“Sorry.” He ducked his head and Wylde’s eyes softened. They began to walk, shoulders bumping together every so often. Wylde was quiet, her lips pursed together, her brow furrowed in thought. After a moment of silence, he nudged her. “You’re quiet.”
“Thinking.”
“About?”
She met his gaze. “Home. What I’m doing. If I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.”
“I know, but…”
He stopped her, turning her towards him, one fingertip touching her lips, stilling them. “You should go back.”
“What?”
“Jiria’s no place for you, Wylde. They’ll never accept you, just because you’re Reitsch’s daughter. Even if you somehow managed to earn their trust, you’ll never have their respect.” He spoke the truth and though her nose wrinkled in a scowl, he knew she knew it too. His heart wrenched as he took a deep breath. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Believe me when I tell you, it kills me to say this…but you should go home.”
She was silent for a moment. Then: “Home is where the heart is.”
The thought of Bluff sprang to his mind, her childhood best friend, her future suitor; Bluff and Wylde, shoulder to shoulder, heads leaned together as they shared a laugh. A happy smile on Wylde’s face.
Of course.
A bitter taste coated his mouth. He swallowed. He couldn’t blame her for wanting what she had once upon a time, the innocence of children and happy, flirty love. He turned away with a sharp nod, unsure of what to say. What could he say?
“If father won’t let you or the other rogues back into the Nest, where we belong, I won’t go back either.” She was determined, resolute. Stubborn as hell and all the more gorgeous for it.
And not his.
The sand began to burn his bare feet and Kascien started to walk again, his heart and mind torn between wanting to let life go through its terrible pattern of breaking his heart, or to take Wylde by the lips and kiss her and somehow magically change her opinion of who she belonged with. She fell into step beside him and silence bloomed around them, a wildflower in honeyed hues.
“Besides. Even if I wanted to go back…” She shook her head. “I’d go back to Havoc, to a ring on my finger, signifying forever. I love Havoc—as a friend, as a nestmate, but as my future king? Wyverns mate for life and to be tied to him for the rest of my life, unhappy with the decision that was made for me? No one deserves that. I want to be free to love who I want to love. I want to be happy.”
She smiled, but it was sad. “Havoc doesn’t hold my heart gently. He doesn’t cherish me…”
The words sprang up before he could bite them back. They came out like tiny, sour berries on his tongue. “Like Bluff does?”
Chapter Eighteen
All she could do was stare at him, her jaw slacked for a moment before emotion blossomed in her heart in a torrent of anger. She snapped her teeth together with a click and shot him a glare. Why would he even assume that? After all they’d been through together?
A growl trickled up her throat. She tore her gaze away from his and stormed across the sand, her pace jagged. She heard Kascien snarl a District curse, then heard his hurried steps trampling the ground behind her. She sped up. He grabbed her arm and she jerked away with a hiss and show of fangs.
“Wylde, come on. Don’t go away mad,” he said, his own voice tinged with anger, frustration, hurt. She slitted her gaze to him to watch him ram both hands through his hair, fingers catching on snarls and pulling them out with a ripping sound. “Wylde. Damnit. Wait.”
Fine. He wanted a fight? He’d get a fight. She spun on him and jabbed him in the chest with two fingers, the nails curving into claws. “You don’t know who I love and don’t love. You can’t just assume!”
His eyes darkened. “Well, can you blame me? I’ve seen the way he looks at you, his heart an open book for your sappy poetry. Even you said you two had a spark. How should I know that spark hasn’t ignited into something passionate over the last few days? It’s a perfect tale of star-crossed lovers.”
“That was a long time ago! I haven’t seen Bluff in more than three years, Kascien,” she snapped back, arms crossed over her chest. She puffed herself up. Scales tickled the back of her neck, the beast inside riled and ready to spat. She paced along the sand, watching him, edgy. “Things change. People change.”
She took a slow breath, trying to calm her furiously pounding heart. “Maybe in a perfect world, a different world, Bluff would be my mate. But the world will never be perfect. Things have happened.”
“Like what?”
