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Rhea

I growl in frustration and throw my arms up in the air. We only have four days left in Sky’s Edge, and I’m still unable to cast Wind Spear and Wind Dagger.

“Anger and frustration aren’t going to help,” Vaylen says.

Phoebe is flying overhead on Trueno’s head, practicing maneuvers as her dragon pirouettes over the clouds, while I’m stuck down here, the bull’s-eye still mocking me. Even Zephyros got bored and abandoned me, taking off in search of four or five delicious sheep to eat. With a dragon like that, who needs enemies?

“But I’ve tried it all,” I say. “I might as well give those a try, too.”

Vaylen has worked as hard as we have these past seven days. He is relentless and strict but always encouraging. Despite my repeated failures, he hasn’t once made me feel inadequate and continues to assure me I will master these two moves in time. Moreover, he hasn’t pressured me to answer his proposal. In fact, his nonchalance and formal manner has me wondering if he has changed his mind, something that has made it more difficult for me to make a decision.

“Have you given any thought to what might be… blocking you from performing these maneuvers?” he asks.

I huff and shake my head. Yesterday, he asked me to meditate before bed, then to search my mind for answers. But meditating is one of those things I’ve always hated. It was part of our teachings at the Academy, used to increase focus and help understand our elemental powers better. But sitting still, doing nothing, has never been my forte.

My answer is a shrug. I try to circumvent him to face the targets again and keep at it, but he grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Rhealyn,” he whispers my name in his raspy voice, shocking me into stillness.

Slowly, my eyes lift to meet his, and as our gazes lock, wind whirls around us. He lets go, frowning. Nothing like this has happened since the day of the Rite of Flight. I have pushed that strange event so far into the back of my mind that I’d started to believe it never happened. From the tense set of his shoulders, I suspect he’s done the exact opposite. Has he been waiting for our powers to interact this way once more?

“You were saying.” I tilt my head to one side. This is certainly strange, and I shouldn’t be taking it lightly, but I like seeing him unsettled. It makes him more real. The man is too in control. It’s nice to see that he sometimes feels uncertain like the rest of us.

He opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again. It’s clear there’s much on his mind on the subject, but for some reason, he doesn’t seem willing to talk about it. For my part, I would rather talk about that than whatever is causing this damn block on my abilities. At this point, I’d even talk about making more mistakes with him. Wyrm’s rot! I would ride him right here, right now, if I could.

He collects himself. “I was saying… there must be something blocking you. Based on the strength of your abilities and how easily you mastered some of the other maneuvers, I believe that a mental barrier exists.”

“And I believe you’re over-reaching,” I spit, anger rising. “There’s no mental block. There’s nothing wrong with my mind.” I turn my back on him, unable to look him in the eye. Since the night of the Rite of Flight, I’ve seen my dead mother more than once. Moreover, I’ve seen him morph into a dragon. Maybe killing a person does that to you. It unhinges you, damages your humanity, drives you insane.

“I must be honest, Skysinger Wyndward… you seem unwilling to correct the issue,” he says.

Rubbing my temples, I will the developing headache to subside. “Of course, I’m not unwilling. I would love to spear some Screechclaws right through the heart just as much as any other Skyrider. I just don’t know why it isn’t working.”

He’s quiet for a long time. I glance over my shoulder to see if he’s still there. He’s looking into the distance, rubbing his chin.

“Perhaps,” he says at last, “it has to do with our accelerated training schedule and the added stress of knowing we are expected in Hearthdale.”

I bite my lower lip, feeling guilty for the worry etched on his features. I take it back. I don’t think I like seeing him be anything but self-assured and in control.

“All right,” he says, seeming to come to a decision. “I know what we’ll do. We are taking the rest of the day off. You and Phoebe may do as you please. You’re also exempt from curfew, so if you wish to fly during the night, you can.”

“Really?!” My excitement is already building at the thought of gaining a bit of freedom after so much demanding work.

He nods, looking pleased with himself.

“Thank you, Vaylen!” Without thinking, I grab his hand and squeeze it.

His eyes rove around, searching for onlookers. I start to release him, but he quickly interlaces his fingers with mine, preventing it. He glances at my lips. For an instant, I think he will kiss me, but he takes a step back, breaking all contact. Disappointment hits me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

I think he’s about to walk away and leave me to enjoy my freedom when he says, “Do you see that peak, the tallest?” His gaze points north toward the Dragon’s Teeth Range.

I nod.

“I will be waiting for you there at midnight. I hope you come. There is one terribly big mistake I’ve been preparing to make. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

With the deep timbre of his voice still ringing in my ears, he turns and walks away, erasing all my doubts. Oh, he hasn’t forgotten his proposal. Instead, he’s been making preparations. By the four winds! I’m instantly aroused.

