Page 30 of Of Blood and Banes (The Arterian #2)

DON’T FORGET TO brEATHE

T awny smiles at me the next morning. “I will never forget the Arterian who risked her life to set me free. Thank you, Katerina.”

She’s to stay behind, considering she’s the leader of Midkeep.

She’s needed here, and even though I haven’t known her long, I prefer her much more over Sethan.

As a going away present, she gifts me a black corset, shaped with water dragon bones that washed up on one of the eastern shores.

She assures me the corset will provide enough protection for my ribs, should any blade strike me.

That, and she was quite delighted to inform me there are hidden sheaths for daggers. Should I need them.

The rest of the squad and Vitalans gather for our trip.

I nod awkwardly at Tawny. “It was only the right thing to do.”

She pulls me into a hug, whispering into my ear, “Remember that.”

I blink at her, unsure of the implications, but I don’t have much time to consider it as Sethan begins to round up his people and the squad.

There are several horse-drawn wagons to store our supplies, along with any others who can’t travel as fast on foot.

Daeja lowers herself to the ground as I approach her, the tip of her tail twitching in anticipation.

“Nervous?” I ask as I tuck in a stray strand of silvery-blonde hair back into my braids. My body still carries a heavy ache throughout my muscles from spending almost half of last night in the rain practicing pulling magic with Marge.

Daeja snorts at me, the hot steam blowing my hair out of my face as I stop at her side. “ Never.”

“I know.” I smile, patting her neck. She’s grown big enough now that I can walk underneath her, with the top of my head brushing the underside of her scaled belly.

But despite her size, her exuberant confidence still mirrors her youth.

I grab the saddle’s foothold and claw myself up her side.

Though, she eventually has to nudge me up into my seat with her nose.

Cole strolls over to us, still avoiding eye contact. I tighten a thick, leather belt around my waist, adorned with metal loops sewn into the material. Taking the long leather straps attached to the saddle with hooks on the ends, I secure each one to the loops on my belt.

“Are you all hooked in?” Cole mumbles softly as he stops a few steps away from us.

“I think so?” I shift my hips, settling into a comfortable position and double-checking I’ve secured all the hooks.

He reaches out a hand, and Daeja shifts subtly away from his touch as he tightens and double-checks each strap. Despite the fact he can’t even look me in the eye, he assures himself with each tug on every belt and loop.

“I never said thank you for the saddle,” I murmur.

He glances up for a split second before lowering his eyes again with a small nod. Tightening one more strap wrapped behind Daeja’s shoulders, he pats her neck.

Her head spins into his direction, her eyes dilating and narrowing as she stares at Cole. “Watch yourself,” she growls.

“Be safe,” he whispers at both of us, before walking off to join the rest of the group traveling by wagon.

“You too…” I mutter, though he’s too far away now to have heard me.

Archie helps Marge up into the wagon, and the two of them take a seat next to Melaina.

Several other men and women join them, crowding into the back.

My attention snags on Darian, still manacled and held between two of Sethan’s soldiers.

Archie catches my gaze and waves enthusiastically with a toothy smile.

With a small chuckle, I wave back at him.

Melaina and Marge follow his gaze, dipping their heads at me a little more subtle than the level of Archie’s blind enthusiasm.

A heavy thrum of gigantic footsteps approaches behind us, and Daeja’s anxiety quivers the bond between us. Though, on the outside, she’s completely still with her head held high and staring off at the group. A’nala slides in next to us, her movements heavy but serpentine.

Sethan sits in his saddle, his back straight and eyes set somewhere in the distance before he turns to me. “Ready?”

I have to look up at him to make eye contact. A’nala is close to double the size of Daeja. Rather than airing my anxiety about the thought of flying, I nod. My chest burning as a reminder that I’ve managed to hold onto a breath, until I release it.

He turns his attention back to that nonexistent spot in the distance. “Let’s fly. To the skies and the stars.”

A’nala’s fiery red jaws part as she bellows, the sound tearing through the forest as she clambers forward, her wings beating hard and carrying her and Sethan up into the sky.

Tilting my chin down in determination, I wrap my hands tighter around the two horns protruding from the top of the saddle. The only thing combating my nervousness about falling are the small metal hooks secured to my belt and tied down to the saddle.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” I blow out a breath and narrow my eyes. “Let’s fly.”