Like finding you, she wanted to say, but she bit it back. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She spun away and took off at a jog, muscles yearning to work, wings wanting to unfurl. Her feet pounded the sand in a rhythmic, staccato beat that wasn’t even close to the thundering pace of her heart. She felt the burn of tears, though she wasn’t sure where they came from.
She wasn’t even sure why she was running, just that she had to. Just that her world felt like it was collapsing, imploding without a sound, a perfect disaster.
Until Kascien was at her side, reaching for her. His fingers curled around her forearm, tugging her to a halt. She stood wavering, panting, and he cupped her shoulders in his hands. He shook her gently. “It matters to me, Wylde,” he said, breathy. “God, it matters more than you can imagine.”
“What do you mean?” It was her turn to feel breathless. The intensity in those moss green eyes was vibrant, beautiful… Her gaze skimmed to his lips for a moment, then back up, feeling herself warm from the inside out.
“It’s crazy, but I can’t get you out of my head. You’re there, every waking minute of every single day. When I sleep, I dream of you; kissing you, holding you. It’s insane—we started out as enemies and now…now I’d like to think we’re more than that. More than friends.” His voice was tight. He paused.
Then: “I think I love you, Wylde Debraux.”
Her heart sputtered, skidded, and halted with a twin groan of organ and blood. Her breath caught and she stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. Kascien…loved her? She wanted to chuckle, laugh it off, but the emotion rolling off his body, soaking her with his heat, couldn’t be ignored. She knew she should say something, but she wasn’t even sure how to reply. What she should even say…?
And she waited a moment too long.
His gaze went from pleading to cold as ice and he let her go, wheeling away. “Forget I said anything.” He bolted, wings spreading as he threw his weight into the sky and went from human to Wyvern in seconds. His fiery scales gleamed in the sunlight, catching her breath as he flew away from her.
“Kascien!” Her voice burst free, breaking through a dam, and she sprang after him. Her wings pounded: Hard, fast, furious beats. She gained on him, rising higher and higher. “Wait!”
He heard her; she knew he did, but he didn’t stop or even slow. He gave another hearty flap, then dipped low, skimming the sand and she knew what she had to do. With a screech, she dove after him, wings curled tight to her body, hurtling downwards with shocking speed.
His eyes widened, pupils a sliver of black in a sea of green, as she collided with him. They fell, down, down, tangling together in a mass of limbs. They spiraled out of control, hitting the ground with a tremendous crash, and Kascien’s breath rushed out of him with an ‘oomph’.
Wylde scrambled to right herself. She pinned him beneath her, claws digging into his shoulders, cupping his hips between her thighs. She could feel the heat of their flight simmering between them, their magic conversing like old friends, maybe fated lovers.
“Do you really mean that?”
His gaze flickered from the crest of her cleavage, to her lips, then skated up to her eyes. He held them. “You know I did…”
Heart skipping, trembling, she closed the distance between them. Her lips touched against his, tentative at first, tasting him for the first time. He was sweet, with an undercurrent of spice and salt, a mi
x of flavors that blended into a divine creation all its own. She felt the vibration of his growl ricochet into her mouth as his hands slid up her sides to her neck. His fingers tangled in her hair, eyes imploring as he tugged her closer.
He met her lips with a passionate ferocity of a man starved of devotion, starved of love and friendship his entire life. Their bodies crashed together like waves as Kascien deepened the kiss, his tongue riding along the seam of her lips. She felt a groan rise in her throat and her hands fisted against his shoulders.
She ripped away and the breath she dragged in was fresh, like taking her first breath into the world all over again. Rebirth. She shuddered and stared down at him and he was hungry for her. Her lips slowly slid to a smile and she pulled away, leaping nimbly to her feet. She offered him her hands and pulled him up, only to kiss him again, this time a quick peck on the lips.
“Damn…” Kascien murmured.
“Yeah. Damn.” Wylde shot him a grin. “And there’s more where that came from, but only after we finish this so-called flying lesson.”
