by Denali Day
Emotion swelled. Joselyn tasted salt in her mouth, and her eyes began to sting. She started to turn away, to hide herself. Hollen’s arms went tight around her, holding her in place.
“No, don’t,” he said, trying to catch her gaze, which was wildly skipping across the stone ceiling. He gave her a gentle shake. “Joselyn.”
She turned her eyes to his and swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat. He waited to speak until she was focused on him. “Nothing has changed. I’ll never demand anything of you that you don’t freely wish to give me.”
He ran a hand over her shoulder and down the length of her arm. “Not your body, not your heart.”
She held her breath, considering his words. His next were whispered.
“I only want you to know that you have mine.”
Her heart shattered. Tears filled her eyes. Who was this man? What was he? Was it his mission to humble her? Strip her of all dignity and strength? To peel away the layers of prejudice and creed she wore like armor? Reduce her to a creature of base desire and instinct? Would he not rest until he proved she’d been wrong about everything in life?
Joselyn looked at him. Really looked at him. Listened to the steadiness of his breath. Inhaled his smoky musk. She absorbed his heat, his warmth. Brushing her fingers over his tanshi mark, she felt the steady pulse of his heart. Her heart.
Joselyn rose to her knees and pushed Hollen to his back. She draped herself over his body. Her fiery hair fell like a curtain around his face as she kissed him, long and slow. Her hands roamed over him, stroking, caressing. In time they began to rock against one another, lulled into the natural rhythm set by their mutual need.
Joselyn let her body say the words that her lips had not.
33
Brother of My Heart
The steady rise and fall of her savage’s chest was soothing. Whatever strength he’d retained, Joselyn had drawn every last bit until he’d collapsed into a sated pile of slumbering man beside her. Joselyn watched him now, propped on her elbow, mind alert as his was dormant. She traced the patterns of his idadi, humming. When had she become the sort of woman to hum to herself? She smiled. Her answer lay before her.
Her stomach growled, interrupting her tuneless melody.
How late was it? She scoffed. It was likely morning, or would be soon. If Hollen woke to a plate of food, would he be ready to resume their evening’s activities? Her skin warmed at the appealing idea, even as her thighs clenched in disapproval. Perhaps she and Hollen could devise a more creative form of distraction. One that wouldn’t put further strain on her recently deflowered body. The private springs, perhaps? In anticipation of that, she rose from the bed, careful not to disturb Hollen.
Outside the common area, Joselyn could see the deep blue of predawn painting the sky. Much as it had been the morning after her welcoming feast, the cave floor was littered with the reclining figures of boys who’d not made it back to their beds before passing out. She stepped over and around them, shaking her head at their purple-stained lips.
By now, several of the women were typically up, preparing the morning meal. As it was, only two old widows milled about, far less careful than Joselyn to avoid disturbing the sleeping boys. They even occasionally “tripped” over their lounging bodies. Joselyn smirked. She gathered a plate full of meat and cheese and turned to make her way back to the bok.
“Good morning, little sister.”
Joselyn started and nearly dropped the food. Her hand flew to her chest.
“Sigvard!” She hissed. She glared up at his mischievous face, then dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“You have to be the sneakiest boy…man I’ve ever met.”
His eyes flashed as she corrected herself, and his chest puffed out. Joselyn smoothed back her hair. “I thought surely you’d be indisposed after your own feast.”
Sigvard scoffed. “So recently after gaining my wings? Where’s the fun in that? I slept just long enough to give Grelka a rest.”
“Grelka?”
“My gegatu.” He said, shining with pride.
“A fine name.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you awake, after you and my brother both retired so early.”
Joselyn stared at him. She started to respond, but he cut her off. “Perhaps you found something more exciting to do than celebrate my victory?” He wiggled a brow.
Joselyn’s mouth hung open. Had it been so obvious? Had everyone noticed? Or was Sigvard simply toying with her? She wanted to say something clever, but only stuttered.
“I know how you can make it up to me!” he declared, grabbing her food and setting it aside. Before she could protest, he grabbed her by the hand and tugged her toward the cave’s entrance. She rolled her eyes, but followed, her curiosity piqued. Just before exiting, Sigvard snatched up a discarded fur cloak and handed it to Joselyn.
