Page 39 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

“Good girl,” he growled and smiled again. “Now, don’t forget to unbuckle that release strap, or you’ll be back up there in a minute,” he added.

Pleasure fluttered through my chest at his smile, despite the groan anticipating pain in my body. But moments later I had the strap released, then found myself in the awkward position of needing to get both legs over her back, but braced to get tension against the rope so I could climb down.

It took a full minute to manage it, but finally I had the mounting strap in my hands, my feet braced on Akhane’s shoulder, and my weight levered back against my grip on the strap to keep myself positioned for the walk down the way my brothers had shown me.

And at first, it went well. I took tiny steps down, inch by inch until I traversed the round of her shoulder and her muscles dug in under her clavicle. The next step, without warning, my boot slipped.

I caught my weight on the strap and swung, but the shocking pain in my hands made my grip release on reflex and I dropped—Donavyn’s eyes wide and a shout echoing in the stable as he darted aside so I wouldn’t land on him.

My ankles groaned with pain when I landed, and I was glad for the straw on the floor as I tried to let my knees take the shock, but my momentum from that height tumbled me awkwardly back into the hay.

Donavyn rushed forward, alarmed, my name on his tongue.

But I was already rolling to my side, laughing.

My knees and ankles ached, my hands were bleeding again, and I was so tired I wanted nothing more than to faceplant into the straw and sleep. But Akhane had somehow placed a flickering image in my head, her memory. Of me. Falling on my ass. And I looked ridiculous.

I pushed to all fours, back aching, spluttering with laughter.

Donavyn stopped within arms reach, but didn’t touch me, and when I looked up, his expression was a combination of baffled relief, and alarmed concern.

And that only made me laugh more.

“I l-love the f-flying,” I spluttered. “B-but it’s a helluva d-dismount.”

Donavyn coughed like he was covering laughter of his own. A moment later his wide, calloused palm appeared in the air in front of my nose. After a second, shaking my head in resignation, I placed my hand in his and let him help me to my feet, still giggling.

But when I was upright, Donavyn wasn’t fighting laughter anymore. He’d turned my hand over and was examining my palm, a frown on his face .

“These wounds need dressing,” he muttered darkly. “Did Ronen know about this?” he asked sternly. “These are exactly the injuries that can cause infection, tonight was never the night you should have been challenged with this.”

Slipping out of his grip, I put both my hands behind my back. “I didn’t tell him,” I said. “I—”

“Next time you tell your Commanding officer if you’re injured, even if it seems minor to you. Let him make the judgment call about what’s appropriate for you. That’s an order,” he said firmly. “Now, have you hurt anything with that fall?”

I shook my head and my smile came back, but it was nervous exhaustion. I just wanted to lay down. “I’m fine. I just need to get that harness off now.”

Thankfully, I knew that part. I’d been through it enough times with my squad brothers. It was just going to take time because I had to be careful not to unbuckle the wrong straps so the harness would be ready for work tomorrow.

As I worked through the steps, Donavyn cleared his throat and folded his arms, standing aside, but eyes intent. “You’ve done well tonight,” he said gruffly.

I snorted and the unhinged laughter threatened to return. “I’ll wager I’ve taken longer to harness and mount than any man you’ve trained before,” I said flatly, because I didn’t doubt that it was true.

Donavyn gave a low rumble—and Kgosi reflected him, his deep resonance vibrating in the stones under the stable dust.

“The strength to throw harness and haul yourself up a rope doesn’t automatically equate to an elegant dismount,” he muttered.

“It’s true I made it to my seat the first time I attempted it,” he said, his tone saying that it wasn’t a great achievement, though I felt a stab of envy.

“But I was so cocky about it, I tried to dismount without thinking it through. I felt backwards, knocked my head on the ground and stunned myself. I was grounded for two days and by the time I returned, the other Flameborne who’d been Chosen was already taking his first flight.

I was humbled . And teased for weeks by my squad brothers,” he said dryly.

There was a flash in my head of Voski teasing Harle with all the shit jokes, and even though I knew the words were funny, my heart pinched.

“Why do men insist on insulting others to increase themselves?” I muttered. The shadows in my mind wanted to conjure a particularly handsome face and bright smile, a heavenly body, and—

“In most cases, between brothers, the insults are a sign of regard,” Donavyn said with a shrug.

“Keep that in mind when your turn comes to be the target of jokes in your squad. However, the desire to belittle another to raise yourself is a human flaw, not restricted to men. If you don’t indulge in it, it will serve you well. ”

Neither of us spoke until I’d finally unbuckled the last of the harness and it dropped to the straw. I gathered it up, then turned to face the General with it in my arms.