He let loose a low groan and she couldn’t help but laugh at the smile that beamed across his face, bright as daylight against the red sands. Spinning, she took off into the sky, Kascien at her heels, and they let cry shrieks of joy as they soared.
It just felt…right. Like this was the path she was supposed to take.
***
“I refuse to wait any longer. I want my Guardians on the job, now.” Reitsch’s voice was a low bass growl with enough force behind it to make a lesser Wyvern drop their gaze and stand down. “The longer we wait, the more danger my Wylde could be in.” His face twisted into an animalistic snarl. “I’ll kill that boy.”
Havoc cleared his throat. “Sir, she’s probably still angry about being grounded. Taking the entire flight of Guardians will just make her angrier. I’ll go alone, scout for her.”
“That’s my daughter out there, Havoc.”
“I promise to you, milord. I will bring Wylde back, safe and sound.”
When the Wyvern king grunted his approval, Havoc bowed low and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath in, held it for five seconds, then let it out slowly.
Today was the day. The day to meet with the Magi, to trade the dragons for Wylde’s safe return…and for Kascien’s ruin. A slow smile curved along Havoc’s lips as he strode off down the hall, shoes clicking on the marble floors. He climbed the staircase swiftly, taking the steps two at a time, until he reached Wylde’s hallway.
Twisting the knob to her door, he swung it inwards and eased down onto her bed. He gathered her silk sheets in his hands, balling them up to his nose and basking in her scent, desert flowers and residual anger that was spicy in his nostrils.
Soon… Soon she’d be back here, safe within the Nest. He’d wrap his arms around her, holding her tight as she cried for the loss of the fool twinblood she’d gotten too close to. But Havoc would be there for her; he would be there to pick up the pieces, putting her back together, soothing her until she became his beautiful, polished queen. They would rule together. She would be his.
He took to the roof of the Nest, the hot summer whipping humidity through his silver hair. He tied it back in a tight ponytail, then dove off the edge, wings flaring out and catching the air, lofting him into the sky. He headed for the dragon’s keep, playing the scene through his head, the way he wanted it to work out.
He landed and jogged under the sandstone arch signifying the keep. Dragons were all around him, in hues from pearl white to black as jet, their scales glimmering with opalescence in the sunlight. The energies around him swirled with nerves as he stood tall and marched across the dunes.
He came upon a large cluster of dragons and they turned their slit-pupiled eyes on him. Alert. He feigned panic, wiping his brow with the back of his arm, though no sweat had gathered, and stood before them.
“I need your help. Wylde and Kascien—they’re in danger! We’ve gotten word that the Magi are now hunting them down like helpless sandhares. They want the twinblood back…and they’ll do anything to get him. I need help. I can’t let them have Wylde.”
“How did you hear?” A silver-scaled female stepped up and Havoc could’ve grinned: Kascien’s power lingered in her aura, a trickle of red with the stench of raw energy.
“One of the messengers. They’re in the desert. We have to find Wylde and the twinblood before the Magi do…” He paced a small circle. “I need a couple of dragons to come with me. Can you spare any, to save our people?”
Just like he’d planned, the silver dragon’s head bobbed once. “Of course. I am Jaovari, Kascien’s bond. I can reach him mentally, if we get close enough.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Jaovari. But we need more than that.”
A younger male came forwards, wings unfurling to show deadly spikes at the tips, the talons on his feet exceptionally sharp. He was a beautiful dragon, a stunning specimen…and one that the Sovereign would probably kill to have.
“Ileen, are you certain?” Jaovari’s voice was soft as she bumped her head against his. He let out a rumbling sound in his throat and the other dragons drew back, nodding their approval.
“I’m young and fast. I’m stronger than most of the keep.”
“But your hatchlings…”
He shook his spiked head. “The princess is my main concern. I should’ve stopped her from braving the Vanla alone and I didn’t.” He looked at Havoc. “I’m going with you.”