“To the skies and the stars,” Daeja mocks Sethan, before she bursts into a run, flapping her wings a bit harder than A’nala had to, until she lifts into the air.

The Arterians crowded in the wagons watch with wide eyes as Daeja and I rise.

Their faces and figures fade from view as we lift higher.

The ground and trees shrink beneath us, and a cold wind zaps all the warmth from my face.

Thank goodness for the extra thick layers of black leather and fabric Tawny gifted me.

We rise until the horizon fades off into an unknown distance.

We’re higher than Daeja and I have ever flown before, and my stomach tightens as I get dizzy.

The sky stretches out around us, a limitless blue canvas.

Mountains and trees pepper the land as far as the eye can see.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Daeja warns.

Sucking in a big inhale, the dizzying sensation lessens.

I had indeed forgotten to breathe on the ascension.

Glancing down at my aching, sweaty hands clenching the horns, I’m silently thanking Marge for the gloves.

Finger by finger, I pull one off at a time, relief springing to my joints and muscles at the release of pressure.

“That’s it, good, relax. Let go, I’ve got you.”

Shakily, I release the horns completely but hover my hands an inch out from them, ready to grab them in a split second if I need to.

My brain and heart won’t listen to the fact that I’m strapped and hooked into the saddle—the only way I can possibly fall is if I unhook myself.

But I can’t ignore the nervous shake of my hands, the war drum of a beat in my chest, and the sweat dripping down my neck.

Daeja takes a sudden dive, my ass lifting off the seat a few inches, suspended by the hooks latching me in. My stomach drops into my godsdamned toes, and I shriek as I fling myself forward and cling to the saddle horns again for dear life, squeezing my legs and shutting my eyes.

Daeja’s body quakes underneath me with unabashed humor.

“Not funny!”

“I thought it was funny.”

“If I wasn’t hooked into the saddle I would have splattered on the ground by now!”

“Maybe you need to learn to let go and actually trust me,” she growls.

“I do trust you. It’s just that…”

“What?”

“What if the saddle comes loose? The straps rip? A buckle breaks?”

“You tend to overthink things. The Red One made it pretty clear he triple-checked all those things before we left. I think he might have even done it just to reassure you, because he already checked it on me before you got there. Besides, even if all those things did happen, I would still get you. I would never let you fall.”

I hesitate to respond, my mind buzzing from all the uncertainty.

“Don’t believe me? Let’s test it. Unhook yourself ? —”

I laugh, the motion trembling in my chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Prove you can trust me.”

“Or prove you can trust me when I say I trust you!”

She grumbles, about ready to bite back with something else when she quiets. She turns her head to the side, eyes fixed blankly in the distance. “Wait, hold that thought…”

I follow her gaze. A’nala’s red figure glides in and out of the clouds. Six other dragon riders follow close behind her, forming a large V.

“A’nala wants us to join the dragon riders.”

“Can you talk to all of them? Even at this distance?”

“Yes. Though, some of the others are harder to understand.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Some of them have accents and different tones I’m trying to get used to. The second one on the right behind A’nala slurs his s’s a lot. And the third one in the left line doesn’t like to speak to me. Actually…I don’t think he speaks much at all. A’nala says for me to not bother him.”

She veers left, the wind slicing beneath her wings and ripping at my braided hair. I crouch down, pressing myself tighter into her to avoid the wind. Or, at least, that’s what I tell myself.

“Tawny mentioned a few days ago about there being other dragon riders, and I’ve never seen them until today. But…it sounds like you’ve met them before?”

“Once or twice.”

“And you didn’t tell me, why?”

“Just as you feel you can handle yourself, I can also handle myself.”

“I have decades of life experience over you, though.”

“And I can speak with other dragons. You cannot.”

“Touché.”

“Plus, it’s not like you tell me every time you meet someone new.”

Daeja flies over to them, eventually joining in the back of the right line.

While I’ve seen birds migrate over the Northern Forest back in Padmoor every winter, seeing dragons fly in such an organized formation was something else.

Even one dragon gliding through the sky was majestic.

Their heads dipping as the rest of their bodies rolled in rhythm.

Their strong muscled shoulders flexing with each flap of their massive wings.