Page 68 of Flameborne: Fury
As Kgosi plowed to a standstill and tucked his wings, arching his neck and calling, Akhane responded and rushed towards him from where she’d landed within the walls of the Palace as well.
“This is it, Bren,” Donavyn muttered, his voice quiet now that we weren’t rushing through the winds above. “Now we haveto maintain the façade of professionalism. Are you certain about the plan?”
He sounded grieved. And I felt it in him. The weight of the deceit. The heaviness of hiding. I opened my mouth, but hesitated.
WasI sure?
Yet, while I sat there in my indecision, the Furyknights rushed towards us as the dragons bugled and fluttered their wings, tossing their heads and dancing. I heard Donavyn’s name over and over, and mine mingled among the cheers and shouts. I looked down around Kgosi’s feet to see the Furyknights, red-faced and fists pumping, their eyes alight and fixed on him.
Donavyn.
Their hero.
I swallowed hard. Then I nodded. “I’m sure.”
Donavyn sighed heavily, but squeezed a hand at my waist as he urged me to unclip and held me steady while I extricated my legs from his and crawled over Kgosi’s withers so I could climb down.
I made it to the ground and Donavyn wasn’t far behind me. I took one step back from the mounting strap only to have him slide the last few feet, then land solidly and turn to face me. His eyes blazed as he stared at me for a breath. I felt a glimmer in the bond that rippled through me, then they were upon us.
My heart pounded, half with desire for him, and half with fear at the sudden crush—because we were surrounded by Furyknights and servants, all of them cheering and calling, overjoyed. Donavyn was saluted, his shoulder shaken. I was pressed in the crush, my nerves jangling with all the bodies and shouting voices. But at least the men were mostly focused on him. I had a few claps to my shoulders and back, but my heart raced because of Donavyn’s eyes locked on mine, not because of them.
After a few moments of celebration, and countless calls and shouts asking him where we’d been, he raised his hands for them to be quiet. It took a moment, but finally they began to shush each other, all of them staring expectantly.
“Your welcome is touching,” Donavyn said, his eyes cutting down to me—I stood at his toes because they’d rushed us so quickly I hadn’t had time to move away into the crowd around us. “Thank you for the reception. But I’m afraid—”
“Commander!” The shout was sharp and feminine. A tone that brooked no argument. My heart leaped into my throat as everyone, including me, turned towards it.
“Furyknights! Attention!” Donavyn barked.
We all snapped to attention, even those moving aside to make room for the Queen as she rushed towards him through the crowd.
Every one of us had been trained to bow—or in my case, curtsey—the moment a royal arrived. So, when she came to a stop at Donavyn’s side, the men around us all bent at the waist. But I was pressed right at Donavyn’s toes, with nowhere to go because of the crowd. I attempted a passable curtsey in leathers, but the Queen didn’t even see the rest of us. Only Donavyn.
By the time we were upright again, she was motioning to him and spoke as if the audience was inconsequential.
“Commander, I bring the King’s relief and celebration that you’ve returned safely. But youmustcome with me to his audience. Right now.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth she turned towards the Palace, striding back the way she’d come, the aisle that had been opened between the men widening under her gaze.
For a moment I panicked—she was taking him away! That hollow in my chest that was full of him throbbed and squeezed. But as Donavyn strode after her, he grasped my elbow andpulled me with him. “Yes, Your Majesty. Only, Furyknight Kearney mustaccompany me.”
The Queen stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel, staring at him for a moment like he’d shocked her, then her gaze traveled from his tight face, down his body, to his arm—and the clamp of his hand on my elbow.
“Donavyn,” she said quietly through her teeth. “This isn’t the time for—”
“She has intelligence that isimperativefor the King to hear as quickly as possible. Your Majesty, I mustinsist.”
She blinked. That was it. There was no twitch on her face, or shift in her posture. She showed no outward distress. But I had the distinct impression she was furious.
Her eyes cut to me for a single beat, then back to him. She nodded once, then turned on her heel again, gripped her skirts and marched towards the Palace. “Very well, Commander. I trust your judgement,” she said.
It was an eerie feeling to walk through that honor guard of Furyknights, all at attention, but ignored by the Queen. Then, when we reached the Palace and the guards ushered us in behind the Queen, she slowed until we caught up to her, her striding gracefully on one side of Donavyn, me trotting to keep up on the other.
They were both silent until we’d climbed two staircases and entered a wide, grand hallway that was clearly part of the Royal quarters judging by the number of servants rushing back and forth, and the gilding on the crown molding.
“What’s happened?” Donavyn muttered under his breath, too low for the servants to hear. “I have news—perhaps we’ve learned the same thing?”
“I can’t speak of it here. Come,” The Queen said tightly, picking up her pace. But what surprised me was her casual tone. She’d been putting on that commanding ring when she spokein front of the crowd, but now they were alone, she soundedintimate.
