on her face combined with the bright sunlight was unlike anything she had ever experienced.
The truth was, flying on the back of the dragon could become all too quickly something she craved.
They flew even higher than they had the first time, no doubt Eirik not wanting his dragon to be but a dot in the sky to any who might see him from below.
It was cold, but Ciara was fully dressed for this ride and Eirik had insisted she unfold her fur and blanket to wear like a double cloak. She’d scoffed, intending to shrug them off when they were in the air. Only she’d quickly discovered how very cold the summer air could be when the dragon flew so much faster than any horse she’d ever ridden. And the higher they went, the less the sun warmed her.
She snuggled in her fur-lined plaid against the dragon’s neck and laughed with the sheer joy of living in that moment. She could not remember the last time she had felt such happiness and she did not care, or hope for it to last. For this minute in time, she was truly delighted to be alive.
There was no worry about the Faolchú Chridhe, no concern about how easily Ciara lost herself in Eirik’s kisses, no secrets to hide or reveal as the case may be, simply Ciara and the dragon in the wide-open sky.
Eirik threw his head back and roared, a sound that went right through his massive dragon’s body and vibrated Ciara’s as well. And she laughed, loving the sensation of sharing in his delight. Then, he cast fire, huge flames that filled her vision. It was the most incredible adventure of Ciara’s life.
In that instant, she felt more connected to him than she had to anyone else…ever. She did not question how this could be, she simply enjoyed it for the temporary pleasure that it was.
It took no time at all to fly to the island. However, they did not land on the beach Ciara was used to from the yearly trips to Balmoral Island she had made with her adopted family. Instead, Eirik brought Ciara to a deserted stretch of beach around the curve of the island.
A guard of two men came out from the forest, their eyes big, their mouths dropped open in shock. With hair the color of the red sunset and looking vaguely familiar, the one on the left was a couple of inches taller and a bit broader than the one on the right. Neither could be discounted in a fight, though, she was sure.
The Éan were consistently smaller in stature than the Faol, Eirik being the exception, but her father said they were fierce warriors and he accorded them the same respect he did the wolves among his clan soldiers.
Thankfully, neither man lifted a weapon in threat. She did not want any of her adopted uncle’s warriors hurt because they thought to go against a dragon who happened to be their ally. Though the fact they had come out of the forest at all was odd, now that she thought about it.
Chrechte warriors were fierce, but to challenge a dragon? Only, they did not look like they meant to challenge Eirik, did they?
And surely Eirik’s dragon senses would have alerted him to their presence before he landed.
Mulling over these inconsistencies and coming up with nothing to explain them, Ciara climbed off Eirik’s back with help from his tail just as she’d done the first time. As soon as she stood on the ground, she dropped both her makeshift cloak and the bundle of Eirik’s things she had held in her lap for the flight.
Her hand rested against the handle of her dirk. Something strange was going on here, but she sensed no danger.
A flash of crimson light almost lost in the brightness of the sun heralded Eirik’s shift back into his human form. Neither of the men drawing nearer showed any surprise at this. In fact, the shorter one smiled in what had to be welcome.
Ciara cut a quick look to Eirik, but she saw no recognition in his features for the guards. Which was not to say he did not know them, his face was simply void of any expression at all.
Hers might not reflect the joy they’d both experienced in the air, but it no doubt showed her confusion.
As the men came closer, recognition dawned. These were Chrechte warriors she’d often seen in the company of her adopted uncle, the Balmoral. She