“One more,” Havoc prompted, wringing his hands together in front of him. To his surprise, the nerves were true, not faked at all. Anxiety swelled in his gut at the idea of turning his kin over to the Magi. But Wylde was worth it. Wylde would be his. He steeled himself and pointed to a bumbling peach dragon, one he knew by name. The keep’s resident seer. She would be handy. “Neeve…”
Her head popped up, shock flooding her features. “M-Me? You want me?”
“You have visions, right? We could really use them. You could tell us if danger’s coming, right?”
“Sometimes…” She blinked and glanced to Jaovari, who seemed a little distressed. The older female slowly nodded and Neeve stepped forwards, wings tucked against her body. “Okay. I-I’ll do it,” she said with a nervous giggle.
“Okay. We’re going to set out together, and if Jaovari feels Kascien nearby, we’ll go in that direction. I’ve got a plan, but we’re going to have to stick together for a little while. This might take a little while, but if we get Kascien and Wylde home, safe and sound, it will be worth it. Are you ready?” He glanced around to them, to the three dragons that stood proud, loyal to their kin and loyal to their princess.
If they only knew.
He shoved back another twist of guilt, springing away and taking flight. The dragons loped after him and he kept himself in check, circling around as they left behind the safety of the keep. Their huge strides ate up the red sand beneath their feet until they were in the middle of the desert.
Neeve’s head jerked up, her nostrils flaring, and the dragons halted. Havoc wheeled back, landing with a little more force than necessary. Alarm spiked up his arms. No. They were almost there! “What’s wrong? Do you feel them?”
“I… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.” She threw her head up and scented the air, causing her nestmates to follow suit. “I feel…darkness. We’re walking right into the darkness.”
Havoc frowned gravely. “I hope that the Magi haven’t already found them.”
Neeve squealed a soft whine and buried her face into Jaovari’s chest.
“I’ll fly ahead and scout. Stay here.”
And right up ahead, hidden by a particularly large dune, was the large caravan loaded with silver chains, just like the Sovereign promised. Speckled along the sands were massive black hounds scaled with silver, awaiting their arrival. Havoc scowled. He needed to get the dragons here and fast, before the little seer could prophesize their demise.
Throwing himsel
f into a panic, he flapped furiously towards the dragons. “We have to hurry! The Magi are on their trail!” he barked, the alarm in his voice causing the dragons to snort and growl. Praying to the Goddess, he took off, hoping they’d follow. They did, galloping headlong into the danger zone.
He heard a low, baying bark of a hound. Neeve shrieked, panic coloring her voice black and blue, as the hounds thundered towards them. Jaovari met one head-on, swiping heavy claws at the creature, but the mutant was relentless. He slammed into her side, ripping at her scales. He was massive, with spikes jutting every which way, and empty eyes that glowed an eerie red. Definitely a new strain of Drakehound.
Neeve bellowed a pained cry as three hounds fell upon her, snarls rippling up in torrents. Ileen was battering them with his wings, smacking them away with his spiked tail, but they were faster.
Two Mages appeared from the dunes, silver chains in hand. One was thrown over Ileen’s back and around his neck, dragging him as he hissed in pain. He lashed against them, but with their strength and the power blooming from their fingers, they had him down in a matter of moments.
“Help!” Neeve’s howl rose up, hysterical, as the Magi pinned her with chains, dragging her to the caravan sitting at the edge of the Vanla. The seer’s eyes met his, horrified and wide, when Havoc didn’t move to aid her. He just stood there, a steady numbness taking over his body and mind as he watched the Magi relentlessly drag his kin away. “Jaovari!”
His head snapped to the side to see the twinblood’s bond gallop in the opposite direction. The hounds snapped at her heels and she ran lopsidedly, favoring a leg. She threw her massive body into the air, her wings shaking under her weight, and the mutant dogs bayed at the sky as she flew to safety.
Havoc let out a Vanlan curse, then a District one. “Damnit!”
“Three dragons, Wyvern.” The Mage—Romas—was quickly walking his way and Havoc felt a tug of instinct, to flee, to take flight. “We had a deal.”
“I’ll catch her,” Havoc said smoothly, unleashing his own beast, wings taking shape in place of hands.
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