Page 18 of Beautiful Beast

He turned his head away, and I sagged in relief.

Wings raised to launch into the sky, he looked at me again. All the relief drained out of me. I couldn’t move in time. All I could do was scream. Claws broke the stone at my back, tearing away chunks of the wall along with me.

Dizziness crashed down on me as I spun, unable to tell which way was up and which was down. He’d thrown me? Was I about to slam into the mountain and break beyond repair?

Another roar was answered twice more, and close. My trajectory changed. Dipped. My stomach hurled itself into my throat, and I dared to open my eyes and see my own death.

But there was no doom coming to meet me.

Rensara lay beneath me like a map had been unfurled, the river glinting in the sun and the Bowl suddenly visible with every beat of the dragon’s wings as we flew higher.

I was flying.

We were flying.

The blue and black dragons were with us, arrowing straight away from the city I’d always known, with me in tow. Even now, all they had to do was drop me and accomplish what they’d come to do.

But I took the risk anyway, and did what I’d dreamed about since I was a child. I spread my arms like wings and pretended I was the one flying.

And for the first time today, I smiled.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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SIRRUS

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? Endre roared as we flew away from Rensara and the canons of seething scalefire aiming for our bones.

The Gleiran King’s daughter hung from Zovai’s claws, torn dress blowing in the wind, red hair nearly glowing. The red—a vibrant color I’d never witnessed before in a human—shone in the sun. It should have matched the color of her spilled blood on the ground, as was planned.

Where he flew between us, the woman in his claws, Zovai was entirely silent.

What have you done? He asked again, quieter this time.

Zovai shook his head. I… I can’t explain it.

Try. The steel in Endre’s tone left no room for argument.

Endre banked to the south, and we followed, away from the capital. We knew without speaking where we would go now. There was too much risk to bring her straight back to Doro Eche, especially since she shouldn’t even be breathing.

Try, or I will kill her now.

The sky shattered with the force of Zovai’s roar. You will not touch her.

Silence reigned in the aftermath.

The connection between our minds roiled with his restless need to protect and claim. To hide her away like she was a treasure he couldn’t release.

Endre’s mind seethed too. With frustration and anger. I couldn’t blame him. The Elders would lay the responsibility on his shoulders, and he’d already taken too much from them. It was already bad enough that Z had to attack the Craisos royalty, because the weapons they wielded could be deadly on contact, and they got too fucking close.

We will discuss it when we arrive at Skalisméra. I make no promises.

A long silence filled with nothing but the beating of our wings and the wind rushing past.

She wasn’t afraid. Zovai’s voice was quiet and calm. No, she was. But she didn’t look at me with hate. Ran, yes, but when I had her cornered, she only looked at me with kindness. And resignation. As if even though I killed her, she would not blame me. That it would be a relief.

She touched me. Reached out and touched me, and said “please.”

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