He looked at the modified harness rubbing his chin, then smiled.

“You’ll need to work on getting faster at every step.

But for a first time, well done, Bren. You faced a true challenge and found a way.

” Then his gaze went thoughtful. “When I arrived you told me that you couldn’t do this.

Yet you have. Remember that: you lied to yourself.

You couldn’t solve the problem in the normal way, but you found your way through—and quickly.

A nimble mind is a sharp weapon when paired with a strong body. ”

“My body’s not strong, though.”

“Perhaps not compared to your brothers, or me. No. But there are few scenarios in my life where I’d choose brute strength over intellect and self-control. Keep that as your focus, Bren. Meet difficulty with determination, not despair.

“The moment you glimpsed an answer, your countenance changed. That is the place you should work from every day. Be curious. Be thoughtful. When a challenge comes, don’t see it as defeat. Address it as a problem to be solved.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I huffed. “No, I mean it. You didn’t have to stay here and help me. You’re too important to spend hours with a Flameborne like me. But you did. And you helped me do things I didn’t think I could. So, thank you. I understand why Ru—excuse me, the men respect you.”

He blinked like I’d surprised him. I thought perhaps he’d heard what I was about to say—Ruin’s name—but then he tipped his head.

“Bren, I think perhaps you haven’t heard this enough in your lifetime, so listen to me carefully. You’re worth a few extra hours of work. If that hasn’t been made clear to you before, let it be clear now. You’re worth a great deal more than that.”

He said the words with casual conviction—as if there were no question.

I stared at him and his eyes locked on mine, and the hollow of my chest crackled. A tiny, warm tug, as if a rope that had lain in the summer sun tightened like a noose around my heart and yanked at me. Just once.

Donavyn’s eyes narrowed and his brow lined.

I blinked and turned away, towards my room. “I need to wash,” I squeaked, confused and thrilled and uncertain why, so I hurried for that door.

“Sleep well tonight, Bren. You have a purpose here. I believe you can do this.”

My breath caught and I almost tripped on my own toe. I wanted to drop the harness, turn, and run back to him, to throw myself into that broad chest, weep with weariness, and thank him. But the urge was insane .

“Thank you!” I called without looking back, then disappeared into my room and kicked the door closed behind me.

~ DONAVYN ~

As I turned back to my dragon, I was uneasy. And uncertain why.

I’d stood alongside countless Flameborne and Furyknights, encouraging them toward a goal. Pushing them when needed, and celebrating with them when they reached the summit. And happy to do so.

But something had happened just then—

‘Will we be allowed to sleep now? Or do you plan to grace us with further pearls of wisdom?’

‘God, you’re obnoxious sometimes.’

‘Your kind do claim that we Choose to reflect ourselves.’

I snorted as I reached him and he extended his head to let me scratch behind his eye-ridges, and ears. He closed his eyes and gave a long, low groan that vibrated in the stable walls.

When he sighed happily and dropped his head to the floor, I patted his neck. ‘Thank you for your patience.’

‘There is no patience in it. A newly Chosen is a child. Every time. Children must be taught. And their confidence bolstered.’

He opened the eye closest to me and met my gaze with a knowing look in that fathomless, amber orb.

That squeeze in my chest became a pressure. A drive.

Shaken, I petted him one more time, then bid Akhane farewell, and started for the door. But my chest felt fragile. Was it because she was so small? So breakable? Was I growing soft? Forgetting that the Flameborne needed to be pushed to find their feet? Or was there something different about—

No. No, of course not. Bren was special—definitely. Unique. A woman where no woman had been before. That in itself was an achievement. Of course as her leader I was drawn to encourage her on the path.

That was all.

I grimaced. ‘Kgosi?’

‘Mmmm?’

‘What do the dragons do when they want to recognize a landmark in another who doubted themselves?’

‘We give honor,’ he drawled, meaning when Dragons heralded each other with calls, and flying to call others to see, as they did when a Flameborne was first Chosen .

But that didn’t help. I huffed. ‘Well, what would you do to acknowledge the achievement of a human woman, then? How would you recognize her without making a fuss?’

Kgosi took look enough to respond that I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. But then finally…

‘Those whose bonded have mates say the best recognition is a gift,’ he replied confidently. ‘Something suitable to her rank, but personal to her nature.’

I frowned. I barely knew Bren, and I had no desire to overstep or confuse her. But I was driven forward—she had been put down too much in her short life. She needed a tangible reminder when things got tough again. Which they would. They always did. Even for the Flameborne that weren’t female.

But what?

And then a memory whispered in my mind. That moment I’d taken her to the Quartermaster and she’d seen those shelves of books.

Her eyes had brightened and gone round.

I smiled.

I had my answer.