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“You’re being foolish.”
Sgaeyl’s voice stops me in my tracks as I cross the flight field to Tairn. It’s not like she makes a habit of speaking to me, though insulting me once she does isn’t exactly unexpected. “Excuse me?”
“So is he,” she says as if I hadn’t interrupted her, and I resume moving, albeit more cautiously. Standing next to Tairn, she’s like a navy blue wall of scales, closer than anyone else ever dares to get to him. Except me, and Andarna.
But somehow I know the he she’s referring to isn’t Tairn. “All right, well. Enlighten me,” I tell her, and hiss off a message to Tairn. “You’re not going to let her roast me, right?”
He chuffs at me, that noise I still can’t interpret. “Be polite, Silver One.”
Above my head, Sgaeyl snorts, a blast of steam dampening the back of my neck. Shit. She heard me, too. Can’t a girl get any privacy around here?
“I will not dignify your doubts with a response,” she says, and lowers her enormous head, the gold of her eyes flashing at the edge of my vision. I don’t dare turn my head, and suddenly I really, really wish Xaden was here. “But I will give you advice, because I don’t dislike you, whatever you may believe. You are a fool to think the two of you can resist each other. It’s a farce, and I tire of watching it.”
Every line of my body stiffens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Before I can stop it, my mind flashes back to that spectacular kiss in the courtyard, the way Xaden’s tongue felt in my mouth, his hands on my hips, the length of his body pressed up against mine. Oh yeah, I know. Way too well.
Delicately, her snout nudges my ass, and I want to die of mortification, expiring right there on the flight field. It would be preferable to my dragon's mate getting a good whiff of, well. Me. “Please. You reek of desperation.”
Lifting my eyes to Tairn, I beg him to do something about his mate with my gaze, but he only shakes his head. “You do exude a certain unmistakable…tension,” he says, his voice even more gruff than normal.
“It’s so much worse when the Wingleader’s around!” Andarna pipes up, from her distant spot in the Vale.
“Not helping,” I tell her, my teeth clenched. Carefully, I step away from Sgaeyl’s flared nostrils, edging under the protective shadow of Tairn’s foreleg.
“Okay,” I say, directing my thoughts to both of them. “But have you considered that maybe Xaden and I wouldn’t have this problem if the two of you could just keep it in your pants for more than a few days at a time?”
A horrible, grating sound bounces around my brain, and it takes me a second to process it for what it is. Sgaeyl’s laughing at me. At my back, Tairn rumbles, and I’m not sure if it’s more of a laugh or a cough. Either way, rude. “Putting aside the fact that we do not wear pants,” he says, “the mating urge is not solely ours. Put more simply, you and the Wingleader are feeding your desires for each other back into us.”
Nope. No way do I want to be having this conversation. But I’m pinned by two pairs of golden eyes, and they’re in my head, so it’s not like I have much choice. “So you’re telling me it’s my fault the two of you can’t seem to stop, um…”
“Not solely yours,” Sgaeyl says, saving me the embarrassment of having to come up with a more delicate term for fucking. “I spoke about the matter to my rider first, but he was less than amenable to my suggestion.”
All around us, riders are mounting up, and Tairn ducks down for me, letting me scramble up his leg. “Which was?”
“That he should stop holding back and do as his nature dictates with you, of course,” Sgaeyl tells me, and the blood rushes to my face. “It is nearly inevitable in riders of a mated pair. This struggle to resist is pointless.”
“Surely it can’t be inevitable,” I protest, settling in on Tairn’s back. “What if I was into women, or Xaden only liked guys?”
“Then you might merely be unusually close companions,” Tairn admits. “The bond will not override one’s nature. But you are not, and he does not.”
I groan. “So you’re telling me that no matter what we do or what we want, we’re doomed to end up fucking in the end?” Belatedly, I add, “Stop listening to this, Andarna.”
“I know about mating bonds,” she sniffs. “But you’re all being really gross right now.”
