Page 98 of Veiled Flames
Should I ever choose to return, I’ll return as a dragon rider, demanding respect from my elders. Perhaps I’ll have Xendus punish them for all the things they have done to me. Incinerate them for their cruelty.
Riding a dragon is better than being a prince. Far better.
And through my intense joy, my mind flashes to Rosomon.
Is she watching from below?
As I think of her, Xendus turns, swooping down over the candidates, and I spot her cropped pink hair. Most of the group ducks as we pass, but Rosomon turns her face up toward the sky, her smile bright and full as she watches—a beacon calling up from below.
Another, even stronger wave of emotion floods through me. One so powerful I’m not certain whether it’s mine, or if it originated with Xendus.
But whatever the source, the dragon’s senses are amplifying everything I’m thinking and feeling, heightening my every sight, my every thought, my elated emotions.
And as my happiness expands, all I can think about is sharing this utter joy with Rosomon. Telling her how fabulous this feels. Like me, she longs to ride dragons, and if any woman can achieve that feat it’s her. Even if it’s not possible, I want to tell her how this feels. I want to share my elation with her.
My whole life I’ve sought purpose. I thought I’d found satisfaction when I came here to camp, but holes remained inside me. Holes I now know how to fill.
I know what I want most in life. What I want even more than I wanted to ride a dragon. I’ve never been more certain of anything.
I want Rosomon.
IneedRosomon.
I can’t fully explain why—we barely know each other, and she has every reason to hate me—but I’m beyond desperate to win her respect and affection. Last night, Rosomon actuallysawme, as if she could see my true heart, and I long to retract every harsh word I’ve uttered, to withdraw every threat.
As soon as I land, I’ll go to her. I’ll beg her forgiveness. I’ll grovel. I’ll do whatever she demands, as long as she lets me be near her again.
I’ve never cared about any wench I’ve fucked in the past. Some were more amusing than others, but as long as the lass wasn’t hideous, one served my needs as well as another, but suddenly the only woman I want to be around is Rosomon.
And it’s more than just sexual. Yes, I do want to be her lover—one look from her and I’m hard—but I want so much more. I want to be her friend. I want her tolikeme. I want her to see and accept me—even my dark and horrible parts, of which there are many.
Last night she didn’t cower when I showed her my worst self. Instead of showing fear, somehow she tamed my raging beast and saw beneath my anger.
Soaring the skies on this dragon, I’ve never felt so elated, but as wonderful as I feel at this moment, I don’t think I’ll feel true happiness until I see Rosomon again.
Thirty-Seven
Rosomon
As the dragons rise above the canyon, our class races toward the trail leading back up, all of us eager to reach higher ground so we can better watch them fly.
Tynan did it! He bonded with a dragon. And although I still mostly hate him, although I still detest his family, I’m truly happy for his success—happy for him. And happy for the Seven Kingdoms. We have another dragon rider to defend the veil.
“Over here, you fools!” yells one of the senior candidates.
Stopping, I turn to find their group laughing. As I walk closer toward them, I see a lift, rising up the side of the canyon. We don’t need to climb back up the path. And we needn’t have walked down it either. No wonder the Master Roule got down here so much quicker.
I expect our descent along that challenging path was yet another test, one which thankfully took no lives.
The rest of my compeers follow behind me, even some who’d already started climbing up the long path. After the last of the senior candidates is raised to the top of the canyon, our group gets our turn.
I jump quickly into the two-sided cage with the first group of six. Egon lunges after me and tries to pull me out. But I shake free of his greasy hold as the cage starts to rise.
“Little fucker,” he shouts. “Can’t wait to see you die.”
“Get used to disappointment,” I call back down. Egon’s face reveals more cruelty than Tynan pretends to possess.
Egon’s friend Amis slams his elbow into me, hitting right over one of my bound breasts. I wince at the pain, and Amis grins. I’d never wish anyone dead, but if Amis or Egon dies while trying to bond with a dragon, I’ll not shed a tear.
