Chapter forty-four
Wakeup,pet.TheGreat Phoenix approaches.Kaelith’s voice drifted through her mind.
Rynna peeked an eye open to the pale light of dawn bleeding slowly across the sky, streaks of orange and purple chasing the last remnants of night. The cold bite of the early morning rushed past her face, carrying with it the scent of dew-soaked trees and damp earth below.
Air shuddered with every powerful sweep of the eagle’s wings as it carried them forward.
She hadn’t realized how tired she’d been. Not long after they’d climbed onto the eagle’s back and taken off, sleep had pulled her under like a tide. The screaming within had dulled, reduced to a low, persistent hum beneath her ribs—still there, but no longer clawing for control.
Kaelith’s fingers slid through her hair in slow, absent motions as her head rested in his lap. It was like two weeks ago, though; this time, she didn’t mind the touch. It felt safe. Familiar.
Her gaze lifted, past where Taren crouched over his large sword, oiling the edges, to where Fenn sat with the eagle’s rider near the creature’s neck. His back was straight, shoulders locked with tension. One hand rested near the blades sheathed at his side.
Rynna bit down on the inside of her cheek. He hadn’t looked at her once since they’d taken off.
Was he angry? Or…did he regret his decision?
As if sensing her stare, Fenn glanced over his shoulder, the wind tugging strands of crimson-tipped hair across his face. For a moment, his eyes softened—just barely—but it was enough. The line of his shoulders eased, and he dipped his chin in something between a nod and an apology.
Rynna exhaled slowly, releasing some of the stiffness in her frame. She held his gaze for a beat longer before he turned back to the horizon, spine still straight but no longer rigid.
For now, that was enough.
“I can’t believe we’re already here.” She stretched her arms and sat up, her muscles protesting the long flight.
As she twisted, her hand braced lightly on Kaelith’s thigh for balance, and without thinking, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. The man stilled, his eyes flicking toward her as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. But he didn’t speak, just let his hand settle on her back, fingers splaying there in quiet possession.
“Greer here is the fastest eagle in the nest,” the rider called back. “You’re lucky she agreed to carry you.”
“You’re awfully energized after a full night of flying,” Taren groaned from beside them, his voice rough as he pushed himself up.
“There’s just something about the wind in your hair,” the rider replied. His eyes sparkled with genuine excitement as the eagle let out a screech. “Looks like you’re all about to be picked up. What I wouldn’t give for a ride from the Great Phoenix herself!”
Kaelith leaned forward, raising his voice over a sudden gust of wind. “And how exactly is that supposed to—”
His words were stolen by the roar of air as the skyline warped ahead, folding in on itself with a low, resonant hum.
“Scared?” Rynna smiled, dragging him to the front near Fenn, who slipped his hand behind her neck as he stared ahead.
“Of course not,” Kaelith scoffed, though he didn’t let go of her. “Can’t be worse than that void-spun Waygate trip.”
Then the world ignited.
The sky tore open with a blast of heat and sound, and the Great Phoenix dropped through the rupture like a meteor on fire. Wings of flame unfurled wide, each beat sending a shockwave through the air. Its body wasn’t flying. It wasburning forward, alive withmolten grace. Rynna felt every hair on her arms rise, its presence pulling the air from her lungs.
The eagle shrieked beneath them and adjusted course as if bowing as the Phoenix passed overhead. And on its enormous back, a familiar figure stood tall, red hair blazing.
“Is that…Bran?” Rynna asked, then squinted, catching sight of a yellow-haired woman clinging to his back. “And Elara?”
A small, relieved laugh escaped her, and she lifted her hand, waving eagerly.
“Looks like Fang Unit is finally back together.” Fenn leaned into her.
Taren stepped up beside him, their shoulders nearly touching, a rare stillness settling over him as he watched the approaching figures.
Kaelith, ever the pragmatist, cleared his throat, cutting through the reverie. “As epic as this is—and I get it, very nostalgic and all that—but my question remains. How exactly are we supposed to…I don’t know, climb aboard?”
“I think you just stand there, and she’ll swoop in and grab you.” The rider scratched his head. “Sorry, but the accounts from the northern front weren’t very clear on how it works.”
