“Again,” I gasped, barely audible over the wind.
“What was that?”
“Again,” I shouted, throwing my head back to laugh at the sky. “Do it again.”
Kaelen’s rumble of approval vibrated through me.“Now you’re getting it.”
What followed was an hour of the most terrifying, exhilarating, absolutely insane education I’d ever received. Kaelen seemed determined to test every possible way the saddle could keep me attached to his back—sharp turns, sudden climbs, rolls that left me dizzy and breathless and begging for more.
I only fell off twice.
The first was during a barrel roll that I completely misjudged, my body sliding right out of the saddle despite my death grip on the handles. Kaelen caught me with his wing and deposited me back in place with a comment about“the importance of proper harness adjustment.”
I’d grumbled a curse as I fumbled with leather straps I’d somehow missed entirely.
The second time was when he decided to fly upside down without warning, leaving me hanging from the inverted saddle like some sort of demented bat until he flipped us right-side up again.
“You could have warned me,” I’d gasped as I worked feeling back into my fingers.
“Where would be the learning in that?”
But after that, with the harness properly secured and my grip adjusted to work with the saddle instead of against it, I started to get the hang of it. Really get the hang of it.
We were racing Brynelle and her dragon through a series of cloud formations, weaving between towering pillars of vapor like some sort of aerial obstacle course. I could feel Kaelen’s movements before he made them now, could shift my weight to match his turns, could actually enjoy the ride instead of just surviving it.
That’s when Brynelle called out a challenge I couldn’t hear but Kaelen definitely could.
“Hold on, wildfire,”he warned, but there was something different in his voice, predatory and pleased.“This might be interesting.”
He dove again, but this time it wasn’t the playful plummet from before. This was a controlled fall that turned into a spiral, which became a series of loops that defied every law of physics I thought I understood.
The world spun around us in impossible patterns. Sky became earth became sky again, clouds whipping past us like ghostly fingers, the other dragons wheeling around us in formations that looked more like aerial ballet than simple flying.
Through every twist and turn, every heart-stopping manoeuvre, I stayed secured in the saddle like I’d been born there. My body moved with Kaelen’s, anticipating his movements, becoming part of the dance instead of fighting against it.
When we finally levelled out, both of us breathing hard from the exertion, I realised I was grinning so wide my face hurt.
“Not bad for a beginner,”Kaelen said, and I could hear the satisfaction.“You might actually survive this partnership.”
“Partnership?” I asked, the word catching in my chest. “Is that what this is?”
“Among other things.”His tone had shifted slightly, becoming more serious.“The Yvaelth—the bond between us—it’s more than just being able to hear each other’s thoughts.”
I settled more comfortably in the saddle as we glided through a patch of particularly soft-looking clouds. The leather was perfectly fitted, melding to my body in ways that made flying feel natural instead of terrifying. The others were nearby but giving us space, their dragons wheeling in lazy circles while Kaelen and I talked.
“What does it mean, exactly? The bond?” I asked. “Is there a catch? Some sort of price I don’t know about yet?”
Kaelen’s laughter rolled through my mind like distant thunder.“Always looking for the trap, aren’t you? No catch, wildfire. No price beyond what you’re already paying.”
“Which is?”
“Your freedom to walk away.”His words carried a note of regret.“The Yvaelth isn’t something you can break once it’s formed. We’re connected now, you and I. That connection will only grow stronger with time.”
I considered this, watching the landscape roll by beneath us like a living map. The idea of being permanently bound to anything should have terrified me. I’d spent too many months running from chains of every description to welcome new ones.
But this didn’t feel like a chain. It felt like wings.
“What else?” I asked, because there was something in his explanation that suggested more complications ahead.
