Now, as her wings beat the air, with Kascien clamped gently between her claws, she felt hope for the first time since she’d left the Nest. She’d lost track of the days she’d been trapped, but it didn’t matter now. She was free. They were free.
Without Kascien, she never would’ve made it out alive.
Finally, the red sands of Vanla were visible, the summer breeze whipping along the dunes. Her heart gave a leap in her chest, a churn of excitement, and she had to steel herself to keep from doing a dive of joy. Kascien wouldn’t enjoy that much. The boy already seemed more than a little shaky at their current height. The thought made her laugh, a husky sound in her throat, and Kascien gave her leg a whack with his fist.
“Careful Kascien, else I drop you and let the sandwyrms have their wicked way,” she teased. He cursed up at her, but she soared a little lower to the ground, if it might make him feel better. She owed her life to him.
He’d risked his life to save them and he had her word—as soon as they had a night’s worth of sleep, she would petition his ability to become Wyvern and erase those horrible spells etched into his skin. Until then, he would never be free, not even if he deserved to be.
Her head jerked up as a piercing shriek sounded through the air and she saw two Wyverns circling just yards ahead. Their minds were linked and amidst a buzz of static, she felt their curiosity, but also their wariness. They were ready to defend their territory.
Wylde gave a joyous shrill back, zipping towards them as she offered them an image: Them, flying together in peace, their wing tips grazing one another. A moment later, she was enveloped into their flight pattern and she couldn’t help but grin.
“Your father is worried sick,” the dark-scaled male, a guard called Kleine, said as he banked beside her.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make anyone worry, but it’s okay now. I’m safe.”
“They let you go?”
“Not…exactly? I’ll explain once we land.”
The other Wyvern sidled up, a smirk on his face. Haiden was one of her less-favorite suitors, a bully if she ever knew one and not someone she’d ever choose to be king.
“Dinner of human, princess? Your tastes have really changed. Sandhare too good for you?” He leaned in to smell Kascien and Wylde hissed a warning, hoisting the boy closer to her despite the twinge of exhaustion in her legs.
Haiden backed away with a chortle. “I get it. He’s yours.”
“If they didn’t let you go, how did you manage to get free?” Kleine asked after several minutes of silence.
Wylde heaved a sigh. “I just wish to return to the Nest. I’ll tell the tale of our escape once I am fed, bathed, and have had a full night of rest.”
Her voice was firm and both males shut up immediately. Kleine gave a nod, his eyes lingering on Kascien for a moment longer before he flew ahead. Haiden buzzed after him and the males spiraled towards the village of Haven.
Wylde’s heart floated like her wings in a thermal. She was almost home.
Her village was a small town of little stone buildings, markets, and cobblestone paths that could withstand even the strongest of dust storms. The biggest building was the Nest itself, the place where all Wyverns gathered at night to rest together among their clanmates.
Dipping down, Wylde gently deposited Kascien in a small dune before her own feet found the warm grit beneath her.
Never before had she been so happy to see sand. Dropping to her knees, she buried her hands—now fully human—into a dune just to feel the roughness between her fingers. Kascien laid where he landed, looking pale and more than a little disoriented, and Wylde crept slowly up to him.
“We have arrived,” she said. He looked up at her and smiled a weary smile that made her heart tremble in her chest. Reaching out both hands, she helped him to his feet and together they made their way towards the Nest.
As soon as they set foot on the main floor, the doors swinging in to announce their arrival, she was mauled. She felt Havoc’s strong arms encompass her, squeezing her too tightly, just like always. She squeaked, but it was filled with laughter as she hugged him back around the neck.
He was tall and broad, his skin a rich bronze and his hair the palest shade of silver. He was her foremost suitor and the way he was holding her brought a blush to her cheeks.
“Wylde.” His breath blew hot against her ear. “We feared the worst.” His voice was gruff, but filled with relief. She caught Kascien’s frown and quickly disentangled herself from Havoc. Her suitor raised an eyebrow. “And you brought a…human with you?”