They trudged down the ravine through the freshly fallen snow. All the way around the edge, well out of sight of the common area. The sky was softening to lavender now, not quite heralding the sun. Joselyn shivered in the crisp morning air.
“You know, the last time I followed you somewhere, I nearly died.”
“Ah, but not before having a little fun, eh?” He glanced back at her with a smirk on his freckled face.
Joselyn scoffed. “I could think of far better words to describe that experience.”
“Yes. Dramatic, intriguing”—his smirk deepened—“provocative?”
She snickered, unable to maintain the facade of censure. “What are we sneaking off to do, Sigvard?”
He turned toward the cliff face and performed a rapid series of whistles. The piercing sounds echoed off the stone walls. A moment passed, and then Joselyn could hear it before she saw it. His gegatu shrieked from the ledge above them. Grelka dropped off the side, opening her black wings to glide gently toward the ground where Joselyn and Sigvard stood.
Joselyn took several hasty steps backward. Instinct dredged up the desire to bolt like a wild hare from a descending eagle. Sigvard seemed not to notice. His appreciative face remained fixed upon his new mount. The beast, now saddled, landed softly in the snow and hissed at Joselyn.
“Eh!” Waving an arm, Sigvard waved an arm and bit out a series of commands in his father tongue, intent on gaining his mount’s full attention. With what seemed to Joselyn like a great deal of reluctance, the creature obeyed.
Joselyn planted her feet into the snow, willing herself not to run. She’d only mark herself as prey. It was one thing to stand so close to this creature while the entire clan was also there. But with none but Sigvard, Joselyn felt like the obvious target should the wyvern decide it was hungry.
“Sigvard?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low.
Hollen’s brother held his steed beneath the jaw. He turned to look at her. “It’s all right Joselyn. She’s not going to attack you.”
Joselyn eyed the creature warily, remembering how Hollen had warned her never to approach a gegatu without its rider present. Did that mean she was safe so long as its rider was present?
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Because I told her not to,” he said, as though it really were as simple as that. “Come here.”
“I’d rather not,” She said flatly. She didn’t like the gegatu as a species, not even Jagomri. She could think of no reason to approach the creature.
“Come now, Joselyn. Don’t tell me you can’t appreciate beauty in all its forms. Does looking at gold all one’s life do that to a person?”
Despite her nerves, Joselyn managed to shoot Sigvard a wicked glare. He was goading her. She ought not take him seriously. The auburn-haired man laughed, pleased to have riled her. His easy demeanor drained some of her fear away.
Flicking a glance at the skinny-necked beast, Joselyn sighed and crept forward. She stopped just behind Sigvard, and managed not to flinch when he drew her hand up to rub Grelka in the space between her nostrils. It was surprisingly soft, a
nd Joselyn’s flesh warmed as the beast blew out a puff of hot breath. It made no move, and after a few moments, appeared to lose interest in Joselyn, looking instead at the glowing horizon as though it longed to fly.
“See, nothing to fear.” Sigvard looked down at her. Pleasure emanated from him.
Joselyn drew her hand slowly away, with a hint of self-satisfaction rising at her own daring. “She is beautiful, Sigvard. I’m glad she didn’t kill you.”
Sigvard laughed, freely stroking a hand up the center of Grelka’s face. “She couldn’t possibly. Just the thought of a life without me would destroy her.”
Joselyn’s brow wrinkled doubtfully. “I suppose you’re in a hurry to complete the veligneshi now? Anxious to claim a bride of your own?”
Some of Sigvard’s pleasure seemed to dissipate at that. “What’s the point? I have three brothers ahead of me. It will be a long while before I get my chance.”
Joselyn considered him. “You’re still young.”
He huffed, then released Grelka to turn toward Joselyn. He studied her, an odd expression on his face. “Got any adventure left in you this morning?”
“Why?” She’d already been on the adventure of her lifetime just hours ago.
“What do you say to a morning flight? I’ve never seen the sunrise from the sky. Have you?”
