“Want to play?” I whispered. This power was only supposed to work with nullification spells, but there was no harm in trying. If I didn’t take chances, I’d never find a better path to follow. “Come closer, little one. Aren’t you pretty? So beautiful.”
It paused, lifting one end, a shy creature tasting the air.
“I have a nice little task for you,” I said.
With a jerk, it drifted my way, coming near enough I could reach out and stroke my fingertip along it’s “spine”.
“You aregorgeous. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen power as beautiful or amazing as you. But it’s more than just the way your bits of lavender infuse your lovely silver shape; it’s what shines from inside you that I adore the most.”
It coiled around my wrist and lifted its tip, gliding it near enough to touch my nose.
“Would you help me flit? I seem to have—” Yeah, I wasn’t telling it the damn spell worked less than half the time I tried. “I want to ride a dragon and a mean fae man is trying to pen me inside this dusty tack room. You understand what it’s like to have someone hold you back, don’t you? Like me, all you want to do is shine.”
Its “body” sucked in a breath, expanding, before it darted at my face in a strike.
When I gasped, it flung itself down my throat.
Coughing and gagging, I tried to retch it back out. But it kept going, seeping through me, warming me.
With a shiver, I commanded a flit.
And my bodymoved.
A blink, and I stood outside the dragon’s pen I’d almost opened. Surren and my full guard stood farther down the hall, leaning against the tack room door, ringed by guards who whispered to each other, none noticing me watching them yet.
My shaky laugh broke free, though I kept it low. By some miracle—or sheer stubbornness—I was able to flit.
I wasn’t going to think about the power forcing itself inside me.
Not wasting precious time, I cracked open the gate and slipped into the pen, moving quietly despite the excitement thrumming under my skin. Leather and metal creaked as I adjusted the saddlestill slung over my arm, my muscles burning from the care it took to move without making a sound.
Despite my worry about what swallowing power might mean, I’d flitted myself free. Time to do something about it.
Should I try again to flit to the pier?
No, I’d battled on dragonback from the time I’d received my first real sword, and if I was going to fight creatures the size of a shed, I’d do so from the back of a beast of equal size.
After carefully shutting the gate, I turned.
The air crackled with heat. A dragon shifted in the shadows, its massive tail scraping against the stone wall as it adjusted its body. The faint ripple in my chest grew stronger, matching the tempo of its breathing.
My inhalations went shallow.
The dragon’s head snapped toward me, its molten amber eyes locking onto mine. Its gaze carried an ancient intelligence, and it pinned me in place as if testing whether I was worthy to stand in its presence.
It must’ve decided I wasn’t.
It sucked in a deep breath and blasted fire my way.
34
Reyla
Idove to the side, rolling to come up near the mesh keeping the beast from escaping out into the enormous valley below.
“Now, now, stop that,” a soft female voice chided from inside the stall. “No need to scorch the inside of your gate.” I couldn’t see her, not with the glaring beast between her and me.
The gorgeous, gleaming, burnished red dragon stomped into the middle of the pen and stopped while the stable hand moved along with it, revealing herself placidly grooming at its side. Sunlight filtering through the high, open windows played across its scales in a deep crimson glow, as if molten fire pulsed beneath its hide. Each scale was perfectly polished, overlapping like intricate, armored tiles designed for beauty and battle alike. Its massive chest rose and fell with low, rumbling breaths, and steamhuffed from its nostrils with every exhale. The smoke curled upward, a warning to anyone daring to test it.
