Page 11 of Skyshade
Grim tried and failed to hide his laugh as he watched her from across the clearing. “He’s still getting used to his size.”
Wraith huffed, as if he could understand Grim’s words. Then the dragon proceeded to do the last thing Isla expected, which was lazily roll onto his back.
Grim sighed in a long-suffering way. “Insolent creature,” he said. Then, Grim did the last thing she expected and began rubbing the dragon’s stomach.
Wraith’s foot moved wildly in delight, and Isla watched with her mouth dropped open.
Grim shrugged a shoulder. “It was easier when he was the size of a shield.”
“And how exactly did he become the size of a hill?”
Grim continued while he turned to face her. “It was difficult returning without you,” he said quietly. His voice told her difficult was a mild way to put it. “We missed you.” He looked at Wraith.
“You bonded,” she said, in awe, thinking of her own connection with Lynx.
He nodded. “It was what he needed to grow. It happened rapidly.”
A spike of happiness shot through her at the thought of them both finding such a bond. Leaning on each other.
It quickly withered when she remembered why, exactly, he had returned without her. He had taken away her memories. He had left her out of his plans. He had made decision after decision without her.
He seemed to sense her shift in emotions, because his tone turned serious. He walked over to her and did yet another unexpected thing. Slowly, gaze never leaving hers, he went on his knees and bowed his head before her. He was so tall, his eyes were level with her chest. “I’m sorry,” he said. “When I returned, I regretted taking your memories away every day. It was my fault this all happened. I—all I ever tried to do was protect you.”
“By lying to me?” she said, her voice sharp as the blade on her thigh. “By turning me into some pawn? Some clueless puppet?”
“I didn’t—”
“You did,” she said. “You did over and over again, and I trusted you, like an idiot.” He lurched back, as if her words had burned him.
Isla closed her eyes. She wanted to leave him here, on his knees. She wanted to tell him she hated him.
But his regret, she realized, she could use to her advantage.
“If you’re truly sorry, then swear you will never work behind my back again. Swear you will never enact a plan without telling me. Swear it on our marriage.” She gripped the stone around her neck.
Grim rose to his full height. He pressed his hand over hers, on the black diamond that now always remained visible. “I swear it, heart.”
Words meant little, she knew that, but she could see the regret on Grim’s face. She knew how much their marriage meant to him.
She hoped it would be enough to keep him from razing the world, simply to keep her.
They were supposed to be working together. “You said the storms brought deadly creatures. Like what? Where?”
“I can take you to a place that was hit particularly badly tomorrow, if you wish.”
She nodded. She wanted to see it. She wanted to understand the storms and the devastation that was coming for them.
She wanted him to be distracted from her own plans. For, as they flew back to the castle, Isla watched Grim’s movements carefully. The placement of his hands. The scales he touched, in a wordless communication with Wraith. How he bent low against the wind.
She watched, because she had just discovered her way of finding Cleo.
Grim could have portaled them to the village in half a second. Instead, she asked if they could take Wraith.
“Do you—do you think you could teach me to ride him?” Her tone was casual. Curious, even.
Isla expected him to see through her, to realize she must have an ulterior motive if she actually wanted to learn to fly the creature that had made her nearly retch just the day before. Instead, he only smiled. Something about that made it feel like a blade was scraping against her insides.
“Of course, heart,” he said.
