Flight of Dragons(353)

“Bjorn?” She looked at him expectantly, and a new stab of guilt shot through him. What was he doing? Beneath him, his dragon tensed.

Right. Racing.

“On three. One, two, three—” With a jerk, the dragons took their first few powerful steps, their heavy wings churning the air around them. “Yah!” Bjorn encouraged, pressing his knees tight against the dragon’s back as he flattened out.

Beside him, Britt was doing the same, but where he was loud, she was quiet, whispering to her beast.

He longed to know what she was saying. Even knowing that little bit of her would fill his soul.

Who was he kidding—he wanted all the little bits, but he wanted to start with the murmured encouragements. He didn’t want to miss anything on this race to the top of the world, because it might be the only time they had together.

Gripping the ridges on the dragon’s back more tightly, he nudged her slightly to the east as they rose through a bank of fog. Britt cut west and he lost sight of her, but when they broke through the cloud she was just ahead. “Yah!” he urged, digging in his heels. Her dragon may be stronger, but his was, as he expected, more nimble, and when she ducked her head, he let her dive.

Smart dragon, he mused, as she pulled up, soaring faster than before, and as she rose again, she came abreast of her mate.

Britt laughed, a happy, impressed trill that carried on the wind and made his chest swell.

They were across the river now and banking hard. Bjorn relaxed his legs, letting his dragon charge hard on her own, and as they started climbing again, he thought they might just outflank Britt. But she urged her dragon closer to the jagged rock face, and her risk-taking would prove to be Bjorn’s undoing, for he pulled back, not wanting either of their dragons to be injured.

And neither were, but as they reached the peak, Britt’s lead was insurmountable. He watched her settle on the large rock outcropping. He was torn between being impressed at her fearlessness and wanting to chastise her for being reckless.

She didn’t give him a chance to say anything though, waving off his attempts to congratulate her on the race as he dismounted. She stayed in her saddle, still smoothing her hand over her dragon’s shoulder.

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” He wasn’t sure who she was speaking to, but then she leaned in and pressed her face against the dragon’s dark scales. Definitely not him. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You did well.”

All Bjorn had to offer his dragon was an apple, which she seemed to enjoy. He felt suddenly inadequate as a rider.

Britt pushed herself up again, rolling her spine languidly before twisting and swinging her legs together.

“You also did well,” she added cheekily in Bjorn’s direction as she dropped effortlessly to the ground. Her thick blonde hair fell in a braid down her back, but the mists they’d flown through had curled her hair something fierce and tendrils were escaping all over the place.

He jerked his gaze away from her hair, glancing instead to her beast, who looked suspiciously pleased to have just been ridden by this woman that moved like water and smelled like summer wildflowers.

That she didn’t notice his attention or if she did, she didn’t care, made her all the more captivating. Her hand trailed over the great beast’s neck, maintaining that contact until she reached its head, where she paused and murmured something Bjorn didn’t catch.

Laughing, she looked around, then jogged over to a rock outcropping where a thick swath of green and white flowers were growing. Hardy, early spring blooms. She plucked a handful and spun around, holding them out in front of her in offering.

Flowers?

Bjorn sometimes gave the dragons hangreet root or an apple. He’d never given them presents.

Her beast lifted his head and his ears twitched back, his nostrils flaring even as she was ten feet away.

“Do you like the way they smell?” She laughed as the nostril flare got wider. Bjorn’s chest tightened at the sheer joy she was getting out of this moment. “I met a dragon friend on the other side of the Outerlands Range who liked to eat these flowers. Do you eat them too? Or was she just funny?”

“When were you here before?” Bjorn interrupted.

Britt glanced over her shoulder. “A few years ago.”

“There’s no…” He trailed off. There weren’t any authorized dragon riding centres anywhere else on the continent, but he didn’t need to tell Britt that. What was done was done.

She rubbed her dragon’s muzzle before moving closer. She stopped right in front of Bjorn and peered up at him. She saw right through him, clearly. “And yet somehow I survived.”