Page 126 of The Fifth Heir

“Try it,” Torren said.

Rafe gave him an offended look. “Whose side are you on?”

“Talia’s.”

The runes surrounding the garden turned gold.

Rafe sighed and took the harness from Sebastian. “Fine. If I’m strangled by academy rope, I expect all of you to feel terrible.”

The third opportunity came after they fitted the harness.

It was a simple arrangement compared with those used by dragon rescue teams: a wide leather belt around my waist, two crossing straps over my chest, and a safety line designed to loop around the base of Rafe’s neck.

The flight instructors used similar equipment to evacuate injured humans and children.

They did not usually strap an adult woman to an heir she had known for less than two weeks.

Rafe checked the buckle at my waist.

His fingers brushed the front of my training uniform.

“Too tight?”

“No.”

“Too loose?”

“No.”

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

He looked up.

I had expected a joke. He only nodded.

“We can stop.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that.”

“I’m demonstrating respect for your autonomy.”

“You’re expecting me to quit.”

“No. I’m making certain you don’t continue because four dragons are watching.”

Torren had moved to the edge of the clearing. Leander and Sebastian stood beside him, leaving space around us.

“I’m continuing because I want to fly,” I said.

“Good.”

Rafe tightened the final strap and stepped back.

“Then I need to change.”

He crossed into the center of the garden.