Page 42 of Ashborne: Defiance

As she reached the point of Kham’s shoulder, I leaned forward, preparing to grasp her hand the moment she was in reach.

“He’s… very tall!” she puffed, her cheeks red and brow sweaty. But the cloak she wore was heavy and because she was levered back, it flared below her, hanging directly off her throat, restricting her breathing, so her face grew even redder.

She took the step up his side, reached up with her free hand and gripped the strap. I stretched, but she wasn’t close enough to grab yet.

She stopped there, catching her breath, then turned her arm so she could slide the loops of the strap up her forearm before bracing again.

She was close enough now that I saw the stark white and red welts around her arm and growled. “Shit, Grace. This isn’t safe. Who taught you to climb like that?”

She shrugged, anchored herself off that arm again, then wiped her brow with the other sleeve before pulling herself up another step. Then another.

“It’s just… what I figured out… to climb… from windows and… and such,” she puffed. “Doesn’t rely… on grip… as much.”

I frowned. “Why on earth does a lady need to climb out windows?” I stretched again and nodded, because my hand was only inches from her anchor arm now. When she stretched up on the next step, she’d clasp me instead of the strap.

“Spoken like… such a man,” she muttered, but then her gaze locked on my hand and I saw her prepare to reach for me—and realized she was bracing to jump.

“Wait, Grace—no!”

But I was too late. She’d already given herself a heave. Her free palm clapped into mine and I grabbed it—but sure enough, her arm was bent, which meant the moment she relaxed, she dropped—and her entire body weight fell inches before our grips caught.

She gave a squeak when our hands slipped—and because she’d lost the tension on her anchor arm as well, she tangled with the strap. Which was an excellent way to break a limb, or dislocate a shoulder if she fell. She flailed and her body turned, hanging from my hand. I barked a curse—I’d only caught the harness strap on the other side of Kham’s neck just in time, so I wouldn’t be pulled out of my seat. But now she had no traction on Kham’s side, and she was tangled with the heavy leather strap.

She gasped and tried to grab for it, but it was still half-looped around her now-free arm. Yet that hand was clearly numb and swollen from the restricted blood flow.

At least she didn’t panic.

“Grace, stop flailing.”

“I’m trying to help—”

“Stop moving, and listen to me,” I said through my teeth, my own training kicking in. “Just take a breath, and listen.”

Chastened, she stopped reaching and huffed, but let herself hang from my grip. I nodded. “Good, now, using your shoulder—not your elbow, for fuck’s sake—turn yourself to face Kham’s side. Free that arm from the strap—I’ve got you, don’t worry—then lift that hand so I can grab it. My arms will be crossed. Don’t be concerned.”

I sounded much calmer about this proposal than I felt. She was a tiny thing, but I’d have to brace both our weights with my knees in order to lift her, because her feet were out from under her and she no longer had any way to hold her own weight.

Leaning forward, I hooked my heels under Kham’s wing ridges, crossed my arms and reached for her with my free hand so she hung, facing my dragon, both hands above her head, and my arms crossed to clasp her hands.

When I had her by both hands and I was sure of my grip, praying my palms wouldn’t sweat, I took a deep breath. “I’m going to pull you up and turn you so you can sit on his spine. It’ll happen quickly. But I’ll catch you if it goes wrong. Just keep your wits and don’t wriggle.”

Her brow furrowed, but she nodded. I counted under my breath, then heaved her up, turning her as I did so, so her back was to me and I could get her seated side-saddle on his spine. That way, I could steady her if she overshot. If I tried to pull her far enough that she hung over his back, we’d both overbalance.

To her credit, she understood, and bent her forward knee to hook his withers when I yanked her up. She did wobble, and that fucking cloak twisted in her legs. But, I braced my arm to give her resistance until she found her center of gravity, then let go and hooked an arm around her waist to pull her toward me, so she could lift that forward leg over to straddle him.

Finally, we were both seated astride. My knees hooked over Kham’s wing ridges, and her nestled in the V between my thighs.

I blew out a breath of relief and frustration as soon as I was sure she was firm in her seat, and leaned over to pick up the safety strap I’d dropped, hooking fingers into her belt to clip it onto the leather. “Next time, if someone’s taking your weight, you grab with your arm extended, so there’s no drop—that doubles your weight. You understand?”

Grace nodded, grinning, and clapped her hands.

“But we did it!” she said breathlessly, then shot me a delighted grin over her shoulder. “You’re very strong.”

I gave her a flat look. “I wouldn’t have to be if you hadn’t rushed.”

Her expression dampened then. “Sorry, I was trying—”

“First of all, you never mount another rider’s dragon without their permission and direct permission from the dragon themselves!”