Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
What is this feeling?
It feels like sunlight under my skin. Like air filling my lungs for the first time. I can almost hear the rustle of scales beneath my flesh, the beating of wings inside my ribs.
Then I feel the Drake’s thoughts—not words, but pictures. Images flooding into my mind.
I see myself standing on his huge foreleg, my hand on his neck. Then climbing, placing one foot, then another, until I’m seated between the spines that run like a ridge down his back. I see his wings opening…the world falling away…and the two of us rising into endless sky.
I realize what he’s doing—he’s giving me an invitation.
“Do you want me to fly with you?” I ask aloud.
The answer comes instantly—not in words, but in a deep, throbbing sense of yes. A wave of joy and anticipation that feels like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. More images rise in my mind—the two of us soaring together…his wings cutting through clouds…his roar echoing across the mountains.
I bite my lip hard, staring up at him. His great golden eyes gleam, watching me, waiting for my answer.
Should I?
My heart flutters. I’ve never flown, before. But I’ve also never trusted anyone this completely. And somehow, I know if I say yes… my life will never be the same again.
28
ELAINA
Climbing onto the back of a dragon is not like mounting a horse.
For one thing, Xaren’s Drake is the size of a rich man’s mansion, if not larger. The sheer mass of him is breathtaking up close—a living mountain of obsidian-black scales that shimmer with hints of deep violet. He shifts his vast foreleg forward, bending it like a kneeling knight offering his hand. His claws are the size of sword blades, but the curve of his massive limb creates a kind of natural staircase.
I hesitate only a moment, then place my foot on the lowest section of his leg. His skin—his scales—are shockingly warm beneath the soft sole of my slipper. Not rough or jagged as I imagined, but silky-smooth and pliable, with just enough texture for grip. They move subtly under my weight, flexing with life. It’s like climbing a hill made of heated silk and muscle.
Above me, one pointed ear swivels back in my direction. The other follows a heartbeat later, like a horse checking for its rider.
“I’m fine,” I call softly, a little breathless from the climb. “Just trying to get settled.”
He doesn’t move—not an inch. His huge body remains perfectly still, his wing partially curled beside him like the edge of a massive obsidian fan. It's as if he's holding his breath, waiting for me to get settled.
I clamber carefully along his shoulder until I find what I saw in his vision—the natural dip at the base of his long neck between two of the tallest, thickest spines. It’s like a saddle—as if his body was shaped to carry someone here. To carry me.
Settling into the hollow, I let out a breath of relief—I made it!
The Drake turns his head, his long neck arching with liquid grace. One massive golden eye fixes on me, filled with a kind of gentle inquiry.
“I’m all right,” I tell him. “It’s fine—you can, er, take off now. I’ll hold on tight. See?”
I lean forward and grasp the curved spine in front of me with both hands. It’s thick and smooth, like a bull’s horn—warm to the touch and easy to grip. I could hang on even in a storm, I think.
Apparently satisfied, the Drake exhales once—a gust of hot wind that sends my hair streaming behind me. Then he turns his head back around and crouches, almost like a cat preparing to pounce.
I feel his huge body quivering beneath me and then…we launch.
The world falls away beneath us as the Drake springs from the ledge, and I swear my stomach gets left behind. My heart leaps into my throat, and the sudden rush of speed is dizzying. I’ve never gone this fast before—not even when Mirabella went crazy and started galloping because of the burrs under her saddle. And I’ve never been this high before either. The cliff disappears in a blur of stone and shadow, and we’re flying.
Oh my Goddess, we’re really flying!
The wind roars past me, cool and wild, tangling my hair and making my eyes water. It lifts my breath right out of my lungs. The Drake’s wings unfurl with a sound like sails catching the wind—a deep, resonant whump that echoes through the air. Each beat of those wings feels like a thunderclap beneath me, propelling us upward in a powerful, graceful arc.
The sky is so big up here. Endless and open, pale blue bleeding into gold as the sun climbs higher. Below us, the world looks like a painting—tiny green fields…toy-sized houses… and the Citadel itself is nothing more than a gray stone blur.