Page 113 of Ashborne: Defiance

After picking up his harness in the tack room, I found Kham in his stable, the huge sliding door open. The dragons were never true captives in their stables. But he must have stopped the stableboys from closing it. And as I drew closer, I understood why.

Koa had been assigned a large stable across the aisle. Neither space would comfortably fit them both. But they wanted access to each other. Both lay in the straw of their stables in a nest they’d each fashioned, bodies facing the door.

Kham had clearly already eaten and was preparing to sleep. But he was unhappy about being unable to lie with his mate.

I frowned. But my mind skittered away from that unease.

He blew at me as I entered the stable, reaching out with his snout and nudging me in the chest. I spoke to him through the link since the stableboys were probably close enough to overhear.

‘I need your help.’

Kham blew his breath on me and nudged my chest hard enough I had to take a half-step back to keep my balance. ‘You offer this as if it’s new information.’

I tried to smile. ‘I need to be alone tonight. To rest. I need to go to my solitude.’

Kham reared his head up and back, snorting, as if he’d smelled something bad. ‘You should not separate—’

‘Kham, I’m not being difficult. I need this. My body won’t relax. I’m overreacting to everyone. But especially her. I have to be rested for the Acknowledgement tomorrow because Ronen’s insisting I ride wing. I just… need to be alone.’

He exhaled sharply and pushed to his feet, forelegs first so that he sat, then pushed the bulk of his body up with his hind legs, tail lashing for balance. When he was upright, he stretched his wings, then shook like a dog.

He sighed, extending his neck so his nose was just inches from my stomach. ‘I will fly you, because I care for you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘But I cannot stay with you, Voski. I cannot remain apart from my mate for the night. Not yet.’

That hollow gap in my chest ached, but I nodded.

‘Frankly, neither should you,’ he added.

I winced, but ignored the comment, and hurried forward to toss the harness over his shoulders. As I busied myself getting it buckled on—neck straps looping to be buckled in front of the chest, which were in turn attached under his forelegs, around his middle, and the counter-braces around each leg—I tried to ignore the pit in my stomach.

I wasn’t surprised that Kham wouldn’t stay with me. Normally we’d be quite comfortable at that distance from each other. But it was still surprisingly painful to realize he had another, new priority over me.

My dragon gave a low, rumbling growl and turned his head to stare at me. ‘I do not choose priority over you—she is the other half of me. To leave her is to leave my own limb. The urgency will pass with time. But that time is not yet.’

I nodded hurriedly and finished buckling the last of the straps.

Then, I patted his leg, thanking him for being willing to fly me when he was tired, and started out into the aisle.

The stable had been built in stone by the original Furyknights, hundreds of years earlier. It was long, with open ceilings, the aisles large enough for two adult male dragons to pass each other as long as they kept their wings tucked. Thick beam rafters spanned the stone above the resting height of a dragon’s head, though the larger males would keep their necks extended rather than upright.

The building was in the shape of a huge cross, which left room for external yards between each wing where dragons could be bathed, checked by healers, or fitted for harnesses.

Each of the four building wings had a large door leading outside at its end, though one was left purely for Kgosi, and his mate’s use. The others led toward the Academy buildings, the lawns near the courtyard outside the dining hall, and the eastern wing opened out to the launch hollow. That was the exit we used most often. I’d always been glad Kham’s stable wasn’t in that wing. The western wing, where Kham was housed, was quieter than the northern and eastern wings. It suited both of us.

My dragon followed me, head low, through the stable and out into the night. I couldn’t ignore the ache in my chest—a reflection of his resistance to leaving his mate. I sighed heavily to lighten the tension and patted his neck. He’d kept his head low before we started down the slope to the bottom of the launch hollow.

‘Thank you, Kham. You can just drop me off. I’ll unharness and leave it there, then you can come for me in the morning.’

‘I will. If you’re sure?’

For a split second, I saw the image in his mind—he and his mate curled together, merely lifting a wing to find each other, warm and comforted. Happy. Then me—in the dark, in a bed alone, restless and—

I cut Kham off with a curse. “That’s not fair!” I muttered as we trotted down the launch hollow. “This doesn’t work for me as it works for you. I don’t feel the same way.”

‘You could.’