Page 63 of Wild Bond

Something inside me simultaneously melted and tightened. A jolt of renewed desire coursed through me at his words and the look in his eyes. “Well, I am,” I complained, letting out a disgruntled huff.

He chuckled, and it was a dark, sinful sound. “Believe it or not, my intent in coming here tonight was not to seduce you.”

I couldn’t help teasing him. “Oh, really? So, you came to the bathhouse, where you knew I’d be naked and then stripped naked yourself to . . . what? Just . . . talk?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps my intentions were notentirelypure,” he conceded, obviously not sorry in the least as his eyes trailed down my body. “Though I can’t say I regret the results.”

Rakeremainedutterly,frustratinglyprofessional during our flying lessons the next several weeks, even despite my taunting and teasing. Thanks to his unbending focus, I learned something new every day. Rake taught me how to fight while on a dragon, how to release and quickly strap myself in the saddle, even while flying. We worked on vertical take offs, handling tight spins and sharp turns, and how not to become sick while doing so. My favorite lessons though were the mock battles between Skye and Naasir. He was stronger and more experienced, but she was fast and cunning. We still had yet to beat them, but our skills were improving.

Rake had also taken my words in the market to heart about not having been anywhere outside of Dessin, and had begun taking me all over. He took me to visit nearby towns and cities as well as some of his favorite places in Baldor. One day we even flew for several hours seemingly just to visit a waterfall.

I’d never forget when we crested the hill after landing our dragons. The cool feel of mist brushing my cheeks as the thirty-foot waterfall, spilling into a crystalline pool, came into sight. Rake had confessed that he loved coming here while we sat on a sun warmed rock with our feet in the cool water, watching Skye and Naasir catch fish.

“Are you ever going to tell me who trained you to fly?” I had asked, alluding to that first flying lesson so long ago when he had told me someone had once volunteered to train him.

“Dembe,” he surprised me by answering.

“Dembe?” I repeated. “But he told me he was a weapons instructor before he became your second?”

His expression sobered slightly before he answered. “He was. He volunteered to teach me after the flight instructor at the time refused.”

My brow puckered in confusion. “Why would the instructor refuse?”

“We were still in the middle of a decades long war with Zehvi at the time, and he had a problem with the fact that I was part Zehvitian.”

Oh.Oh.My gut clenched. “That’s horrible.”

“Luckily, my combat instructor didn’t care where I was from and treated me fairly. Pierce, however, who was around my same age at the time, made sure that my classmates didn’t.”

I could only guess what training alongside Prince Pierce had been like, especially if he despised Rake so.

“Despite all that, I began to excel. Pierce hated the fact that I had bonded later, and therefore, had less training, but was just as good as he was. After we passed the trials and began fighting in the war, we were both quickly promoted. I was made a commander and he a general. He earned it too. He may be a prick, but he is a skilled dragon rider. We stayed out of each other’s way for the most part, fighting on different fronts. But then, a few years later, the queen made me her spymaster and appointed me to the Dragon Rider Council. She appointed Pierce a few months later, but he will never forgive me for being appointed first, or for the fact that I am part Zehvitian.”

It was fascinating to finally learn about the source of the feud between Rake and the prince, but I still couldn’t imagine what that must have been like. To grow up being seen as one of the enemy, your loyalty split between two warring kingdoms.

I swallowed hard. “If you don’t mind my asking, what made you decide to fight for Baldor, then? Especially considering how they treated you. Why not Zehvi?”

It was something I had been wondering for some time. Why had he fought so fiercely for Baldor, so much so that he gained himself the fear and respect of everyone in the kingdom? What had happened to make him so loyal?

He stared into the pool for so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer, then he finally said, “Apart from the fact that I was trained here and bonded Naasir here . . . it was because of my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“She was killed in a brawl started by Zehvitian supporters that broke out in the city square. She was stabbed simply for being Baldorian. It was the middle of the day . . . and she bled out in the street. All because that Zehvitian bastard they call a king wanted to claim our kingdom for his own,” he trailed off, shaking his head in disgust. “After I became a dragon rider, I vowed to help end this war in any way I could, and if that meant fighting in it . . .” He shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. I remembered him saying he had only been eleven when she died. Eleven. No wonder he had become such an indispensable force in the Baldorian legion.

“It’s in the past,” was all he said.

We had flown back to Dessin shortly after that.

Rake sent me a summons several days later to come to his room in Rider Tower. And once again, I found myself climbing an ungodly number of stairs to reach his room on one of the upper levels.

Skye simply glided in the air above me with ill-concealed amusement before landing on my shoulder. When Rake finally opened the door after my knock, I spoke before he could even get a word out.

“What is it with you and stairs?” I demanded. “Seems like more of a punishment to put you on the top level,” I huffed, taking several deep breaths to ease the stitch in my side. “Those stairs are brutal.”

His lip twitched as he stood back allowing me inside. “Remind me to have a word with Dembe about your endurance training.”

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