Page 19

19

Rhea

I wake up from a dead sleep, feeling feverish. Sitting up in a daze, I press both hands to my cheeks, trying to measure my temperature. I swallow. No sore throat. I don’t think I’m sick. But I feel… what?

Thinking for a moment, I gauge the way my skin seems to prickle, the swollen sensation in my lips, and… other parts of my body. Shit! I’m still aroused. Dragon’s breath! I tried to scratch that itch earlier, but no luck there.

The clock on the wall ticks. Beyond the window, gloom lingers. It’s not even daytime yet, so why am I awake? I pad to the clock to check the time. 02:17.

Why did I wake up?

I glance around the room. Something feels different as if the air has been disturbed. I hug myself, thoughts of my mother’s ghost rising. This always happens whenever I go home. A shiver slides cold fingers down my spine.

Well, isn’t this the perfect way to douse my libido?

I hug myself tighter, practically sinking into my shirt. My nose twitches as a faintly familiar scent emanates from the fabric. I close my eyes, basking in the delicious musk. A distinctly male presence fills my awareness. I frown. Vaylen? No. I must be imagining things. I shake my head. My mind seems to be getting better at playing tricks on me. First, my mother’s too-real sight at home, and now this. I don’t like it at all.

Determined to go back to sleep, I start turning toward my bed when I notice a shadow moving in the glow that seeps under my door. I expect it to pass by, but it lingers. Without considering the danger, I stride to the door and throw it open.

Vaylen is crouched in front of me, a folded piece of paper in hand. His blue eyes are wide, startled. His face is at the level of my crotch, too close for comfort… or perhaps not. His gaze slowly moves up, taking its time at the open V of my shirt. He stares at my face, eyes roving as if searching for something. His expression is strange as if he expects to find a ghost. When our eyes finally meet, he blinks in surprise and jumps to his feet.

“You’re… awake,” he says.

“Your powers of perception astound me,” I reply, then quickly bite my tongue.

That is no way to talk to the High Prime, but hey, I just woke up and can’t be required to remember propriety. I expect him to remind me he’s my superior, and I need to show respect, but he seems rattled, embarrassed even. How odd. The urge to hide behind the door or at least pull the top of my shirt together assaults me, but I have enough presence of mind to fight against it. This is the perfect opportunity to get under this man’s skin. Best of all? He’s the one lurking at my door. I didn’t have to move a finger to give him a tempting glimpse of my barely covered body. Does he realize I’m wearing no undergarments? My mouth stretches in a lopsided smile.

Unfortunately, his mood changes in the span of a few seconds, going from rattled to utterly under control. I notice the change in the way his jawline tightens, and his spine goes ramrod straight. The change is so drastic, I nearly click my heels and give him a salute.

The man wears propriety like a second skin, a shield as formidable as his broad shoulders. To imagine him unbound by duty is to imagine the sky without its stars.

He holds the piece of paper up. “I was attempting to deliver a message.” His hand closes and the paper crumples between his strong fingers. “Since you’re awake, we can expedite things. Get dressed and meet me in the lobby in five minutes. We’re leaving.”

Moving like one of the cogwings at the Academy, he whirls on his heel and moves in long strides toward the lobby. I stare after him, dumbfounded. What was that all about? Would it have been too hard to explain why we have to leave in the middle of the night and where we’re going? Is this part of the training? Or some sort of hazing? No. That can’t be it. I’m not even supposed to be here. Something bad must have happened.

Worry mounting, I dress in record time, slicking my hair back in the bathroom and fashioning a top knot with practiced fingers. Boots in hand, I leave the room and slip them on as I make my way down the corridor, hopping from one foot to the other. In the lobby, I find Vaylen pacing in front of the counter, the attendant looking bleary eyed and bedraggled. He was likely taking a nap in some back room before the crazy Sky Order High Prime rang the little bell and roused him from a pleasant dream.

Vaylen pauses his pacing and glares at the attendant. “Did you tell them to hurry?”

“Yes, sir. It should only be a few more minutes.”

The crazy High Prime grunts in frustration and resumes his pacing. I approach, checking my jacket’s buttons and straightening my collar.

“Sir, at your command,” I say, hoping he will issue some order that will shed some light on what’s going on, but he barely acknowledges me.

I stand there, awkwardly rocking on my heels and picking lint off my black uniform. Everything sticks to this damn wool. Of course, it might have helped if I’d used a hanger and the wardrobe, not the floor.

A red-clad messenger boy, who should be in bed and not working at this ridiculous hour, runs in through the front door.

“Your carriage is ready, Sir.” He bows.

Vaylen takes out a coin from his pocket and hands it to the boy. “Thank you.”

