Page 72 of Taken By the Fae King

When I open them again, I find Kyven flying beside us. He flashes a devastatingly handsome smile that warms my heart and eases my worry, for I know he will catch me if ever I were to fall. I glance down. The rookery and the castle grow smaller as we ascend. The wind whips through my hair as we spiral up toward the clouds.

Greywind dips to the right and slips into a strong current, carrying us even higher. A strange mix of anxiety and exhilaration course through me as we climb toward the sun. Each beat of Greywind’s powerful wings seems to resonate in my very bones, as his powerful downstrokes lift us higher into the sky.

My apprehension disappears as I gaze at the scene beneath me. The world below unfurls like a lush tapestry, the city of the Fae sprawling before us. It is enchantingly beautiful, and my breath catches as Greywind makes a long, slow arc out over the city.

Lightly, I tug on the fur on the left side of his neck, and he turns back toward the castle, weaving between the thick trunks and branches of Sylari effortlessly.

Several Fae observe, a few of them even bowing mid-flight as we pass.

Greywind flies over the castle, toward the mountain behind it. He flaps his wings, and my heart slams in my throat as we ascend up the steep side, our shadows racing beneath us. Breaking through the clouds, he rushes toward the peak. My pulse pounds in my veins when we reach the top as my fear of heights threatens to raise its ugly head once more.

I quickly force it back down when I see the kingdom of Anlora beyond the mountain. My heart is full at the beauty of this wondrous land.

“What do you think?” Kyven asks beside me.

Nervous excitement thrums in my veins as the thrill of the flight clashes with the still lingering worry that I cannot completely ignore, despite my best efforts to reassure myself that this is safe. “It’s beautiful.”

“Grayce.” Kyven rushes toward me, his hand on his heart. “I can feel your concern.” Reading the small spike of worry through our bond, he quickly sits on the saddle behind me. He wraps one arm solidly around my waist and I lean back against him with a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“You have done well,” he whispers, gently nuzzling my cheek. “Especially considering how afraid you were the first time we flew from Florin.”

A smile crests my lips at the memory. “A definite improvement,” I agree.

With Kyven at my back, my fear disappears entirely. I cannot deny that I’m disappointed in myself, however. I sigh heavily. “I thought I had nearly conquered my fear of heights.”

“Do not judge yourself so harshly,” he replies. “It takes more than a few days to gain mastery over a long-held fear.”

When we land back down at the rookery, Kyven slips off the saddle and then helps me down as well. I loosen and remove the straps and slide the saddle off Greywind’s back. He flexes his wings, and then stretched forward on his front feet like a giant cat before turning his attention back to me.

My heart melts when he gently bumps his forehead against my arm and coos again. I run my hand along the soft fur of his jaw and down his neck. “Thank you, Greywind. I hope that I can ride you again someday.”

“He is yours,” Kyven says. “If you wish.”

I turn back to Kyven, shocked. “He’s mine?”

Before Kyven can answer, Greywind nudges my arm again as if in agreement, his trilling coo growing louder as I run my fingers through his fur. I turn back to Greywind, remembering how Kyven said nylluan understand languages. “You… will accept another rider?” I ask, a bit cautiously because I don’t want to assume.

All doubt leaves my mind as he nuzzles my side and then flops onto the ground, rolling onto his back and looking up at me expectantly. I laugh, because he is so large, it looks almost ridiculous.

Kyven grins. “I think he wishes for you to rub his belly.”

I kneel and use both hands to pet the thick fur of his chest and stomach and his trilling coo grows ever louder.

When Greywind finally rolls back onto his stomach, I lean into the silky fur of his shoulder as I continue to pet him. I love the soft cooing and chirruping sounds he makes as I stroke his fur and the way he keeps bumping his head lightly against my arm in affection.

“This is Deran.” Kyven gestures to a Fae male with yellow wings that takes the saddle from him. The same one who greeted us when we first arrived. “He is in charge of the rookery.”

Deran bows low. “It is an honor to meet you, my queen.”

“And you as well,” I reply.

Kyven turns to me. “We should go. I have another surprise for you this day.”

Although I’m reluctant to leave Greywind, I nod.

“Come on,” Deran tells Greywind.

The nylluan rubs his head against my shoulder one more time before turning to follow Deran back inside the rookery.

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