“Havoc. This is Kascien. He’s the reason I escaped,” she announced. The other Wyverns who had gathered around peered at them curiously. Most of them had probably never left Haven before, unlike Wylde and many of the Guardians. Kascien ducked his head and scuffed the toe of his shoe across the marble floor, looking out of place.
“See to it that he is bathed, fed, and given noble quarters to rest in. Treat him with respect.”
Manji, one of Wylde’s childhood friends, stepped forwards and offered a slender hand to Kascien. He glanced to Wylde, but when she nodded, his shoulders relaxed a notch and he let the woman lead him down the hall. Wylde watched as he disappeared into the recesses of the Nest, feeling certain he would be cared for, and she turned back to Havoc.
“Without him…” She let her words trail off, then shook her head. “Father wasn’t truly going to trade the dragons for my return, was he?”
Havoc took her by the arm, leading her away from the prying ears of the rest of the Nest. She walked beside him, tracing the familiar steps to the throne room. Havoc’s voice was hushed as they talked through the halls.
“He was. And if you hadn’t been returned to us unharmed, he was prepared to declare war. The Elders have tried to reason with him, but he was beyond the point of listening. It is important that he sees you’re home, alive and well. You…are well, yes?”
Wylde quickly nodded, though she noticed his eyes lingered on the scar on her head. “I’m fine.” Her voice was more firm than necessary. “Let’s go.”
Havoc rapped his knuckles against the door at the end of the hall. “It’s Havoc, sir. I bring great news.” There was a noise on the other side and he quickly pushed the door open.
The throne room was large with a tall ceiling, decorated in reds and golds—royal colors, but also the colors of King Reitsch’s scales. Wylde’s heart hammered as she caught sight of her father sitting at the head of the table, his hands clasped in front of him. When his topaz eyes landed on her, he lurched to his feet with a gasp.
“Wylde?”
Wylde met him halfway, lunging into his arms with the softest of cries. Tears burned her eyes and she let them burst free. His rough hands smoothed down what was left of her hair, stroking her face, touching her shoulders. “You have returned? How did you manage? Did they set you free?”
“One of the Magi’s slaves helped me, Father,” she said, wiping her face with the backs of her hands. She took a deep breath in. “I’ve brought him home with me. It was the least I could do.”
“Human?”
“…Slightly?” She paused at his frown. “He has the faintest touch of magic, but even he was hated by the Magi. He was bound a slave as a child, Father. I couldn’t leave him there. They have no mercy. They would’ve killed him.”
“Is he safe?” Her father puffed himself up, fiery scales gleaming on his cheeks.
She nodded quickly, fearing what her father might do to an enemy slave that he deemed a hazard to his clan. “He’s safe. I’ve spent time with him. He likes to talk big, but he’s soft at heart. I promise you, Father. No harm will come to us. I just…I couldn’t leave him behind.”
Reitsch took her in his arms again, crushing her to his chest and giving one last squeeze before releasing her. “Good. I will recall the dragons, intercept the messengers, and bring everyone back home. You need rest, dear child—you look ready to collapse.”
He took her in, up
and down, and his hand reached out, as if to touch the ridge of scarring on her scalp. Then he shook his head and let his hand drop. “Sleep well, my Wylde.”
Wylde reached up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek, then turned back to Havoc. Her suitor offered his arm, which she took, as the world was becoming a little dizzy, and they left the throne room.
Her mind traipsed back to Kascien. He would be safe here. They’d make him safe. But Havoc’s voice broke into her thoughts, turning them doubtful.
“Humans don’t belong among us, princess. You know that. Especially not one with a hint of magic. He is used to his Shining Cities, not our quaint desert town. He won’t be happy here and unhappy humans can be as destructive as an unsupervised hatchling.”
“Things will work out, Havoc,” she said. She tugged her arm free and turned. “I’m going to wash up. I’m sure I’ll feel better after a hot bath.”
