Page 97 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

If you fall from my back, I will not catch you. Her voice was sharp, laced with irritation, but beneath it, something else stirred.

Was that concern?

I swallowed, straightening with difficulty.I’m trying to stay upright, but I’m so damn tired.My head pulsed, my bodyaching. I barely had the energy to sit in the saddle, let alone fly a six-hour journey.

Why do you hate me?The question slipped through my mind before I could stop it.

Kaelith didn’t answer immediately, her mind a wall of silent resistance.

It is not you, personally,she finally said.It is what you represent. That white hair is offensive.

Oh,I muttered, struggling to form a coherent thought.So, it’s the way I look? Well, if that isn’t the bane of my entire existence.

I sighed, leaning forward, resting my forehead against the warmth of her scaled neck. I let my hand slip beneath the rope tied around her, grounding myself in the solid feel of her body.

There was a story behind her hatred, a wound left unhealed, but she didn’t trust me enough to share it.

Not yet.

My eyes drifted closed, but my mind remained entrenched in hers. Memories bled into my thoughts, unbidden, weaving themselves into the fragile thread that bound us.

I was about four, helping Stella with the mending. My tiny fingers pricked against the needle, staining the fabric with blood.“If we don’t mend the clothes, we go hungry.”She wasn’t a bad person, just desperate. We had struggled until that last year together—when Cyran must have taken an interest in me.

Then came Octavia, who taught me how to steal. It started small—simple pickpocketing. But as I got older, the jobs grew more dangerous.“You steal to live, but if you are caught, you die.”

And then I lived with Cyran, and my training changed again. It was no longer just about survival, but about skill. Assassination. I told him I would never kill, and I meant it.

Kaelith’s mind brushed against mine, her presence pressing closer.Did you ever have a choice?she asked, and for the first time, her voice wasn’t laced with bitterness.

My mind replayed memories I hadn’t meant to share.

Remy.

Our first kiss.

The first night I made love—to him.

The moment he proposed.

The night Cyran told me he hadn’t survived his last mission.

Just once,I whispered.

Kaelith exhaled deeply, something unreadable in her silence. Then, softer than I’d ever heard her speak before, she murmured,Sleep, Rider. You will not fall tonight.

Darkness clung to me like a second skin as we rode through the skies, my body swaying with the rhythm of Kaelith’s wings. I slipped in and out of sleep, unaware of the world around me. Each time I drifted too far, a sharp jolt snapped me back—Kaelith’s silent way of keeping me in the saddle.

How are you doing this?I asked her groggily, my mind barely forming the thought.

You will dismount shortly, she responded, ignoring my question entirely. Her voice wasn’t irritated this time, just matter-of-fact.

My eyes fluttered open just as she descended gracefully onto the Ascension Grounds. The moment her claws touched the ground, I tried to slide from the saddle, but my legs were sluggish, my entire body numb from exhaustion. My fingers fumbled with the knots, stiff and uncooperative from the cold.

The saddle slipped free and hit the ground with a thud. I worked at the last of the fastenings, untying the rope from around her neck, but before I could say a word, Kaelith launched back into the sky without another glance.

My shoulders slumped.I guess the bonding will have to wait.

Zander watched me from where he stood, arms crossed like he was waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t have the energy. Instead, I turned and trudged toward our barracks. The others followed, none of us speaking. It was late, and we’d get little rest before sunrise.