Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
“Cruth reports we did not bring a sufficient supply,” Glane warns, relaying Quinn’s message from the armory in the turret below.
Godsdamn it. “We brought two cases!” Enough to start a war within our own kingdom, considering Riorson has been withholding our forge’s weapons from King Tauri.
“Nuirlach says they’ve sent for more.” She doesn’t sound hopeful.
“From four hours away? How—” Oh shit. Felix knows about Garrick. Gods, he has to be nearing burnout at this point. “Then we hold out and pray Sorrengail can stop that fucking storm.”
“Cruth also relays that you should be drinking more water, as we’ve been in combat longer than hoped for.”
I scoff. “Tell Cruth to tell Quinn that I’m perfectly fine.” It figures she’s worried about me while she’s the one doing all the work.
Glane’s head snaps upward. “Cuir suffers,” she warns me in that gnarring tone that usually means she’s about to do something impetuous, and sure enough, she angles her wings and climbs even higher, at a nearly ninety-degree angle.
Shit. I slip my boots back to the next scale ridge and adjust my hold. Lying along Glane’s back, tucking my head beneath her pommel, and pressing my cheek to her scales helps cut the wind resistance against my torso as we climb.
It’s a mistake to look down at the burning city, but I can’t help but track two wyvern crossing our airspace below. Cath launches, and I blink in surprise. Guess Aetos is all about breaking rules now.
“Brace,” Glane warns.
It’s more than I usually get.
Her momentum shifts, slowing for a nauseating second, and I clamp every muscle and mold myself to her spine, changing our shape from rider and dragon to one being. She’s pulled this maneuver too many times for me not to recognize how shitty this is about to be.
She attacks from underneath, all teeth and claws, then tucks her wings to protect them and swings her tail upward.
I concentrate on moving with her, fighting gravity as I’m hung upside down and her daggertail slices into the next wyvern. Blood sprays, coloring the rain red. My grip loosens despite my rubber-coated gloves, and I grimace, forcing my fingers further between her scales. “Anytime now!”
“Fine,” she sighs. Then we plummet.
The force of the fall pushes me against her scales, effectively holding me in place as she drags the wyvern from the sky. Bone cracks, flesh rends, and she tosses the carcass like yesterday’s trash. The gray mass falls like a stone to the right, and Glane rolls, putting me on top of her back instead of under it.
“Seventeen,” she counts.
“Pretty sure it was sixteen.” I pull myself upward, using her scales like a ladder until my ass hits the seat, and I drag my arm across my goggles to clear the rain. There has to be a rune somewhere that will keep the fucking lenses clear.
“The first one counted!” she argues as we surge toward Cuir and the remaining wyvern.
“Cath took that first one.”
“Only after I wounded it!” Glane snaps.
“Still not a kill.” My stomach tenses as I get my first good look at what we’re up against. Cuir swings his swordtail again and again, keeping the wyvern at his back at bay, but there’s a deep, bleeding furrow cutting diagonally across his chest, no doubt gifted by the claws of the wyvern at his front.
“I want them all.” Glane’s head swivels in both directions.
“Go for the one at his back,” I suggest and hope she’s in the mood to listen. Never know with her.
“Excellent choice,” she agrees with a macabre tone of glee.
Bodhi has his sword in hand, but there’s no clear shot for him as the trio starts to spiral downward. At this angle, we’ll intercept them head-on.
I draw my own sword and clench Glane’s pommel scales with one hand. My thighs are strong enough to hold on their own, but she’s anything but predictable, and I’m not in the mood to die.
Blue fire engulfs Cuir from snout to horns, and Bodhi ducks his head as the remnants of flame roll down Cuir’s neck, extinguishing to smoke before they reach him. I inhale swiftly to dispel the sudden tightness in my chest. That was way too damned close.
Then I focus on the top wyvern, looking for areas of weak—
Glane diverts, banking left to follow Cuir’s spiral, then lunges at the wyvern clawing at his belly. “Changed my mind.”
“Obviously.”
Glane hits the wyvern like a battering ram, and I hold tight, whipping forward, then back at the sudden shift in velocity. My pulse jumps as we push forward to the unmistakable sound of ripping scales, but there’s only determination and rage pouring down the bond—not pain.
An enormous head appears over Glane’s shoulder, and for a split second fetid, dripping teeth are all I can see snapping toward me.
Fuck that nonsense.
“Stay level,” I tell Glane, standing on the seat beneath me. Then I run up the slippery scales of her neck, passing the snarling teeth that part long enough for a jet of blue fire to rush across Glane’s back.