Page 29 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame (Heir of Wyvara #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
AMEIRAH
A piece of straw jabbing into the side of my neck woke me up. I became aware of scents first—hay and manure and hot iron. Was that the metallic tang of blood? After that came the sensations of straw pressing against me everywhere, comfortable except for stray pieces that had decided to pierce my skin, and… my shoulder was wet, my clothes stuck to me. Was it raining? Had I been left outside? What the hell happened?
I cracked my eyelids apart—and jolted at the huge silver eyes that stared at me, like the world’s creepiest stalker. They were twenty times the size of fae eyes. My breath caught, and I winced at the answering twinge in my ribs. My ribs… fuck, the carnage at Wyfell! The man murdered in the square, the chaos and crush of fleeing civilians, the blast of fire from wyverns circling in the sky. The emerald that had cut me off, knocked me down and… the silver-blue that had saved me. My wyvern.
I had a wyvern. That was insanity. It was impossible. I was too dangerous, too much an abomination to call a wyvern. And yet… here she was, staring unblinkingly at me, her scaly snout less than a foot away from my face.
“I know you saved me,” I said, my voice croaking, my throat dry, “but we need to set a few ground rules. First of all, if you can see all the way up my nostrils, you’re too close.”
She snorted. Her hot breath fanned my hair back from my face.
“Second, I can only assume you kidnapped me from my husband, because he’s a little protective and no way would he leave me in a barn.”
“She took you from my arms and refused to let you go,” the man himself cut in, his voice low and dry but… raspy. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, pushed the straw away from my neck, and manoeuvred myself upright. Varidian leaned against the stall door watching me, his eyes ringed in the same shadows as when he returned from the storm. “There’s no arguing with a wyvern, even for a gentry and fae.”
“Are you alright?” I asked, propping myself against the wall, testing my ribs with slow, small breaths. I felt better than I had when I climbed down from Mak at least. I could have done without the poking straw and the… drool on my shoulder. Lovely.
“Am I alright?” he demanded, his eyes flashing with something sharp and brittle. “You fell off Mak into my arms and then passed out. You have two fractured ribs, three bruised ribs, and I can’t stand to think about how much pain you must have been in the whole flight.”
Each word was bitten off and tight. Angry.
I used the wall at my back to pull myself to my feet. The wyvern helped, nudging her face against me when I wavered, helping me approach the stall door. I stroked her warm scales in thanks, then reached for Varidian, one hand on his shoulder, the other moulding to his stubbled cheek.
“Why are you so angry?”
“Why am I—” His nostrils flared, his whole body as tight as a bowstring. “We should never have gone to Wyfell. I should have flown you straight here where it’s safe—”
“You didn’t know that would happen at Wyfell. There was as much chance of it happening here in the Red Star,” I pointed out calmly, running my thumb along his cheekbone. “We went there for marriage marks; do you regret getting them?”
“Fuck, no,” he expelled on a hard breath. His eyes fixed on the straw-covered floor, so dark I couldn’t see the glitter of topaz in them. “But if we’d waited—”
“We’re alive, Varidian. The same can’t be said of everyone else in Wyfell.”
He shook his head, dark hair whipping his face, striking the back of my hand. “You should never have been hurt. You could have been killed. If we took another minute to find you—”
The wyvern at my side chuffed, as if to remind him she’d been there with me.
“But you did find me, and the bruises will heal in a few weeks.”
If anything, that only made him more furious. His jaw clenched, a muscle fluttering under my hand. “How do you know that timescale, Ameirah?”
I glanced away, pushing down uncomfortable memories by remembering how it felt to be with Varidian last night, how his kisses were feverish and his touches both desperate and worshipful.
“The second our paths cross again, your father is dead. Your brothers are dead.”
“I’m fine, Varidian,” I said firmly, pushing the stall door so I could get out. The wood brushed him not especially hard, but every muscle in his face seized, a sharp breath whistling through his nose. “You’re hurt? Fuck, of course you are, you were caught in the crush, too. Show me where.”
I rushed from the stall and reached for his dark tunic, but he stepped out of reach. “I’m fine. The doctor saw to me, too. I’ll heal.”
I threw up my hands, hiding the tenderness in my ribs when I did so. “So that’s fine for you, but with me it makes you murderous?”
His eyes flashed. “Yes! You are my wife and I will not stand for anything or anyone hurting you.”
Ah, fuck. All my anger drained, leaving understanding and a tight pain in my chest. He’d almost lost me a mere day after losing Fahad. No wonder he was furious—he must have been terrified. As terrified as I’d been to lose him to the storm. I knew how much it hurt, and that was without it being compounded by raw grief.
“Varidian,” I sighed, holding out my arms to him. When he stepped out of reach, it hit me like a wyvern tail to the gut. “You won’t let me embrace you?”
“I’m fine,” he bit out.
Raheema snorted softly in the stall behind us, making sure we both knew she knew he was lying and—holy shit, I knew her name! The sky blue wyvern with the silver eyes was called Raheema. My wyvern was called Raheema. When I stared at her, she slow-blinked.
“I want to learn how to ride,” I blurted out, staring at Raheema as she stretched and settled down on the straw I’d vacated.
“You’re in too much pain,” Varidian shot down my request instantly.
“I wasn’t asking for permission, dear husband,” I said sweetly, giving him a smile laced with warning. “And I wasn’t suggesting today. Even I’m not foolish enough to think I can ride now. But—soon.”
Varidian exhaled a slow breath, relief in the sound. “Alright.”
I gave him a more genuine smile, taking a step closer. “You’re one of the best riders alive. You ride the third-most powerful wyvern in Ithanys. With you teaching me, I’ll be fine. Why are you so worried?”
“About you riding? I’m not exactly.” He rubbed his face with rough hands. I took the opportunity to sneak close and hug him. “But today is too soon after nearly losing you.”
“And losing Fahad,” I said gently, tightening my arms when he tried to pull away. Pain crossed his face, flaring his nostrils, and I let go instantly. “Shit, I’m sorry. No wonder you don’t want me embracing you.”
“Ameirah, dearling, I’d let you do anything to me,” he said, pained. “Even if it causes pain. Even if it causes death.”
“There’s that incorrigible madness again,” I said softly, noticing he hadn’t spoken about Fahad. Worry tightened my chest, and I got the sense getting my husband to speak about his loss was going to be a mighty task. But if he locked all his emotions inside, they’d destroy him. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
Further down the barn, a low rumble came from a stall. Mak. Raheema pushed the meaning of that sound towards me and I raised an eyebrow at my husband.
“Qahwa doesn’t count,” I huffed. “Come on, let’s find some actual food.”
I strode down the aisle and paused, glancing back. I found Varidian watching me with an expression I could only call longing, and… it hurt. Why did he long for me when I was right here?
I held my hand out to him, a sourness in my stomach until he closed the distance between us and put his hand in mine, squeezing tight.
“Don’t push me away,” I whispered. “I know how much you hurt right now. I’ve lost people, too. But don’t push me away, Varidian.”
If anything, his eyes grew sadder. He leaned forward to kiss my forehead, his touch lingering. “I’ll try not to.”
With darkness and grief in his eyes, I couldn’t ask for more than that.