Page 77 of Wild Bond

Air!

My lungs expanded, and I was able to take in greedy lungfuls of cold, life-affirming air. My eyes squinted at the sudden light that poured over me and the strong wind that whipped my hair. I was on the mountain, outside the temple. Rake was holding me. Skye was upset and fluttering around me like an anxious hummingbird rather than the dragon she was.

I took in these details all at once and then dismissed them.

All I cared about for those first several moments was the air—that I could breathe, and the sunlight that was washing over me. I didn’t feel the cold or the fear any longer; I pushed that to the back of my mind where it belonged. There was only the light and the open space.

I was here on Dragon Spear. Notthereanymore. Not again.Never again.

“Rin?” Rake murmured quietly as he set me on my feet. I took a few steps away, and he let me, giving me space.

Gratitude for him, and for what he had done filled me. And a part of me wanted nothing more than to turn and have him hold me in his arms.

But a larger part of me was humiliated.

I couldn’t be here right now. I had no explanations to offer. I barely understood what had just happened myself. I had to get away. Far away.

Skye was right there. In the bond, I begged her to shift, and I was profusely grateful when she didn’t hesitate. The instant she was her normal size, I climbed up and sat on her back. I had no idea where her saddle was, and at the moment I didn’t care.

“Go!” I cried to her, my throat tight.

“Rin!” Rake called, yelling to be heard over the wind as he took a few steps toward me.

I pretended not to hear him. Embarrassment, hot and potent, flooded me as I thought of what had just happened—what he had just witnessed. I couldn’t bear to look him in the eye . . . to see the pity there.

“Go!” I screamed again. And this time Skye raised her powerful wings and launched us into the air.

Mybloodstillracedand my heart still pounded several hours later as I sat on a rooftop in the lower city. Skye’s large frame was wrapped protectively around me from behind. Her large head lay next to me, and I had one knee pulled tightly to my chest, my chin resting on it while my other leg dangled off the stone edge. Skye and I were silent as we watched the nightlife of the lower city pass by below us, my eyes continually returning to the little run-down shop on the corner. Skye seemed to realize I didn’t want to talk but also didn’t want to be alone.

I vaguely wondered what the city-goers thought of a dragon rider being in their midst, or if they even noticed at all. We were fairly well hidden up here in the night’s shadows. But then I realized I really didn’t care, and the thought passed.

Instead, I focused on the cool, subtle breeze as it blew a few errant strands of hair into my face. I didn’t bother to brush them away. I stared at the open sky above me and the glorious light of the stars that shone down, reminding me by that very light alone that I was no longer in that eternal dark where no light could ever penetrate. I wasn’t lying shivering on that cold floor, wondering if I would ever be warm again. I wasn’t surrounded by bars that felt like they were closing in on me, making it impossible to take a deep breath.

Skye whined in distress at my side, and I forced myself to think only of the open air around me and the fact that I was free. I was a dragon rider now. They could never cage me again. I could hop on Skye right now, and she would fly with me to wherever I wanted to go. Even to places where they could never find us.

The thought was comforting.

Skye lifted her head a little and alerted me that we were about to have company. A few seconds later I heard the wingbeats and felt the other dragon land. But I didn’t hear the rider approach until he sat next to me a few feet away, his dark clothing blending in seamlessly with the night.

He didn’t say anything either, and I was grateful for it.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there before I spoke.

“I thought I was past it,” I said quietly, even though my voice sounded loud in the stillness. “That the fear had passed.” I sighed. “What happened today made me realize that isn’t the case.”

Rake said nothing, just watched me. Then those pale eyes regarded the street below as he mused, “Our past pain has a way of coming up and reminding us it’s still there . . . usually when we least expect it.”

Silence stretched. Then I found myself saying, “That shop down there on the corner,” I gestured with a nod of my head. “That’s where my mother and I lived. Or at least, where our home used to be.”

Rake didn’t comment on the abrupt change in topic, and I couldn’t help thinking about the similarities in his origins and mine as I continued, “She died when I was ten. I never knew my father . . . so there was no one else. I was alone.

“Before that, I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t sick. I was obsessed with dragons back then and begged her to take me to the Nest every year during the celebrations to see the bondings. But she was always too ill to go, and she said I was too little to go alone. I dreamed of one day seeing a dragon up close, bonding with one, and becoming a dragon rider. I thought nothing could be better than flying on a dragon. I was sure of it.”

Skye shifted on my other side, and I could feel how intently she was listening. I reached out and stroked her snout absentmindedly. “I had finally resolved to sneak out the following year and see the bondings by myself, whether she wanted me to or not, but then she died.

“Without her, our little hut was taken away from me, and I was forced to live on the street. Luckily, it was summer so the city didn’t get too cold at night. There were lots of other orphan kids like me. I watched them, then eventually worked with them to steal food when the shop owners weren’t looking. But most nights I still went hungry. That was when Safan found me.”

I felt more than saw Rake tense beside me.

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