Page 60 of House of Ashes

She fell out of my mind completely as I launched up the stairs to the flight terrace, aflame with curiosity over what surprise Rhylan had planned.

All I knew was that it involved flight. A long flight, if the packs Viros was attaching to the harness were anything to go by. They were stuffed with provisions, water…and two bedrolls, attached with buckles.

The dragon himself emerged from the storage room, already stripping his shirt off.

“Rhylan?” I whispered disbelievingly. “Today?”

He looked up at me, his expression slightly guarded, and nodded.

Deep down, I’d wondered if his promise was empty. If it’d be weeks before he’d consider bringing me home, or if he’d put it off until after the First Claim, when we’d potentially be embroiled in war.

I should have known better.

I needed to give him far more credit than I had so far, because he’d proved he was the kind of dragon who made promises and kept them. Since he’d plucked me from Mistward, he had given me everything I’d asked for…and in return I’d been treating him like a plague.

Shame rose in me, followed by mortification. He deserved a far better partner in this charade than me.

Without giving myself time to second-guess, I strode across the terrace and threw my arms around him. I buried my face in his chest, squeezing him as tightly as I could.

“You are the most dazzling, charming, good-natured dragon I have ever had the pleasure to meet, and if anyone claims otherwise they’re a filthy liar,” I growled against him.

Rhylan had hesitated, but he wrapped his arms around me, chuckling. “If I’d known this was the response I’d get, I would’ve done it much earlier,” he teased.

“No, you wouldn’t have. Let’s be realistic.”

“You’re right.” He paused, his warm hand resting on the crown of my head. “I have doubts about today…but Kirana assures me you’re well ahead of schedule for feeding up, against her wishes, and it should be an easy flight. We haven’t heard any word of Yura and Tidas in the eastern territories, but there’s always a chance…”

“There’s a chance even here,” I told him, relaxing my grip enough to look up at him. “Nowhere in Akalla is safe. We risk being found out every time we step foot outside your eyrie.”

Rhylan gazed at the harness, brow furrowed again. “No, nowhere’s safe. So we’re going to do what you need.”

“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. I know you don’t like it, but I…more than anything, I need to see it.” I swallowed hard. “It’s more than just my Ascendant, or my selfish desires. I can’t keep going without knowing what’s happened to my people.”

“I’d feel the same way. And I should have seen it sooner. If you need this, you need it. That’s all there is to it.” He looked down at me, then squeezed my upper arms and released me.

A pang of rejection struck me, which was…utterly ridiculous. Even Viros was watching us askance.

I shoved away the hurt, pretending I didn’t feel it at all. I didn’t deserve to feel it, especially after all the vitriol I’d spat at Rhylan from the first moment I’d stepped foot into his eyrie.

Gods, that thought made me cringe, feeling smaller than the tiniest insect. I’d doubted that he’d asked the Drakkon to free me, but now…I did believe that he must have.

And even after telling me the truth, he’d dealt with the scorn I heaped on him without returning it in kind.

I had no right to feel hurt if he turned away from me. I’d turned away from him countless times.

But my emotions didn’t want to accept the rational; they wanted to scream and rage that a dragon had turned aside when all I wanted was—

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to watch Viros instead of Rhylan’s muscled back, gleaming with scales. I did not want to mate bond with him; for gods’ sakes, the draga primal emotions were getting to me.

Pull yourself together. Maybe you can be friends at the end of it.

It was a little gut-wrenching, how…bland that sounded. Even the title of Dragonesse didn’t sound quite so appealing without the idea of a courageous, loyal Drakkon at my side…

I pinched my arm surreptitiously, focusing on that pain. If Kirana could create a sludge that would put the meat back on my bones within weeks, surely she could create something that would tamp down the hormonal drive of an unmated draga. I made a mental note to ask her if something of the sort had ever been attempted before.

Because if I was going to survive for months—potentially more than a year—in close proximity to Rhylan, something would have to be done about this. He’d made it plenty clear that although he didn’t wish for me to be exiled, he didn’t particularly like me, either.

Even before, when we’d barely had a reason to exchange a word, he’d thought of me as haughty and cold. I imagined that now, starved of any sort of company or affection for years, I was misreading his body language.

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