Page 67 of Kiss of Frost

She sighed, looking slightly frazzled. “It just never occurred to me that it would upset you this much. I don’t feel like I give up any power when I fly with you.”

“That’s because you don’t have wings.” I had no problem with Graeme’s dominance in the bedroom, although I had elaborate, wide-ranging plans to show him all the pleasures that came with being mated to an incubus. But there was a difference between ceding control to Graeme in bed and allowing him to carry me when I was perfectly capable of flying on my own.

But this was a unique situation. Worse, I’d proved I wasn’t capable of flying to the Oracle. The memory of laboring under the weight of thickening ice, of pitting my dwindling strength against the wind as I tried to keep Georgie on my back, was seared into my mind.

I couldn’t risk her safety again. And I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her chances of fulfilling her quest. Graeme’s dragon was solid ice and impervious to the frost. He was also a battle-hardened warrior. And I was…good at sex. Not exactly the kind of companion one wanted for a dangerous magical quest.

Georgie’s frown deepened. “What is it?”

I shook off my negative thoughts. “Nothing, witchling.” I raked a deliberate gaze down her barasta and tight leather pants. “I was just thinking it’s going to be uncomfortable flying to the Oracle when you’ve got me all hot and bothered.”

She smiled. “I’m pretty sure that’s your permanent state of being.”

“It is when you’re around. Leather-wrapped witch is one of my favorite things.”

She looked down at her pants. “I wore these so it would be easier to grip Graeme’s scales.”

I sighed. “You’re only making me harder.”

Her laughter rang out across the courtyard just as Graeme emerged from the main keep. He wore a bemused expression as he came to us.

“What’s so funny?”

Georgie slanted me a look. “Just Callum being Callum.”

“I think I can guess what it was about, then,” Graeme said.

I smiled, then gave him the same thorough perusal I’d given Georgie. “You look hot.” He blushed as expected, and I sighed again. “Shy bears are another one of my favorite things.”

Confusion clouded his eyes. “Bears?”

“I’ll explain later,” I murmured.

Georgie took pity on him and lifted her backpack from the ground. “I have your clothes here, Graeme. So you have something to wear after you shift.”

“Thank you, lass,” he said. Then he glanced at the sky. “We should leave right away. There’s no guarantee this weather will hold.”

Georgie sobered instantly. “Callum and I are ready when you are.”

Graeme nodded, then strode to the far side of the courtyard. In one beat, he twisted into smoke, shedding his clothes. Another beat, and he burst into his monstrous, pale blue dragon. Ice scattered across the weathered flagstones as he shook himself, his horned tail striking sparks. Blue flames flickered in his nostrils as he swung his head toward Georgie and me. His inner eyelids flashed across his pale eyes, briefly obscuring his vertical pupils. He snorted, then lowered one massive wing to the ground in invitation.

“Shotgun!” I called out, jogging toward him.

Georgie made an angry sound as she hurried after me. “Callum!”

I spun and let her catch up. “I’m teasing, witchling. You sit wherever you want.” Graeme waited patiently as we mounted. When we were settled between the horns on his shoulders, I patted one of his icy scales. “Ready, big guy.”

He spread his wings, raining more ice onto the stones. Then he gathered his haunches under him and shot into the air. Instantly, wind whipped in my face. I gripped his horns as the steep angle of our ascent flung me backward. Graeme’s frigid body seeped through my pants and chilled my skin. Beside me, Georgie hunched low, her dark hair streaming behind her like a pennant. Graeme’s frozen wings beat the air, carrying us higher. The courtyard and the White Gate fell away, and then Gelhella spread below us.

Within seconds, the Oracle beckoned a bright, shimmering blue. Graeme sped toward it, slicing through the sky like a stone loosed from a slingshot. For the first time, I understood the power and might of the Brotherhood. And I realized just how formidable—and modest—Graeme Abernathy was. He flew at speeds I could only dream of, his icy body shredding the air like a hot knife going through butter. Every pump of his wings sent us hurtling toward the Oracle, until my vision filled with its blue glow. A few more seconds of mind-bending speed, and the glow enveloped us. The air rippled, and I knew we were close. Power hummed in my ears. A frozen mountain range appeared below us, its peaks rising from the snow like jagged, white teeth.

I looked at Georgie, who leaned over Graeme’s scales with grim determination stamped on her face. A sense of helplessness gripped me. I’d teased her about solving riddles or playing chess with the Oracle, but the truth was I had no idea what to expect from a mystical, all-knowing entity. Anger joined the helplessness as I thought of the elders of her house putting her in this position. She’d lost her parents. Her father had burdened her with an ominous prediction. And then the very people who were supposed to guide her had saddled her with an impossible task.

But I’d wager they hadn’t anticipated fate matching Georgie with a pair of dragons. Wicked satisfaction spread through me as I pictured showing up at House Blackwood and riling a bunch of tight-arse witches. With Georgie’s permission, of course.

The Oracle’s light swelled. The air itself seemed to shudder, and the sky went black as night. The wind cut out abruptly, like a giant had thrown a switch. My nape tingled as magic rushed around us. Graeme dipped suddenly, and we entered what looked like a hollowed-out volcano. Its soaring walls glittered with ice. The Oracle’s light beamed everywhere. Power brushed my skin.

“It’s a caldera,” Georgie breathed, wonder in her voice as she gazed at the twinkling walls.

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