Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(13)
Contrary to reason, instinct whispered he would spare her.
Though she knew him not, there was something about the way he held himself—the unspoken strength in his movements, the keen awareness of his surroundings despite lacking one eye—that had her wanting to trust the man. His companion, though, she trusted not. The lad was young and brash, lust all too clear in his eyes. Thus Rosalind remained close to Jaxon, praying instinct had not failed her this day…and that the future reward of her actions would far outweigh the risk she was about to take.
Jaxon suddenly drew to a halt, moonlight spilling across his shoulders as it flooded the grassy clearing now before them. “Do ye trust me, then?”
She looked to him in surprise. Had she spoken her thoughts aloud? Surely she had not. Though, as he was a witch, perhaps it would be best to better guard her thoughts. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
He grinned. A dashingly, handsome grin that only served to increase her anxieties and decrease her patience.
“Then get on with it, man,” she said. “You said yourself my throne would soon be stolen.”
Jaxon’s grin took on an evil edge. The sight should have scared her, his proposal to fly her to an unknown location far from home and the protection of her own guard even more so. Yet she was unable to look away, unable to refuse his offer.
The men began undressing in preparation for their flight, and now Rosalind did avert her eyes. Soon the air around them began to whip and swirl. When it stilled, she cast a wary glance toward the clearing. Where the two men had been, now two large dragons stood, one a thin, gray creature and the other a magnificent russet beast. Both stared down at her in anticipation.
“Do not drop me, beast,” she warned the larger dragon, who she was certain had to be Jaxon. “For if any harm comes to me, my father will smite your people before they can mount a proper defense.”
The russet dragon snorted loudly, then craned its long, snakelike neck and gave her a not so subtle nudge toward its front claws. She stepped forward on hollow legs, feigning confidence she did not feel as she complied. The great beast sat back on its hindquarters and reached for her with giant, gleaming talons. But his razor-sharp claws hurt her not as they wrapped carefully around her arms, and in another moment, they were airborne.
And oh, were these sentries fast!
Once she acclimated to the height and cooler, thinner air, Rosalind looked to the lands rushing by far beneath her feet. She, Tristan, and Quinn had soared together countless times over these same hills as adolescents, looking for imaginary rebels to conquer or monsters to slay. They considered themselves experts of Forathian lands, aware of every forest and valley, every rock face and waterfall.
Ah, but today she looked down upon the lands with fresh eyes. A wiser, more worldly woman. One who knew all too well that real monsters didn’t live in the woods, but within their very castle walls.
And that the rebels she detested as a child might well soon become her best allies.
The dragons angled toward a forbidding wall of rock that served as a natural boundary between Edana and Forath. She waited for her escorts to change their course, but instead of veering right or left, both winged beasts increased their speed and continued straight ahead. The wind grew stronger in her ears but did not deafen her enough to hide the sound of a long bow’s arrow slicing past. A scream built in her lungs, and she struggled to pull her legs in closer to her body, knowing full well that, dangling beneath the russet dragon as she was, Rosalind made for an easy target.
Would this be how she died? Shot by her father’s own men?
Both dragons suddenly angled hard to the left, dove, and aimed for the rock wall with increasing speed. The scream catapulted from her lungs now, ricocheting off the stone as they flew faster toward it…
…and passed right on through.
Chapter 7
Addie white-knuckled her hold on Zayne’s spikes the entire flight back, even more so than usual. She’d never flown with another dragon flying alongside them before. Or four, as it were. In the air, they looked even more imposing and dangerous than on the ground, if that was possible. So agile and limber.
So deadly.
Quinn and his men flew behind them in a V-formation, ensuring the golden dragon at their lead did not deviate from his path back to Forath Castle. One unexpected move, and there’d be four giant beasts on him in a heartbeat. Helpless to do anything but fret, she kept her eyes ahead and prayed he wouldn’t do anything rash. Besides, the sooner they snuck back in under her father’s radar, the sooner she could ask Zayne about that peculiar legend.
Thankfully, her fiancé managed to tame the anger simmering beneath his coat of golden scales, and the clearing beyond the castle’s stables soon came into view. Upon landing, Quinn and his men transformed and took cover in the woods, but made clear to Addie before they went that she was to go straight to her room and await word for the evening meal. With a scowl, she slid down off Zayne’s back and fought the urge to punch something. Or someone.
“Who the hell does he think he is, anyway?”
The wind whipped and whirled around her. When it subsided, she held the extra bag of clothing Zayne had retrieved from the cave in an outstretched hand, her gaze still aimed at where the others had gone.
“It appears I am not the only one allowing Blackstone under my skin,” Zayne said, taking the bag from her grasp.