My jaw goes slack. “Wife? Do they think that I am your wife?”
Vann looks down, a hint of a smirk teasing his lips. “Yes. Mrath told them we were together, and they assumed marriage. This is good news, no? I thought you were looking for a husband.”
I laugh. I am not angry—not even a little. In fact, something warm washes through me. It builds, coils, and concentrates between my thighs. Even the subtle shift in the saddle makes me nearly jump as it presses against my sex.
This is… a lot.
And yet, it feels normal.
Daniel wasn’t half the man Vann was. His affection couldn’t hold a candle to how I feel when Vann holds me close.
My cheeks flush, thinking of the last time he was behind me and he’d cradled me against him in his sleep. It’s surprising, but a part of me is thrilled to be Vann’s, even if only for a few days.
“Well, I suppose I could’ve chosen worse,” I retort.
I feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest.
“I won’t think less of you if you scream,” he says. “I might actually prefer it.”
And then, the dragon begins to move.
Chapter 26
VANN
The air is thin and crisp as we ascend into the high mountains. The wind whips past us, and my stomach lurches as the dragon cuts through the sky, flapping its wings only occasionally.
Arlet sits in front of me, taking to the air like a bird in flight. She shifts from side to side, looking down at the ground, impossibly fearless on this creature of death.
“Stop,” I growl as she leans dangerously far over the side of her saddle. She lets out a laugh, strands of her hair blowing back, whipping me in the face.
“Look down!” she calls back. “Everything is so small!”
I decline with a firm,“No.”I don’t like heights, especially when all that holds us up are these leather scraps.
Arlet shakes her head. “Suit yourself! I feel lighter than a feather!”
She looks it too. I can see the worry, the panic, and the pain melt off her body as she lets out another whoop.
Good.
But then I catch another glimpse of the ground and groan, fixing myself firmly in the riding saddle to curl my tail tighter around her waist.
The elf leading us, Theren, lets out a high-pitched series of calls,ones that his dragon quickly repeats. Soon, the air is filled with the trilling sound, and slowly, the night shimmers.
Elven glamor.
Even I forget to be afraid as the city is revealed, its lights glittering against the dark cliffs.
“This is Dragon's Reach,” our rider turns back to say, his clipped voice carrying with the wind. He gestures toward the city sprawled across the mountain ahead, now laid bare in the moonlight.
I take it in, my gaze sweeping over the tiered city built into the rock itself.
Bridges of woven vines and reinforced stone span the gaps between cliffs, connecting a network of terraces carved into the mountainside. Buildings rise in elegant, twisting structures, their wooden spires curling like talons.
The scent of burning resin and crisp air fills my lungs as we descend the last ridge toward the city’s entrance.
As we approach, I see elves in sleek, layered garments rushing to the rails built into the cliffside. They point at us, completely awake despite the late hour. More dragons rest on nests above the city, their massive forms sticking out from the rock.