Page 142 of Unbound

There’s a faint pulse of amusement and pride from Typhon.

I lean down, hugging his neck and feeling the cool slick of his scales beneath my palms. “Thank you, Typhon,” I say aloud. “This is… special.”

“It still brings me joy, too. I am glad we could share it.”

I smile, letting the wind whip across my face as he holds his wings wide, opting to glide and drift, banking gently left and right as the winds carry us.

“Next time, I’ll do some actual practice. This time… I just want to enjoy it.”

“Very well, angry human.”

By the time I return to my room, my cheeks are chafed from wind and cold, but my heart feels full. I’m still smiling as I change into fresh training clothes for my session with Raith, automatically checking my door is still locked—a habit I picked up after hearing about people disappearing from their rooms in broad daylight. I braid my hair tight, telling myself it's only practical, not because I want to look good for him. Wanting things is dangerous here.

Dangerous or not. I know I do want him to notice me—to see me as more than a vulnerability or something to protect.

When I'm not trying to keep him from my mind, I yearn for him to really see me. To see me as a woman. To want me even a fraction as much as I want him. And gods, I know it's in him somewhere. I felt it both times we kissed.

There's no lack of attraction between us, but Raith has done a masterful job of building barriers to keep us apart all the same. And maybe I'm hoping if I look good enough tonight, I can break through a few of them.

I know it's foolish. Our lives are on the line every day. I should only care about training and getting stronger. Wasting time on things like sex is just asking to be killed because I'm not ready when the time comes.

But it's not just sex. It's this feeling, too… like he walks around with so much hurt and pain that it's crushing him. And I feel like the only way he'll ever be able to heal is if he lets someone in. And, yeah… maybe I hope that someone is me.

"Your constant wistful thoughts about mating and courtship distract your mind for far longer than a few hours of rutting would. May I offer a suggestion?"

"No."

"My suggestion,"Typhon continues anyway."Is to bare your flesh to him. My history with your kind has shown the effectiveness of this strategy. Male humans seem particularly fascinated with the milk glands. You could consider presenting them. It would be a subtle sign of your interest."

I grin as I finish fixing my hair in the mirror."Typhon... lifting my tunic and flashing Raith would hardly be subtle."

"Perhaps you would be wise to take my advice. I am centuries old, angry human. I've navigated more relationships than you could even begin to count."

"You mean you've been through more breakups than I can count? If you're as old as you say and still single, then you're the last one I should be taking relationship advice from."

"Damn you."

I laugh aloud, giving him a sympathetic smile."Sorry, Typhon. No offense meant. Well, okay, that's a lie. But I'm sorry if I offended you more than intended."

There's a flicker of amusement through the tether as Typhon watches me from the corner of the room.

As I'm about to leave, I notice something on my desk that wasn't there before. My pulse jumps—my room was locked. But somebody had to get in while I was gone.

The thought makes my skin crawl, but I move to the desk and look at the object.

It's a small, curved dagger with a handle wrapped in red leather. Beside it lies a note in elegant, slanting handwriting:

"For protection. Keep this on you at all times. Bring it tonight and I'll show you how to use it."

Raith snuck into my room? I shouldn't be surprised, but the idea that he could let himself in here any time he likes feels strangely… exciting. He even locked my door again behind him, probably making sure he's the only one slipping into my space uninvited.

I put the thought from my mind and pick up the dagger, testing its weight.

It's perfectly balanced, the blade wickedly sharp. This is no training weapon with its dulled edges—this is the real thing, deadly and beautiful. My breath catches as I realize what this means. First-years aren't allowed real weapons; they're restricted to the blunted training versions until second year. Raith must have risked serious punishment to acquire this for me, though I still have no idea how he managed it.

"Quite thoughtful of the fire human,"Typhon observes."Perhaps he's not entirely useless after all."

"High praise coming from you,"I murmur, turning the blade over in my hand.

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