“Dinner will be arranged in the banquet hall for you, princess.” Havoc reached out for her hand, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles before he turned away. He strode off and Wylde watched him go, her heart sinking.
Kascien would work out. They’d make it work. He would be safe. If she had it her way, he would be Wyvern. It was only a matter of time.
She found her private chambers already readied for her, the bath steaming with a soft sandalwood soap frothing along the surface. Shutting the door behind her, she stripped off the Magi’s hospital gown and slid into the tub. The heat sucked at her, dragging her in. She sunk down to her nose, sighing as her tense and aching muscles began to unknot and relax.
She opened her eyes for a moment, glancing across tile to the full length mirror hanging on the opposite wall, and her reflection startled her. Her skin had become pale, her eyes sunken in with dark circles running beneath them. She looked like a war victim with the shaved head and the scar. She looked exhausted.
She scrubbed her skin with a soft cloth until no more dirt would come off, sudsing up what little hair she had. She rinsed under the spray of water and then stood up, careful not to slip, wrapping a plush towel around herself.
Padding across the floor and leaving a trail of water in her wake, she dressed in a long burgundy gown that one of her nestlings had laid out for her. She forwent the silk slippers, relishing in the feel of the cool tile against her bare feet. Then she reached for the doorknob. And paused.
Dinner could wait.
What she really wanted was to see how Kascien was faring. To make sure he was okay. Not that she suspected he was in danger or anything, but still…she wanted to make sure. Her heart gave a strange flip in her chest and she frowned at the feeling of such…possessiveness over the human, but she passed it off as exhaustion. He’d saved her life—she was allowed to look after his.
Turning on her heel, she climbed the winding staircase, her footfalls silent on the stone floor. Resting her hand on the doorknob, she paused for the briefest of moments, then pushed the door open and the sight of Kascien took her breath away.
***
He was stretched languidly on a large bed, his head propped up on a down pillow and his fingers laced together, palms down on his flat stomach. He wore only a pair of earth-toned slacks that made his fair skin seem even creamier, though his upper arms had angry splotches of red-purple from her talons holding him for so long. His dusty hair was slicked back, still wet from his bath. The strands that were already dried fell into his face carelessly.
He cleaned up nicely. Wylde couldn’t help the blush that crept across her cheeks. She had never looked at him the way she was looking at him now and it was like she was seeing him for the first time.
He glanced her way as the door clicked shut behind her and a tired smile lit up his face. “Hey, you’re clean. Now you just need to grow your hair back and maybe you’ll look semi-normal.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Wylde rolled her eyes. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Looks like even a rat can come out looking like a prince with a little care.” He stiffened at her word choice and she felt a rush of regret rise to the surface.
“I… I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly, dropping her gaze. “I just came to see how you were faring. Do you feel up to eating? Havoc seems to think the banquet hall will have a feast celebrating my safe return.”
Kascien seemed to shrug it off. “You guys don’t eat, like…raw meat, right? No offense, but you are part dragon.”
She snorted. “Sometimes, when we’re hunting on our own, but I can assure you that the Kiir’vanan cooks serve food one hundred times better than those tasteless packages of dung they served us in Esperidion. Raw or not.”
Kascien chuckled, sitting up in bed and pulling his knees to his chest. He looked so much younger, so much more…vulnerable when he did that. It made Wylde want to reach out and hug him, assure him that everything would be okay. “Hey. They’re not that bad once you eat about three hundred of the things. They kind of grow on you.”
“No, they grow in you,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “Not even fit for animal consumption.”
“The drakehounds think it’s a great treat.”
Wylde frowned as his words sank in. The hounds. They’d left the hounds behind, trapped in cages of silver. She wanted to free them, but she didn’t cherish the idea of being captured again. If she went back to Esperidion, that Sovereign would kill her for sure. A shiver traced down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself, the air on her bare arms suddenly chilly.
