“Did you hear Wreylith’s comment about fornication?” Syla wondered how much Wreylith had shared with him.
“I did not. I suppose she wasn’t in favor of it.”
“Not on her back, no.”
Wreylith sprang into the air, and Syla flattened a hand to her scales, sending her power into the dragon to secure her hold. She wrapped her other arm around Vorik.
“In other places?” he asked with amusement.
“I don’t think she objects in general to us having relations.” Her cheeks flushed again as she remembered Wreylith’s approval that Syla had drawn a powerful mate to kneel and satisfy her needs.
“No?” Vorik asked. “I may be starting to like her.”
They flew into the tunnel, Igliana’s outline with her two riders visible in the entrance ahead of them.
“Even though her magnificence prompted Agrevlari to attack your general’s dragon?” Syla asked.
“Even though.” Vorik somewhat brazenly patted Wreylith on the shoulder.
She growled.
He laughed softly and lifted his hand. “She may not yet like me.”
“She considers you less puny than most humans.”
“I’m honored by her deep regard.”
Syla also laughed, relief seeping into her as they flew into the canyon without any alerts going up in the camp. Her relief was short-lived, for when she looked back, a lookout stood on the cliff above the cavern entrance, someone silhouetted against the cloudy night sky.
Chieftess Atilya? Or someone she’d put out as a scout?
Maybe it didn’t matter. They were flying away with Igliana. If she hadn’t yet informed the other dragons of the situation, she surely would in the morning. Either way, Atilya would soon learn that Syla and Vorik had flown out of their camp on the same dragon. As allies.
Syla didn’t know what the ramifications would be, but, at the least, Atilya would be irked that Syla had taken the prisoner she’d wanted to trade for her own people. Atilya hadn’t promised assistance, regardless, so maybe it wouldn’t matter, but Syla worried she might have alienated someone who could have been a powerful ally. The odds of her claiming the throne and leading her people to a better future seemed worse than ever.
If Syla ever got the chance, maybe she could explain to Atilya that Vorik could have left any time he’d wanted, something that became doubly evident when a familiar dragon flew out from behind the next mountain top. Agrevlari. He didn’t get too close to Wreylith or Igliana, merely matching their pace as they flew east, toward the desert.
The air dried and warmed as the dragons spent the morning flying across the mountains. By afternoon, they soared over the desert, and bright sun blazed down upon them. Though Vorik had traveled over the mountains numerous times in his life, he didn’t know where any abandoned laboratories were and was content to let Wreylith lead the way without input from him. Or was it the orange dragon who knew the location? They were flying side by side with Agrevlari remaining far enough back that he wouldn’t risk irritating the females.
Had I known you would remain on Wreylith’s back and did not need me,Agrevlari said,I would have continued snoozing in the cave I found.
We flew through the night, and you haven’t ventured close enough for me to jump onto your back,Vorik replied, eyeing tall cactuses below, their arms stretched toward the sky, thorns lining their green and gray flesh. Among them were countless other varieties of shorter and squatter cactuses—everything from bush shapes to spiky grass-like clumps to a sprawling ground-cover species with prickly pads that formed meandering patches across the pale, dusty earth. The tall many-armed varieties were most distinctive.
Had I risked Wreylith’s ire and done so, would you have jumped over to me?One of Agrevlari’s eyes rotated toward Vorik—no, toward Syla who was riding behind him.
The last Vorik had peeked back, she’d been snoozing, her cheek against his back, her spectacles hanging on a strap around her neck. When they’d mounted the red dragon, it had been wise of him to arrange Sylabehindhim, instead of between his legs, a very intimate position that would have been on the excruciating side after their arousing kisses and touches in the camp. Since Wreylith wouldn’t likely have humored them with a stop so they could getmoreintimate, he wouldn’t have had a release. Of course, having Syla pressed up against him from behindhadn’t been without stimulation, either, but after hours of riding and dozing, his body had settled down and accepted, however grudgingly, that a sexual encounter wasn’t on the horizon.
I admit I haven’t minded riding over here.The grin he directed at Agrevlari might have been lecherous, not that the dragon would recognize it as so.
To be so close to the magnificent Wreylithwouldbe appealing.Agrevlari sighed into his mind and turned his gaze toward her head.
Yes, yourdragonis the one I’m enjoying being in contact with.
Wreylith was flying straight and not looking back at them. More often, she glanced over at the young orange dragon as they partook in some conversation or another. They seemed to know where they were going, which surprised Vorik, since Wise hadn’t mentioned figuring out more than that the storm god’s laboratory was in the Dire Desert.
On the orange dragon’s back, Sergeant Fel was alternately eyeing the cactus fields below and the route ahead, red-rock formations rising in the distance. Surprisingly, he hadn’t glared over at Vorik that often. The woman riding behind him, Syla’s cousin, Teyla, was perusing an atlas while she rode, one hand gripping Fel for support and one attempting to keep the pages from flapping wildly in the wind. Maybe she was the one directing the dragons?
“Are you awake, Syla?” Teyla called over.
