Page 66 of A Bride for the Winter King
The shape of the dragon’s back allows for my thighs to hold on to each side of its spine, but without a saddle or stirrups, I can’t imagine how I’m supposed to remain in place when it flies.
My eyes bulge, the blood draining from my knuckles and face, my mind screaming at me toget the fuck off this dragon.
“You don’t ride,” Elio says as he climbs behind me.
“I ridehorses.”
And sparingly.
“You’re shaking.”
No measure of urgency can justify this folly. “I need to get off?—”
“Shush. It’s just like riding a horse. Trust me.” Elio adjusts his position with ease and tightens an arm around my waist.He nestles me in the space between his thighs, closer, closer, closer…
A hiccup of surprise quakes me at how warm he feels. The king of ice isn’t quite as cold as he was the other day in the wagon, and I barely resist the urge to relax against him.
He reaches for the dragon’s mane with both hands, caging me in. The hard planes of his chest are pressed flush against my back and swell with each breath—every thunderous beat of his heart racing even harder than my own.
I scream as the dragon extends its wings and jumps straight off the cliff. My lids screw shut, and my body instinctively cowers inside Elio’s embrace without an ounce of shame. The scenery blurs, and black spots dance in front of my eyes.
Tumbling down an ice dragon’s back sounds just like the kind ofaccidentthat could happen to a bride.
“Breathe, little spider,” Elio says, the smile in his voice audible. “I’ve got you.”
That fucker sounds perfectly amused…My mind spins as I try to get a hold of myself.
Elio’s hot breath sears the shell of my ear. “At this rate, the sleighs are going to tumble straight off the mountain.”
I snap my eyes open, my hunter’s instincts kicking into gear. The sleighs are racing downhill, the avalanche gaining ground every second. “That one isn’t carrying a heavy load. Daisy must be on it, and maybe the other girls, too.” I point to the last of the three sleighs. The precious metal and dragon scales give the other sleighs more momentum and less precision than the one carrying the prisoners. Hopefully.
The path leading down the mountain will be overrun by the avalanche in minutes, and the Tidecallers and their sleighs will be swept right off the rocky cliffs.
Elio conjures a chain of ice with his magic. The solid links glisten in the early light of dawn as they wind around thedragon’s chest, forming a secure anchor around its neck and front limbs.
No, no, no, no, no.
Elio guides my hands to the dragon’s mane. “Hold on tight. And whatever you do, stay on the dragon.”
With that, Elio grabs the free end of the chain and leaps from his mount, swinging from the dragon like a furious pendulum. He impales a soldier below, causing the enemy driver to topple off. Elio then lands on the sleigh, takes the driver’s place, and yanks the tarp off the cargo.
It’s the right sleigh. Daisy’s hair is visible, but she’s either tied up or unconscious because she’s not moving. Elio steers the wolves to a complete stop, the animals obedient even though they are about to be swallowed whole.
He ties the chain to the sleigh and signals to his dragon with a sharp whistle. The beast perches atop the tallest nearby pine, about halfway up the tree. I hear its jagged claws splintering the bark, the sound harsh and unsettling as the tree shudders under the dragon's weight. My feet slip from the spikes on its side, and the fine hair of the dragon’s mane digs into my hands, my legs dangling above the approaching storm.
I hang from the dragon’s neck, the nearly vertical angle making my muscles scream in agony, but I manage to hang on. The quietness I find whenever I hunt engulfs me, my shadows pulsing over my skin as I force my thighs back around the beast’s body and squeeze, relieving part of the strain on my arms.
The dragon clings to the thick conifer’s trunk with its talons, the ice chain Elio fashioned wrapped tightly around its thorax. The avalanche roars past the edge of the cliffs in powerful torrents, ready to take its passengers straight to the gods. Clouds of snow and white smoke swirl around me, and flakes of ice stick to my lashes, blurring my vision.
Trees crack and bend under the force of the avalanche, the pine we landed on resisting the onslaught of ice—for now. The rolling thunder tapers down, and my vision clears a little, allowing me to see further down than before.
I search for Elio in the chaos and find him dangling from the curve of the sleigh’s front bow, his hands gripping the wooden arch of the shaft. His feet are stuck in the current of the avalanche, its unstoppable pull dragging him down. A pain-filled grimace twists his lips, and his biceps strain with the effort to keep himself above the fray.
He’s not going to last much longer.
I carefully slide down the dragon’s back and past its backside, holding on to the ice chain, until my feet find footing on the sleigh’s steering shaft.
“Get back up there,” Elio grits through his teeth, his eyes dark and full of reproach.
