Page 27

27

Vaylen

I slide an arm under her legs and pick her up, never sparing a thought as to how I’ll get down from here. Anticipating the need, Zephyros lowers his head to the ground, something dragons rarely do. He allows me to walk down his snout, from which I jump to the ground, landing in a crouch.

Straightening, I walk toward the lift, cutting a path through the gawking Primes and Skyriders.

“Is she dead?” one of them asks.

“What the hell was that?” another one says.

“She isn’t dead,” Prime Emberstone says with a measure of reverence. “She is bonded .”

Gasps go through the group as I leave them behind. I enter the lift, the full weight of her body pressed against my chest. As we descend, I feel my heart beating against her. It’s fast and frantic. When I bonded with Fragor, I went through the same experience, but being witness to it was an entirely different experience. I never knew the joining of powers was so evident and fully visible to others.

I saw the exact moment Zephyros’s energy went into her, then the instant the flow changed directions, infusing the dragon. It’s the most awe-inspiring thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

The lift hits bottom, and a passing Claw throws the metal doors open. Her eyes go wide.

“The infirmary, Sir?” she asks.

“No.” Offering no explanation, I head toward the dormitories. Once in her room, I lay her down on her narrow bed, easing her head onto the pillow. The bed is unmade, the wardrobe doors thrown open. Dirty clothes lie strewn on the floor—several demerits if there were to be an inspection.

At this moment, none of those things seem to matter. Instead, I feel fiercely protective of her. It’s the way I feel about every member of my Clutch, but far more intense. I don’t like the tight sensation in my chest, the impotence that her unconscious state prompts in me. Logically, I know she isn’t hurt, but this emotion seems blind to logic.

Kneeling next to her bed, I push a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead. Her cheeks are flushed, her mouth slightly parted. She’s so beautiful and seems so fragile despite her fierceness. I snatch my hand away.

What are you doing, Vaylen?

I stand and take a step back. She stirs, eyelashes fluttering. I head for the door.

“Vaylen,” she says in a groggy voice.

My name on her lips does something to me that I shouldn’t like. I glance back.

She’s looking straight at me, lids at half mast. “It was… wonderful,” she says. “I feel whole.”

I nod in full comprehension. I experienced the same feeling during my bonding. Until now, there’s been no one in the Sky Order able to understand my relationship with my dragon, but today, that has changed. I wonder if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Though perhaps, our bonds are not exactly the same. Even without bonding, she and Zephyros seem able to understand each other somehow. Strange.

Pulling the door open, I say, “Sleep, Skysinger. You need rest.”

She smiles gently, then her eyes drift closed. I leave, pushing down the desire to stay by her side. I shouldn’t have been the one to bring her here. Hopefully, my behavior won’t get tongues wagging, and they’ll attribute my concern to my general protectiveness over my Clutch. The other Primes are always reminding me I can’t keep my team safe at all times, that I’m going to drive myself crazy with worry, that a leader should be more practical in order to be successful, but it’s my nature. At Ashen House, I always watched out for the youngest boys. The guardians never considered age when imparting their vicious lashes, so I took the blame for missing bread rolls and lost school supplies more times than I care to count.

Before I return to the surface, I ask a medic to check on Skysinger Wyndward every hour, without disturbing her sleep. She will take a full day to recuperate, at the very least.

When I reach the top, I’m glad to find everyone hard at work once more. I’m sure the other Primes didn’t let their pupils stand idle for too long. The pressure to complete our training and return to the front lines is too great. Our seconds do an excellent job leading our Clutches in our absence, but given the strange developments of late, we have no choice but to expedite things.

I’m pleased to find Skysinger Breezehart standing on Trueno’s head. Her eyes are closed, and Tethers spring from her body, connecting her to her dragon. Some take hours to learn how to make the connection, but she seems to be an intuitive learner.

Smiling from ear to ear, she opens her eyes. She panics when she sees me, as if she fears she’s been breaking the rules.

“Good job, Skysinger,” I say to ease her concerns.

She holds her chin high, looking proud.

I leap onto Fragor, who brushes my mind with a measure of concern. I let a reassuring feeling flow between us to indicate everything is all right. I feel his mind relax and turn my attention back to Breezehart.

“S-sir,” she starts hesitantly, “Is Rhea all right?”

“She’s fine. Don’t worry about her.” A pause. “Guess what?”

She perks up. “What, Sir?”

“You’re ready to fly.”

She beams, her freckled face lighting up with an all-too-familiar excitement. Flying is a rider’s favorite drug, and she’s about to get her first taste and then be hooked forever.