Vanish (Firelight #2)(55)

I fight down the sudden lump in my throat and stare hard at the lockbox, thinking of the amber stone already lost from it—sold away when we were in Chaparral. I feel a surge of possession as an elder’s hand delves inside, riffling among the contents. It’s not his right. Usually a parent of the bonded couple does this, but in this case I’m without a parent.

Cassian’s gems are next. His father digs inside their family’s box.

The gems are pulled free at the same time. I blink at the beautiful black pearl removed from Cassian’s box. Perfectly round, it fills his father’s palm. An amber piece is selected from my family’s cache. I distinctly remember every gem in that box and know it to be the last amber left. I know why they chose this one. It’s the stone that most represents me.

The amber and pearl are held high in the air, displayed before the pride. A gem from each of our family’s caches. Two gems to begin our legacy together. Our own family.

The lump in my throat grows and no matter how hard I try, I can’t swallow it.

Together, united, the two stones project a different glow, a different energy altogether. I hear their whispering song and watch as they are placed in a new box. Black lacquer with fiery red coiled carvings etched on top of the lid. This one is ours. Mine and Cassian’s. And I wonder how long ago it was made in preparation for this moment.

Then it’s time. We must begin our ascent. Our last flight as independent individuals.

Eyes locked, we lift off the ground and soar. I ignore the twinge in my injured wing and lift, lift, lift.

Face angled into the cool, wet wind, I luxuriate in the taste of sky again—despite myself. Despite wanting to like nothing about this moment. Flying has always been my balm. I can’t resist the sweetness of it . . . not after knowing I almost lost this when I came so close to a wing clipping.

My wings work, slap the air, take me higher and higher. It’s as though I’m racing away from it all, straining to get as far from the pride as possible. I close my eyes, savor the speeding wind rushing against my face.

For a moment, the thought flashes through my mind to just keep going, melt away, vanish into the sky. Never come down. At least not on pride grounds.

Then I see Cassian, winding through the mist and clouds with me. His great wings gleam darker than the night, powerful sails of onyx with winking undertones of purple.

His gaze holds mine as we twist and twirl upward. And I know. He knows my thoughts. He knows but his face reveals nothing.

And then I understand. Feel it deep in my chest where fire and char dwells.

He would let me go. Escape into the night, disappear into the sifting mist and clouds.

The choice is in my hands.

I imagine this. Imagine him drifting back down to the pride without me. Facing everyone, shamed and abandoned. Of course, they would come after me. I probably wouldn’t get very far. Not much of a chance, really.

Suddenly, he stops. Floats adrift.

I stop, too, buoyed on the air.

I face him. Several inches separate us. Night clouds drift below us, above us. Cold vaporous wisps float around us like chilled smoke.

I catch glimpses of his face through breaks of cloudy air. A flash of shimmering charcoal, eyes like obsidian.

“It won’t be real,” I call to him. My voice is swept up in the wind, and I’m not sure he heard me until he calls back:

“It’ll be real enough.”

Real enough? For him? Is that what he’s saying? Does he think a bond where only one of us is fully committed will be fulfilling? To either one of us? Or is he holding out for that connection to form and tie us together?

I’ve already lost so much this day. Will. Mom. I glance down. Tamra waits there, far below, as betrayed as I am by the pride.

I raise my gaze back to Cassian. It won’t be real. This won’t be real.

I swim through air toward him. It’s the only answer he needs.

For now, this is what I must do. What the moment demands.

His eyes soften as we embrace, do what draki have done down through the millennia. His hands rest gently where they touch me. One at my back between my wings, the other on my hip. For all that, his stare is no less intense, drilling into me as if he were memorizing everything about my face, everything about this moment.

I close my eyes and try to forget. Think only of Will. That I’ll see him again.

Cassian’s body is rock solid against mine, and I remember that he’s bred to be a warrior. Tough and unyielding, but I feel safe in his arms, not the least threatened by his power, his strength.

Plastered against each other, we begin our descent. My stomach falls, pitches to my feet. It’s like the dream, the nightmare. I’m falling, unable to lift up. To catch myself.

I’m falling and there is no help for it.

Where we ascended as two, we descend as one. That’s the bonding act. That is what we must do. What this is all about.

I’d always thought the bonding rite romantic, something special I would share with someone one day. Even so, it loomed far away. A distant prospect. But now it’s real. It’s happening to me right now.

Cassian’s arms hold me as we plummet. Air roars past as we twist in a speeding circle, dropping, hurtling to earth. My hair flies up from my scalp. Even Cassian’s hair tears from his face and flutters like dark ribbons from his head.

We stare at each other, nose to nose, the howl of the wind loud as a freight train in our ears as we twist and spiral toward the pride waiting below.