She’s not wrong. This is awful, like talking about sex with your parents, only somehow even worse because it’s impossible to hide anything from them. Including, apparently, my urge to squirm whenever Xaden gets too close, with his stupid sculpted face and those ridiculous broad shoulders.
“Doomed?” Sgaeyl shakes her head at the end of her long, elegant neck, spreading her wings, and I wince. I’ve offended her, again. “The Wingleader is a very attractive human, as I understand these things. I hardly think that’s a fair assessment of his capabilities.” For a second, I make the mistake of meeting her eyes, and Tairn takes off in a rush, leaving his mate and her dangerously narrowed eyes behind. “I can report that his past performance with various lovers has been most satisfactory, if the noises they make are any indication,” she says, because of course physical distance makes no difference to her ability to torment me. “Does that ease your concerns?”
For a split second, jealousy and arousal do battle within me, as I imagine myself in Xaden’s arms, making those unspeakable noises; as I imagine other women moaning underneath him, and feel the hot sizzle of static energy rise along my arms. “Not helping,” I say. “Not helping at all, thanks.”
“Calm yourself, Silver One,” Tairn chides, banking sharply enough that I’m forced to pay attention, my thighs tightening, doing my best to stay in place here and now, not in my horny dreams. “Sgaeyl means only to aid you and the Wingleader.”
“I’m not the problem,” I tell him, grounding and trying my best to shut out the thin stream of blue light in my Archives that represents Sgaeyl. She doesn’t need to hear everything. “Why don’t you order him around, instead of ganging up on me?”
He flares his wings, and I hiss and tighten my grip as much as I can, nearly shooting straight off his back with the loss of momentum despite myself. Sometimes Tairn can be infuriatingly petty. No wonder he chose me. “As you like,” he says, and too late, I notice Sgaeyl in flight nearby. Xaden’s finally arrived. And Tairn’s about to be the most humiliating wingman in the world.
“Wingleader,” he says, as Sgaeyl dips in flight, matching her speed to ours until I can make out Xaden’s expression, somewhere between confused and irked at being addressed by Tairn. “We tire of your indecision. Take my rider to mate before all four of us exhaust ourselves with your pathetic efforts not to.”
Xaden’s face turns to thunder, and I swear I see shadows coalescing around him. Shit. “I’ll take it under advisement,” he says, managing to be way more diplomatic with Tairn than I was with Sgaeyl. “Violet-”
“Don’t blame her,” Sgaeyl says, defending me and letting me hear it, in the bargain. Maybe she’s not so bad after all. “You refuse to listen to good sense, so I sought out one who might.”
“This conversation is over,” Xaden says, in a tone as black as his hair. “For all of us.” He’s too far away to really see as Sgaeyl banks away, but I’m pretty sure he’s glowering at me, which doesn’t bode well for our interactions later. Or my chances of getting his mouth on mine again anytime soon. Not to mention those amazing hands, or every other chiseled bit of him I know lurks under those leathers.
“Don’t worry,” Andarna says, through a yawn. “He’ll give in soon. You’re too pretty for him not to.”
“He had better,” Tairn growls, before going into a series of rolls and spins that leave me lightheaded and nauseated, all thoughts of sex driven straight out of my mind.
*
The day after Xaden and I finally, gloriously, perfectly give in to our urges, Sgaeyl’s waiting for me again on the flight field. Dragons can’t really smirk, but I’d swear she’s doing her best to try.
“Satisfied?” she asks, her edged tail swishing like a cat’s, nudging my body once more with her snout, as if she isn’t well aware of just how much her rider satisfied me the night before, over and over again.
This time, it only reminds me of Xaden’s embrace, and I laugh, breathless, and reach up, hardly believing my own daring, to run my hand lightly down her scales. She shakes her head and snorts, soaking me in hot steam; still, she suffers my touch. Just like Xaden.
“As much as Tairn satisfies you,” I say, and wink.
Far above my head, she chuffs out loud. I laugh along with her, and for one moment, unlikely as it seems, we’re just two girls united.