Kascien seemed to notice the change in mood, picking up on her tension. “They’ll be okay,” he said softly, ambling to his feet. And then he reached for her. His hot fingers brushed her arm and Wylde looked at him. She found herself immersed in the depths of his moss green eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, then two. She didn’t want to look away—No. She had to. She broke contact first, glancing down at his hand on her arm.
“We’ll go back for them.”
“No,” she said, a bitter taste in her mouth. “If we go back, that’s the end of us. I don’t have the energy to escape again and I’m sure your Sovereign would chain you somewhere he could keep an eye on you. It’s not worth it.”
Kascien shook his head and backed away. They stood there, awkward for several moments as the silence ticked by. “The Sovereign would throw me in the Hall of the Forlorn,” he said finally. Then he paused, looking stricken.
Wylde frowned. “What?”
“Vik… The Sovereign will find out that Vik let us go.” He began to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. “Vik will be punished because of me. Damnit!” He spun on his heel, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. Wylde could do nothing but watch him pace back and forth.
“Vik wouldn’t have done it had he not felt he needed to.”
“I know. I just feel that through all these years, he was the only one who knew me. He got me, you know? He always let me out of my punishments early if I’d done something to piss the Sovereign off. His brother hated me, but Vik was almost…” He trailed off with a sigh.
“A friend.”
“Yeah. A friend.” After a moment, he huffed out a breath and straightened up. “Okay. Let’s go eat something. All of a sudden, I’m starving.”
Wylde grinned, offering her arm. Kascien glanced at her, a hint of confusion in his eyes, and she had to laugh. She looped her arm through his and tugged him towards the door.
He hesitated. “Should I put a shirt on or something? Is this a formal affair?”
She smirked and let her eyes trail up his legs, her gaze flitting across his bare chest. Her eyes lingered on the winding spells etched into the skin around his neck and right shoulder before meeting his eyes once again. “No need. No one will find you excusable and besides…” She smiled at him, a little wicked around the edges. “The girls will find you attractive.”
Kascien snorted, but Wylde could’ve sworn she saw the faintest of red splotches dance across his cheeks. She tugged him down the stairs, their bare
feet thumping on the marble stone. As they drew closer to the banquet room, the heavenly smells of a feast began to waft through the air, infiltrating Wylde’s nostrils in a way that made her stomach clench painfully. Besides those tasteless Magi meals, the last thing she’d eaten had been the deer she’d hunted.
The banquet hall was large and bustling with people. Trays of food lined several long tables, silverware and fine china laid out at each place setting. She felt Kascien pause and take in a sharp breath, but she only allowed him a moment to collect himself before pulling him to the head of the table, where her father said proper at the end.
“Father.” She smiled. “Meet Kascien. Kascien, this is my father and Kiir’vanan’s king, Lord Reitsch.” Her voice swelled with pride.
Kascien bent low in a bow. Reitsch offered a pleasant smile and motioned to the two seats beside him. Kascien sat and Wylde took the spot between him and her father. Just in case. Havoc sat down the row a few spaces, watching Kascien with curiosity mixed with…was that jealousy? Wylde shot him a glare, the hair at the back of her neck prickling.
Damn, girl. Cool it, she chided herself.
Reitsch stood, scooting his chair back away from the table. Everyone who was seated looked up as he chimed his spoon on the edge of a wide-rimmed glass. “We gather, my friends, my family, to celebrate the safe return of Kiir’vanan’s heir…my daughter, Wylde.”
Wylde stood and bowed her head, unable to help the grin from spreading when people began to clap and cheer. A few of them chanted a prayer in Vanlan, their voices mingling beautifully.
“Thank you, nestlings,” she said. She caught Kascien’s eye and smiled down at him before returning her gaze to her clan. “I have managed to escape the Magi, but it would’ve been impossible without the help of Kascien.” She reached down and pulled him up to stand beside her. He shifted his weight—she could smell the nerves billowing off of him in waves, so she patted his hand.
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