* * *

My free time is riddled with anticipation. I fly, perched on Zephyros’s head, my hair loose from its oppressive knot, flapping in the wind. While Phoebe performs some of the maneuvers, still practicing during her time off, I force my body into stillness while I let my mind wonder.

The events of the past dozen days whirl in my mind. So much has happened. I graduated from the Academy. I exacted my revenge on Neutro Cindergrasp. I was chosen. Not only that, but I also bonded my dragon. I got away with murder… maybe.

And on top of all of that, there is High Prime Vaylen Stormsong.

He wants me. His gaze holds the blue of a storm-swept sky, and the unwavering adherence to what is right. High Prime Vaylen Stormsong is the steel backbone of the Sky Order, and yet, he’s willing to risk it all for me.

Even though I had changed my mind about making him part of my plans, I needed only a small push to find my way into his arms. A shiver runs through me, and it has nothing to do with the cool breeze blowing from the Dragon’s Teeth.

—What is it you are thinking of? Zephyros asks.

I’ve learned to keep him locked away whenever Vaylen enters my thoughts. Whatever is between me and a man is not a dragon’s affair, so my response to him is only a mental shrug.

—It is that loathsome human, is it not? he sneers.

—Why do you hate Fragor? I don’t think Zephyros will volunteer an answer, but maybe it’ll shut him up. I have a decision to make about tonight, and I don’t need him to distract me.

—We are talking about Vaylen, not him.

—There seems to be no distinction between the two in your mind.

—Oh, there is a distinction. I hate Fragor with the heat of every single star in the firmament. I dislike the human because Fragor chose him, and everything that creature touches is corrupted. You would do well to stay away from Vaylen Stormsong.

Wow! That is some intense hatred. It’s evident in the fervor of his words, but what truly convinces me is the searing feeling of undeniable rancor that comes through our bond. It makes my skin prickle and my stomach churn. This animosity is ancient, and it has been stocked through the centuries into a pyre as blinding as all the stars in the sky. No doubt about it.

—Why? What happened between you two?

I want to know more, want to understand, and…

Suddenly I find myself lost in the labyrinth of his mind. By my mere desire to learn what happened, I’m led through passages made of smoke and fog. I travel to his past, a swath of memories so vast, I can’t wrap my head around it. He has lived many thousand lives from the moment Embernia was nothing but a barren piece of land occupied by savages in loincloths, to the moment we discovered humans and dragons could enhance each other’s powers to fight a common enemy, to now. Ahead, the fog disperses, and I think I will find the answer to my question. Instead, I find a thicker barrier. I reach for it, and I’m slammed backward.

—Stay out! Zephyros bellows.

I fall to one knee, my Tethers adjusting on their own, keeping me from losing my footing and plunging to the ground.

—I’m sorry , I plead. I simply want to understand .

—We all have our closed doors, little one. Yours is sealed shut even to yourself.

I grit my teeth, wishing to argue but knowing I have no right to. I do keep things bottled up. I do refuse to look at my past too closely for fear of breaking all over again.

Rising to my feet, I shut him out completely. I’m angry and overwhelmed, and it’s all I can do to not fall apart. What hurts the most is that his last words were offered with gentleness, not anger. It’s stupid because it shows he cares. I know he does. I feel it through our bond, and it’s yet another thing that has changed in my life. Somebody cares about me. I’m not alone anymore.

That knowledge nearly causes me to break into sobs. I manage to keep my composure, however.

I spend the rest of my free time sleeping. When I wake up, it’s close to midnight. I bolt upright. I have just enough time to fly to that peak—if Zephyros doesn’t refuse to take me. But do I want to go there? Do I want to take this chance?

At the thought of his lips on mine, my pulse speeds up. I can’t deny my body craves him. I want him to fuck me, thoroughly, just like he promised he would. But where will this lead? Any type of relationship between us will always be forbidden. We would be too powerful together, and the King would not feel safe or allow a partnership like ours. If we’re discovered, King Stonefall might order us court martialed, and it won’t matter how powerful Vaylen and I are. The King could order the Sky Order to destroy us, claiming it’s the only way to keep Embernia from a power grab that would plunge it into chaos. He’s already distrustful of us.

Yet, it goes against every fiber in my body to allow anyone—much less such a weak man—to influence my decision.

Throwing my feet off the bed, I stuff them into my boots and lace them up. No one has to find out about Vaylen and me. But I do have to find out how he will feel rocking between my legs. I want that man, and I’m done denying myself. I did that enough at the Academy. Now, there’s no more reason to go without.