“Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” Hudson comments wryly.
“Don’t start!” I snap, because the only thing worse than dealing with the fact that
a guy who isn’t my boyfriend very unexpectedly has his head between my legs (even if he is in dragon form) is dealing with it while Hudson looks on.
I start to say something else but end up letting out a little scream as Flint tosses me up and back a little, so that I land, ass first, on the center of his neck.
Seconds later, he’s lifting his head, and I’m trying not to scream as I slide down, down, down his neck, over spikes that turn out to be not that spiky at all only to slam, face-first, onto his back.
55
Ain’t Nothing but
a Wing Thing
I just lay there, arms wrapped around his sides, and try to come to grips with what just happened to me. Eventually, though, Flint gets restless and starts to stand up, even though I am in no way seated appropriately.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I cry out as I try to shift myself around on a moving dragon—which, as it turns out, is even harder than it sounds. Especially when Hudson is laughing his ass off at me.
This time Flint’s snort sounds a little more like a growl.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” I tell him as I finally manage to get myself situated properly, facing forward with my legs straddling his back and my arms wrapped around his neck.
He snorts again, obviously unimpressed with my apology. “Look, I said I was sorry. Now it seems really obvious what you were doing. But at the time, it didn’t. So I’m sorry I thought…whatever it was I thought.”
Flint twists his head around just enough for me to see the disdain on his features.
“You know what? Enough is enough. You want to be annoyed with me, fine. But how was I supposed to know? I’ve never ridden a dragon before. I’ve never even been this close to a dragon before except, you know, when you were digging your talons into my back. So let’s just call it even and get on with the lesson, okay?”
No snort this time, but he does give a regal head toss that tells me my apology is sorely lacking. And also that he’s over it, which is good, because so am I.
Seconds later, Flint bucks his head back in a warning that I don’t understand and then shoots straight into the sky.
I scream again, louder this time, then wrap my hands around Flint’s throat in what could probably best be described as a death grip. If I don’t loosen up soon, it will probably end badly for both of us, but as he zooms to the very top of the castle, there’s nothing I can do about it.
So I just close my eyes, hold on, and pray I don’t fall off.
“Bugger this!” Hudson growls, and I realize he’s now sitting right behind me.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, even as a scream rises in my throat. “I thought you were comfortable on that step.”
“You do realize I’m actually in your head, right? So where you go, I go. It’s kind of a thing.”
“I know that. I just didn’t expect you to decide to ride Flint along with me. It doesn’t really seem your style.”
“As it turns out,” he answers stiffly, “I’ve never ridden a dragon before. I thought it would be…”
“Terrifying?” I ask as Flint does a vertical spin as he continues to fly higher.
“Fun.” The word comes out a little breathless, which I can totally understand. My breath is in my throat, too.
Thankfully, it turns out Flint can breathe even with my death grip, and he takes a few loops around the castle and the sky above it. It’s not exactly a flying lesson, but now that my brain is functioning again, I realize he’s just trying to relax me a little. Get me used to flying, even if it is on a dragon.
I’m positive it won’t work—it’s super scary flying around this castle that’s built on the side of a mountain—but eventually I manage to keep my eyes open for an extended period of time. And when I do, I nearly squeal in delight because, scary or not, it’s absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful up here.
The sky is crystal blue, the mountain is covered in glistening snow, and the castle looks like something out of a movie…or a dream. Its gray and black stones