The boy’s eyes get as big as saucers at the sight of a gold coin. He bows three times in a row, his mouth opening and closing. The creature is speechless, and with good reason. That coin can feed him and his family for two weeks or more.

I update my mental catalog. Generosity isn’t a trait I would have expected from such a stern, proud-looking man. He represents everything Embernia demands from its powerful soldiers: control, obedience, adherence to the rules. But in these small lapses, I glimpse a potential for so much more, a crack in his formidable armor.

Vaylen throws a glance in my direction. “Skysinger, follow me.” He heads for the exit.

I’m quick on his heels. As I pass in front of the boy, he gapes at me in awe. I’m used to similar looks from street urchins. The Aerie Academy uniform confers sizable prestige, but this is a whole different level.

This borders on reverence.

I ruffle the boy’s hair. “I’ll say hello to my dragon for you.”

The boy gives me a wide, happy grin.

Outside, frigid air cuts through my thick uniform. I shiver, slip my coat on, and climb inside the awaiting carriage after Vaylen. I sit across from him, and we’re immediately on the move. Hooves and wheels clatter against the cobblestone street, echoing loudly in the quiet night.

I’m about to ask what’s happening when he explains. “There’s been an unusual attack from the Screechclaws.”

“Unusual?”

“I can’t say more at the moment, just that reinforcements are needed. Unfortunately, all we have are a handful of untrained Skyriders.” He gives me a scathing once over that makes me bristle.

“I’m not untrained,” I reply. “I’m a graduate of Aerie Academy.”

“Which means all you can handle is a wooden sword and a cogwing.”

“That’s unfair. You know well we use real swords during our final year.”

He huffs. “Against your fellow students, not mad creatures from the Blighted Arcs. You don’t have the slightest idea how things are on the front lines.”

I seethe, but he’s right. I glare down at my interlaced hands. I’ve only read about the Blighted Arcs, a barren land eroded by time and wind where its abundant natural arcs are said to serve as perches to the Screechclaws.

“I’m sorry, Skysinger,” he says, surprising me. “I’m taking it out on you, and none of this is your fault. My Clutch is there, and I’m worried about them.”

An apology? Something else I didn’t expect from him.

“It’s all right,” belatedly I add, “Sir.” A pause as I hesitate. “Can you… tell me more?”

He shakes his head. “Need-to-know basis for now.”

“I hope your Clutch is all right.”

“It’s your Clutch, too,” he says with a wry smile that seems to be part of an extended apology.

I return his smile, a warm feeling spreading in my chest. “Can you tell me about them ?”

His smile turns fond as he nods. “Sure. There are fifty-two of us. You’ve probably heard of some of them.”

I nod. “Dakar Cloudwalker, Eleonora Nightsong, Morwenna and Madeline Airglide.”

“Of course. We’re a tightly knit group, disciplined. We have each other’s back in a battle. They tease newcomers, but if you prove your mettle and show respect, you’ll soon feel like one of them.”

“Sounds like a nice group. I can’t wait to meet them.”

He sighs. “You will. Sooner than expected.”

“Oh?”

“The time we have for training has been reduced to two weeks.”

“Two weeks?!” Four hardly seemed like enough, but two?

“It’s all we’ve got. We’ll have to work hard. I fear sleep will become a luxury.”

It seems I should feel dismayed, but instead, the idea is exhilarating. “I won’t disappoint you, Sir. I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

One of his dark eyebrows rises up in an arch. “I expect nothing less from this year’s best Academy graduate.”

Chest full to burst with anticipation, I look out the window. Buildings rush past, blurring into scenes of Zephyros and I soaring through the sky over enemy territory, Wind Blasts shooting from my hands, my power enhanced by my dragon’s. I think of the bond we will form and wonder when and how it’ll happen. I imagine us razing entire enemy encampments to the ground, and picture every citizen in Embernia, including the King, licking my boots in appreciation. Best of all, I picture a future where fear is forever swept from my heart. A future where no one would dare threaten me or mine. A future full of happiness.

Out of nowhere, a vivid image of Vaylen’s strong arms wrapped around me as we kissed pops into my mind. We’re in a hotel room, my hotel room. I’m sitting at the edge of the bed, while he kneels in front of me, my legs caging him in.

I lift a hand to my lips, feeling the fierce and passionate stroke of his mouth against mine. My eyes cut in his direction. Our gazes lock. Something passes between us, a secret acknowledgment. He was in my room, and we kissed.

Vaylen’s jaw ticks as he holds my gaze, not shying away but steadfast. Without words, I understand what he’s telling me.

He is owing to his mistake and assuring me it’ll never happen again.

I bite my lower lip and smile inwardly. Oh, Dear Vaylen, the door is now open. There’s no way I’m letting you shut it.