Page 7 of Wild Bond

She perked up at this and sat on her haunches, a sense of eagerness trickling through me. I took that as her answer.

I settled back against the pillow, absentmindedly stroking one delicate wing as I thought. I was pleased when she didn’t seem to mind.

“Hmm . . . how about Jade? No,” I dismissed it immediately at her narrow-eyed look. “You’re right, too on the nose. How about Jessamy . . . or Galendial?” I asked, reciting two dragon names I had heard before. “Or Severion? That was the name of Queen Lethara’s dragon. Of course, he was a male.”

My dragon just continued to stare at me.

“Okay, fine. No naming you after another dragon.” I threw out several more suggestions, but she didn’t appear to like any of them. None of them felt right to me, either.

I gazed at her, out of ideas. “Any suggestions?”

She blinked a few times, then began sending me images. I knew instantly they were from her memories: sunlight glinting off her wings, the view from a great height as she sailed overhead, wind rustling the leaves of a tree, and a beautiful morning sunrise.

My overall impression from the images was her absolute love of flying. I could almost imagine myself soaring weightless through the air. I couldn’t wait to try—

I shook my head.Focus.

Alright. So, something to do with flight or air . . . My mind snagged on the last image she had shown me, that of the magnificent morning sunrise, its many muted colors bleeding together across a broad expanse.

I was reminded of the feeling I had when I emerged from the dungeons and saw the morning sky for the first time in years. That beauty and sheer aching freedom of an open sky.

A jade sky.

I met the emerald eyes of my dragon. “How about Skye?” I said, my tone subdued and almost reverent.

A shiver passed through her small frame as I said the name, then she lifted her head and crowed with happiness. The sound she made was a mix between a bird’s trill and a growl of satisfaction. Her pleasure at having found a name blended with my own, and I couldn’t differentiate the two in my mind.

“Skye,” I said again. It was simple for a dragon name. Not intimidating in the least, but I loved it. And it was perfect for her, for us.

She began flying around the room in her excitement, and I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me.

“Come back over here,” I laughed. I was amazed how different this dragon seemed from the one I had met in the square. Maybe it was just because we were alone, or because she was comfortable with me, but Skye came off much younger and less . . . dignified than she had in the square. She seemed affronted at my line of thinking, and I instantly apologized. It was strange having someone else in my head.

Skye had just landed at the foot of the bed when the chamber door opened.

My eyes widened, and I nearly swallowed my tongue in surprise as Commander Rakim strode in, his sharp features a blank mask. He was dressed more formally than he had been in the square. He wore a black, thigh-length tunic that hung open over a dark shirt that was unbuttoned at his throat, tucked into black pants and black boots. Those shockingly blue eyes took in everything in the room, including the rumbling dragon at my feet, and dismissed it all before finally resting on me.

My breath held and neither of us said anything for several long seconds as he closed the door behind him. The image of the night he arrested me suddenly appeared in my mind.

“Drop the sword,” he commanded, menace radiating off both rider and dragon.

I made to dash around them when a wall of flames suddenly blocked my path. I threw my arm up and white-hot agony raced across my flesh.

Blinking hard to force the old memory away, I rubbed my forearm before I caught myself and stopped.

He noted the anxious gesture. His jaw flexed when he noticed the old scar there. He was silent for several moments finally clearing his throat before he spoke. “I’m sure you are wondering what’s going on, Miss Darrow. We haven’t formally met. My name is Kyan Rakim. I am Her Majesty’s spymaster.”

“I know who you are,” I said, proud that none of the wariness I felt at being near this man had crept into my tone.

He nodded. “May I call you Corrine?” His voice was low and pleasing with no hint of an accent at all, something I hadn’t noticed in the square.

I shook my head. “No one calls me that. It’s just Rin.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You have caused quite a stir, Rin. No one knows quite what to make of what happened in the square.”

It was then I realized Skye was standing with all fours braced over my lower legs, her wings partially extended, and her eyes on the man who stood several feet back from the bed. And she was growling.

Skye!I reprimanded in my head. The growling stopped, but she still looked alert and wary. The image of the prowling tiger flitted across my mind again as if she was reminding me that he was a threat. I wanted to laugh. As if every cell in my body weren’t aware of that fact. There was something so powerfully dominant and viscerally male about him as he stood there. I could never drop my guard around someone like him.

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