, something wild and vicious tore loose in my chest—and I laughed.
The sound ripped out of me, raw and unhinged, swallowed immediately by the roar of air. We were falling so fast the world blurred into streaks of green and brown, and it felt like finally,finally letting go of something I’d been clutching too tight for too long.
The handles were a revelation. Instead of clinging desperately to Kaelen’s neck, I could actually sit up, could look around, could experience the flight instead of just surviving it.
“Still there, wildfire?”The dragon’s laughter rumbled through my bones.
“Still here,” I called back, and for the first time, I actually meant it. “This is incredible.”
Around us, the other dragons soared, their riders sitting tall and confident like they’d been born to the sky. Brynelle waved at me, one hand casually leaving her own saddle handles to gesture while they banked through a turn that should have been impossible.
“Don’t compare yourself to them,”Kaelen advised, his flight evening out into a pattern that felt more like floating than falling.“They’ve been doing this for centuries. You’ve been doing it for approximately thirty seconds.”
“Forty seconds,” I corrected, finally brave enough to really look around. “And I think these handles deserve most of the credit.”
The view stole what little breath I had left.
We soared above Edrithas, the castle spread below us in miniature splendour. Gardens became geometric patterns, courtyards turned to postage stamps, and people moved like ants along pathways that from up here looked no wider than threads.
But it wasn’t just the castle. Beyond its walls stretched forests and rivers, mountains that rose like ancient sentinels against the horizon, and valleys painted in shades of green I didn’t have names for. The world was vast and wild and beautiful.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?”Kaelen’s voice was gentler now, tinged with a reverence that came from seeing this view thousands of times and never growing tired of it.
“It’s...” I struggled for words, then gave up. “How do you ever come back down?”
“Very carefully, in your case. Speaking of which?—”
Kaelen banked to the right without warning, the movement so sudden and graceful that even with the saddle, I felt my body slide sideways. My grip on the handles tightened instinctively, knuckles white with effort as I fought to stay centred.
“Second rule of dragon flying,”he said conversationally as I hauled myself back into proper position.“Never trust your dragon not to be an ass.”
“Noted,” I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Any other wisdom you’d like to share before trying to kill me again?”
“Oh, many things. But where’s the fun in telling you when I can demonstrate instead?”
This time I was ready when he dove.
The world became a blur of speed and wind and the wild exhilaration of falling with purpose. My stomach dropped to somewhere near my boots, but instead of terror, I felt something else entirely—joy, bright and fierce and absolutely intoxicating.
The handles let me lean into the dive instead of fighting it, let me feel like I was part of the dragon’s movement instead of just cargo along for the ride. When Kaelen rolled to the left, I rolled with him. When he pulled into a harsh climb, I was already shifting my weight to match.
I laughed.
The sound ripped from my throat without permission, wild and free and completely unhinged. We plummeted toward the earth like a green comet, wind screaming past us, and I laughed until my sides ached and tears streamed from my eyes.
At the last possible second, Kaelen’s wings caught the air and we pulled out of the dive in a sweeping arc that sent us soaring back toward the clouds. The g-forces pressed me deep into the saddle, but the sturdy construction held, kept me secure even as my vision grayed at the edges.