Joselyn blinked at him, then realized what he was suggesting. “You want me to ride with you?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Why not?”
“Why not?” she sputtered. “Because it’s dangerous!”
He waved a hand, clucking dismissively. “Hardly. Come on, we can be back in half an hour. I assume Hollen won’t be waking for a good while yet?” He looked as though he were holding in a laugh at those last words.
The tightness in Joselyn’s face slackened, replaced by the heat of a blush. Sigvard indeed knew exactly what she and Hollen had been up to the night before. Desperate to change the subject, she shook her head solemnly.
“I’m sorry Sigvard, but no.”
Sigvard’s shoulders slumped and he physically deflated. His coppery eyes dropped to the snowy ground between them. “Oh.”
There was an awkward silence, and Joselyn found herself regretting her quick refusal. Couldn’t she have shown just the slightest interest in his idea? Her eyes scanned the length of the wyvern’s white streak of scales that disappeared under the saddle.
Grelka looked docile, or at least, as docile as any mastered gegatu. They reminded her of cats in a way, generally foul tempered, but ultimately harmless if approached correctly. She wrinkled her nose at her own comparison. She’d never seen a cat large enough to swallow a man. Still, Sigvard’s new beast didn’t appear hungry. It only seemed like it wished to be off, away in the sky.
She glanced back at Sigvard’s defeated expression and fidgeted with the edge of her cloak. He’d wanted her to fly with him, demonstrate to her the speed and power of his mount, a subtle hint at his own masculine prowess. Fresh off the high of his victory, what he probably really wanted was to claim his own hamma, and show her what he’d accomplished. Just how long would it be before he got that opportunity?
“We’ll be back just after the sun rises? No longer?”
Sigvard’s face lit up like a torch. “Yes! We could be back long before the clan begins to rouse.”
“And we won’t land anywhere but back here?” Joselyn looked hard at him, remembering the trauma she’d nearly experienced the last time she’d left Bedmeg.
“I swear it.” He sobered a bit, as though he understood why that particular detail was important to her.
Taking one last look at the wyvern’s disinterested eyes, Joselyn sighed and nodded her consent. The dimples in Sigvard’s face appeared with his smile. That look almost made this madness worth it. Joselyn had gone her whole life wishing for a brother. Now she had four. He took her by the hand and led her toward the beast’s back.
He all but lifted her to the saddle, reminding her of just how strong these Dokiri men were, even young ones such as Sigvard. When she’d settled, Sigvard leapt up behind her and set to binding his legs in the saddle. They swayed several feet to the side as Grelka shifted and growled, shaking her head like a dog in the rain. Joselyn tensed.
“Don’t fear, Joselyn. She’s just preparing for glory.” The edge of teasing humor was back in his voice.
Joselyn rolled her eyes, mostly to distract herself from her jittering nerves as Sigvard finished his preparations.
“I, uh—are you ready?” he asked, a strange hitch to his voice.
She nodded. Joselyn understood the reason for his hesitancy when he slid his arms past her waist and leaned over her, pressing his chest into her back.
“Sorry.” Sigvard mumbled, his tone so sheepish Joselyn had to laugh.
She settled her belly against the leather of the saddle, instantly deciding she would never mention this little lapse in judgment to Hollen. Not that she’d planned to before.
Sigvard grasped the ridges on Grelka’s back and urged his mount forward. The wyvern jolted, and Joselyn was glad to have the weight of a grown man upon her. However awkward, it was better than falling to her death. After a brief running start, Grelka opened her wings and beat against the frigid morning air. She leapt up and, after a slight dip, they were free of the white earth below.
Sigvard's infectious laugh of triumph rang loud before the piercing wind swallowed the sound. Joselyn shivered, happy she’d only agreed to a short flight. They soared down the mountain, streaking across the sky like a falling star. It was obvious Sigvard was particularly proud of his mount’s speed, and he intended to make it clear to Joselyn just how much of it Grelka possessed. Joselyn would give him an earful when they finally landed. For now, she held on.
