Without a word I clasp her outer thighs to steady her. Heat pounds into me realizing what I’m doing, and memory drags me back to the night in the kitchen again, how these same thighs were wrapped around me.
I clear my throat again and avoid looking straight ahead at her butt. Above, Oria still floats half under Farren’s control. And then she lifts, bats her wings, flies.
Farren cries out in joy. My face hurts with how wide my smile is. She did it. Easily, too.
Farren tips forward a little too far and wobbles. “Farren!” I reach for her hips and tug her back. The momentum drops her into my lap. For a moment I just hug her against my chest, make sure she is securely fastened to me. “Don’t scare me like that.”
She huffs out a laugh. “I wasn’t going to fall.”
“Yeah because I had you. If I wasn’t here though… You’re supposed to try to not need me.”
She turns in the saddle to stare at me, wind whipping her small golden braid. “No, you’re supposed to try to not need me.”
Impossible. Every day that becomes more impossible.
“They did it. They’re all flying. They don’t need us anymore,” Farren whispers, attention turned back on Oria, batting the wind. She rises against the current and flies, awkward and fragile and inspiring. But free. It took the entire day and potentially our lives, if Nity had any say in the matter, but we accomplished our goal.
“Now they’ll be able to leave,” I verify. Relief floods me. They will have a chance to stay happy and free, and never caged.
“Now, they’ll leave,” Farren says softer, emotion cracking her voice. I understand her immediately, the relief mixing with something more heartbreaking. One day soon they will leave and not because they choose to go, but because we will force them out for their own safety.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOURWHEN YOU’RE GIVEN A GIFT
FARREN
Amidst all the worry and tension of our world being broken, Jeffrey and Shelly march forward in unifying their own. The wedding is upon us.
As James and my parents like to remind me, nothing has gone wrong yet. The hatchlings can hide in the tunnels of the caveandthey can fly. All is well… for now. The anxiety of what could happen bites into my nerves. I can’t relax. I can’t stop blaming myself for falling for Mr. Murphy’s trick with the bronze.
But today. Today is Shelly and Jeffrey’s. Today we celebrate.
I spend the morning tucked in Shelly’s cottage with the bride and her two best friends. I shape her new strawberry blonde wig into a crown braid and then delight in weaving flowers into every available spot. Cara’s older cousin and Shelly’s bridesmaid, Beatrice, helps me with my own makeup. It’s what I imagined a slumber party would feel like, giggling and getting ready.
Then as Shelly dresses, her friends and I change into our purple gowns.
We all squeal at how beautiful everyone looks, a slightly different shade of purple for each of us, mine the darkest. Atop my shoulders lies the metal shawl I handcrafted, simple, but shiny copper as Shelly requested.
“Oh, Farren! Your shawl!” Beatrice coos as she runs her fingertips over the metal decorating my shoulders and helping hold the dress in place.
“Thanks. Shelly made me craft it,” I say, receiving even more laughs. Her friends know too well that Shelly has a power of persuasion and wants everyone to be beautiful even on her big day.
“Youcrafted it?” Shelly asks, interrupting our laughter.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Spin for us,” her other friend, Maeve, encourages.
I spin, a shimmer of sparkles. For one of the first times I feel pretty, armored in confidence no one could shake.
“Go get James,” Shelly beckons. I halt my rotation. Okay, maybe one person could shake.
“What? No. He can get himself to the wedding. It’s not like he’s going to get lost.” Her ceremony is only half a mile up the road.
“Farren,” she huffs. “I’m not worried about him getting lost.”
I blush, pat the pleats of the skirt like it needs dusting. “I’ll just see him there. Especially when I have to walk down the aisle with him thanks to a certain someone.”
Shelly looks pointedly at me. “I have one request of you today.”
