Page 90 of Under the Iron Sky

Keep still, he mouthed, the movement of his lips so slight she almost missed it. Don’t panic.

“And how do you suggest I do that when she’s coming toward me like she wants to use my bones to clean her teeth,” Soraya hissed under her breath, right as a wall of near-unbearable heat slammed into her face.

How Ikarus could stand to be so close to the dragon all the time, Soraya had no idea. She felt as though all the water in her body was being boiled to steam from just being near it.

Closer and closer the dragon stalked, and every breath Soraya ever had or would take seemed to leave her in one quick swish when a hot snout suddenly crashed into her torso.

She tried to put some distance between her and the beast, blood pounding in her ears, her chest, but the dragon just kept coming—and then her back was pressed against the castle wall and the creature’s maw was vibrating with hunger and yes—this was it. This was absolutely the moment she became dragon feed.

Oh, her spirit was going to make sure Ikarus never knew a moment’s peace after this. She’d known he was a cruel bastard. They’d come to a truce of sorts in those caves, but to let her save his life just to feed her to his pet days later? What an arsehole.

Arms trembling, Soraya whacked the dragon’s snout and tried to push the beast away. Her scales weren’t as hot as she’d thought they’d be, more like holding stones that’d been left to warm in the suns all day rather than the inferno she’d been expecting.

Apparently not a fan of being pushed, the dragon gave her a nudge. Soraya squeezed her eyes shut, sure that this was the moment she was crushed to dust—

Then it all vanished. The pushing. The heat. The massive jaws she’d been sure were about to bite her in half. All of it, gone.

The ground shook again, and when Soraya was finally brave enough to open her eyes, the dragon was prowling away from her, back to Ikarus, who was staring up at the beast with … What was that look on his face? She didn’t really know. Only that it made him look a little younger. Filed some of his spiked edges away into something softer. Perhaps even a little human.

“She’s never done that before.” His voice was almost wistful.

“Done … what?” Good grief, Soraya could barely get a breath down.

“Been affectionate with someone other than me.”

Soraya gave a breathless scoff. “That was … affection?”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” Ikarus ran his hand across her neck again. “She doesn’t let anyone near her. Not even Ramapheal.”

“Oh yeah, she seemed really affectionate when she was trying to bite my head off a few days ago.” Or perhaps that was just everyone’s way down here? Soraya couldn’t rule it out.

“You’re hardly one to talk. You’re twice as snappy as she is when you’re afraid.”

Afraid. That word had Soraya narrowing her eyes at him. “You mean to tell me that this monster”—she made a sweeping motion to the beast beside him—“this enormous fire-breathing lizard who could very easily pick me out of her teeth if she so wished, is afraid of me? For what reason?”

Ikarus’s eyes slid over her. “What, indeed, God Killer.”

29

The flight was both not as bad as Soraya thought it was going to be and a thousand times worse.

Better, because anything was better than being in that dungeon a moment longer. And worse, because Ikarus was sitting behind her, his broad thighs bracketing hers, and was pressed so close against her back she could feel each inhale and exhale he took as though it were her own.

They’d been flying for quite some time. Ikarus never said a word to the beast, but it was clear the two had quite the connection. They flew a little too close to the ceiling for Soraya’s liking, but the flight was much smoother than she’d expected, and no matter how much the dragon weaved or twisted its body to curve around a stalactite or particularly tight bend, she barely moved from the saddle.

Soraya didn’t mind the silence—suns above knew she’d rather staple her mouth shut than willingly converse with the Demon at her back—but that didn’t stop her mind from turning over.

You’re twice as snappy as she is when you’re afraid.

His dragon, afraid of her? The idea was so absurd that Soraya had to bite her lip several times to keep from laughing.

She spent most of the flight peering down below. She’d expected to pass over war camps and training grounds and all manner of horrors, but what she saw instead were several small towns carved into the rocks, underground fields of poultry or cattle, and red lakes and waterfalls, all of which were illuminated by those crystals growing out of the walls and floor that pulsed with red light.

They’d just wound around a particularly sharp bend when Ikarus’s muscles contracted behind her back. He leaned forward, so close Soraya went rigid when his cheek glided past her own, and pressed a pale hand on the dragon’s scaled neck.

“Shhhh,” Ikarus hushed, the sound vibrating against Soraya’s ear. “It’s all right, girl. I don’t like it either.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Soraya asked, more as a distraction from the way the deep tremor of his voice slid across her skin like the trail of cold fingers.