The sky was now going blush, a remnant of purple just visible to the west. To the east, a ray of golden light beamed like a beacon into the cloudy heavens above. Joselyn stared, transfixed by the spectacle. Indeed, a sunrise from the sky was an experience all its own. Nothing obstructed this visual feast, no trees, no mountains, nothing. She was free to marvel at it in its full majesty.
The first shred of daylight blue was just peaking over the horizon when Joselyn glanced downward, curious where they’d flown. Below them, the ground had turned a deep green, covered by a fir pine forest. The trees reached toward the heavens like snow-dusted spires. Joselyn glanced back. She was shocked to see the mountain a good way behind them, looking again like the imposing monument it was rather than her new home.
She laced her hand around Sigvard’s arm and tapped at him until his chin pointed in the direction of her extremity. She jabbed a finger backward in silent demand that they return. He nodded, his chin bumping into the top of her head, and pulled hard on one side of Grelka’s shoulders. The creature crowed, loud enough to be heard over the wind. She banked right and circled back toward Bedmeg.
Joselyn breathed a sigh of relief, wondering at her own need to return to the place she’d once thought of as a prison. To the man she had once thought her jailer. Despite the icy air, Joselyn warmed to think of slipping back beneath the furs of their bed and wrapping her bare body around his once again. They couldn’t get back fast enough.
Above her, Sigvard stiffened. Joselyn tried to crane her head backward to see what the matter was. As she did, one of his arms released Grelka to jerk against Joselyn’s shoulder and face.
Something hit them. Hard.
Terror ripped through her chest. Joselyn couldn’t see what caused their mount’s body to jolt, nor the reason for its abrupt, wild screeching. Her vision was blocked by Sigvard’s body curling in around her. Panic overtook her, and she screamed as the wind around them began to slow. They were falling.
The snapping of branches sounded like cracking thunder as they tore through the canopy of trees. Sigvard’s body folded heavily over Joselyn as they hit the powdery ground and skidded across the snow. She could see nothing but white as they slid, and felt the icy spray on her hands an
d face until they finally halted against the trunk of a pine.
There was a brief moment of stillness before Sigvard tore himself off her back and set to working his right leg from the saddle.
“Joselyn . . .Joselyn . . .Joselyn!”
Sigvard’s screaming voice finally got through to her, and she jumped. Leaning, she looked backward to see Sigvard frantically scanning her body, even as he continued to attempt to free himself. Joselyn tried to relax, as if doing so would make her more aware of herself. Was she injured? She didn’t think so. What about Sigvard? He seemed intact.
Way out to the side, Joselyn saw what had caused them to crash. The arm of Grelka’s wing was wound in a thick, triple corded rope, weighed down by three, heavy metal balls. The leather of the massive wing was fanned out against the snow, still, like the rest of the wyvern’s body. Joselyn glanced back at Sigvard, hoping he could make sense of what had just happened. His eyes were wild with fear as he finished releasing one leg. He whipped around to free the other.
In the distance, Joselyn thought she could hear voices shouting. Male voices.
Just then, Grelka woke from whatever stupor she’d been in. The creature reared, causing Sigvard and Joselyn to lurch forward. The gegatu bucked and tossed, trying to free its entangled wing, all the while shrieking loud and high.
Joselyn’s head whipped forward and back, causing her to bite down hard on her tongue. Fresh panic rose in her and, as Sigvard rose off her back, she tried to swing a leg around and jump free of the spooked creature. She fell more than leapt off its back, landing heavily in the blanket of snow. Before she could think, she was rolling, trying to get out of the way of the enormous beast’s jagged talons.
When she finally stopped spinning, Joselyn rose to a sitting position to see Sigvard being thrown back and forth. One of his legs was still caught in the saddle. He was trying to reach the leg, trying to pull himself out, but he couldn’t grasp the straps.
“Sigvard!” She cried, utterly helpless.
Grelka’s wing was beginning to unwind, which was miraculous considering. Would the creature still when it was free? Give Sigvard a chance to free himself? What if he was seriously injured? Joselyn scrambled to her feet and jumped back even further as Grelka swung round and nearly into her.