Page 8 of Wild Bond

If he was aware of the effect he was having on me or, well, the entire atmosphere in the room, he didn’t show it. He just stood casually, hands clasped behind his back and those predator’s eyes focused on me. “What do you remember?”

“Everything. At least, until I blacked out . . . after . . . after I bonded . . .” I trailed off. It still felt odd to say it aloud. I was bonded to a dragon.

The thought made me wonder faintly where his dragon was. It was not often that riders went anywhere without their dragons. Though I supposed his black beast could be hiding in his minor form somewhere, but I thought not. The dragon was big enough that his minor form wouldn’t be that small. And I knew next to nothing about Rakim or his dragon, but I doubted hiding was something either of them ever felt the need to do.

Skye sent me the impression of the outdoors, and I realized that she was telling me his dragon was outside somewhere. I wondered how she knew that.

The commander hadn’t spoken while I was distracted, and I noticed his gaze kept snagging on my loose hair. Hair that was now clean and down around my shoulders in my natural waves. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I was in only a nightgown, and for some reason, the fact that I was no longer covered in a layer of grime made me feel very exposed. I didn’t know what to do with my hands and settled on clutching them in my lap.

Skye nestled along my side, her head resting on my leg, eyes still trained on him.

To break the sudden tension, I asked, “What is to become of me now? Of us?” I added, including the small creature currently staring him down. What if he said I had to return to the dungeons? My blood ran cold at the thought. I couldn’t go back there.

He must have seen the look on my face and guessed correctly where my thoughts had gone, and his next words confirmed it. “You will not be returned to the dungeons, if that is your concern.”

Relief warred with confusion inside of me, and for some stupid reason, I found myself protesting. “But, I—”

“I am well aware of your crimes, Rin,” he cut me off, his voice cold. “But neither the queen nor I are in the habit of throwing away a dragon rider when they appear, no matter their age or background. One well-trained dragon rider is worth their weight in gold during combat and in a thousand other ways.”

I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. “So—so I will become a dragon rider then?”

He contemplated me for a long moment. “Yes. Though I have no doubt the council will still want to have a say in it.” He nodded down at Skye. “That dragon shared her bond with you. It is done. You are a rider now. Nothing I or anyone can do will change that fact.”

His voice held a finality that both terrified and thrilled me. And I couldn’t tell by that last statement whether he approved of my becoming a rider or not. And why did I care what he thought?

To distract myself from the unsettling notion, I asked, “Where am I? How long have I been here?” The single window in the room was at the wrong angle for me to see out. I couldn’t even hazard a guess other than it was day.

“We’re in one of the trainee barracks’ in the Rider Tower compound. You have been unconscious for a little over a day.”

My mind whirled. Riders had their own walled complex in the upper city just a few minutes’ walk from Graystone Keep, known as The Tower. I had walked along the outside several times but never seen the inside. It was too well-guarded. All dragon riders who lived in the city had a place in The Tower, and it was also where the prospective riders were trained. Which I suppose was what I was now.

“You are not a prisoner here, Rin,” Rakim stated, “but that being said, until you and your dragon are trained, you will not be allowed to leave The Tower unless another rider is with you. Normally this would not be a concern, but considering your history—”

“I’m not planning on running,” I told him honestly and I wasn’t. I wasn’t going to ruin this opportunity. And it wasn’t like I had a home to escape too anyway.

Still, I couldn’t tell if he believed me as he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “. . . and the fact that your dragon is fully mature, it will be safer for all involved if there are some rules in place.”

I pondered what he had said and was surprised to find I agreed with him, for now at least. I understood that they couldn’t very well have a fully grown, bonded dragon and an untrained rider running around in the middle of the city. It came down to whether they trusted me and my influence over this powerful creature next to me. And from what they knew of me, they had no reason to. Yet.

“I understand,” I nodded firmly. But then I thought of something else and couldn’t help but ask him. “How old do you suppose she is?” I said, gesturing to my dragon.

Rakim considered for a moment. “Dragons have life spans much like our own and are physically mature at around ten years of age. The Jade Dragon has been coming to the celebrations nearly as long. So, I would guess she is somewhere close to her second decade.”

My eyes drifted to Skye, wonder filling me. “She’s the same age as me,” I murmured aloud.

“That’s not uncommon,” he surprised me by explaining. “A dragon’s age and temperament often mirror that of their rider.”

The idea fascinated me. I was about to ask him another question when I stared down at my healing wrists and felt my brow pucker in confusion. They were dappled with yellowing bruises that looked several days old, not as if I had gotten them only yesterday.

He noticed where my gaze had gone and explained, “Accelerated speed, strength, and healing is a benefit of the bond. You cannot command magic of your own, but sharing a bond with a dragon allows you to access their magic in subtle ways.”

I put my hand on Skye’s warm back as it rose and fell with her even breaths. She wasn’t asleep, just relaxed.

“Can she understand me?” I asked. “Language, I mean.” I thought I had heard a word from her when I first woke, but after that she had communicated only in images and emotions.

“Dragons are extremely perceptive and intelligent, but wild dragons don’t appear to understand language. Bonded dragons, on the other hand, seem to understand most language but rarely speak in words of their own. Some riders believe this is due to the connection to their rider. But each bond is unique. Only you two can determine what it will be or how you choose to communicate.”

As I mulled over what he’d said, my eyes drifted to that exposed bronze skin at his throat and the hint of black ink peeking out from the unbuttoned collar there.

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