Page 61 of House of Ashes

He was simply attractive and magnetic, two particularly dangerous qualities for a powerful dragon. Any unmated draga in his presence would be feeling the pull towards him, whether he liked them or not. And then he had to deal with his own unmated instincts; he’d always be on alert, subconsciously searching for the dragonblood female who completed the other half of him.

At that moment, while I was staring at Rhylan without really seeing him, a complication I hadn’t considered before struck me.

What if he laid eyes on his future mate while we were pretending to be a bonded pair? It might be rare, but it was completely possible for a mate bond to forge itself even without physical contact; it would also drive Rhylan—or me—into the new mate’s arms, completely annihilating all our plans and putting us in peril for breaking draconic Law.

And his pull was massive, a dark star demanding a satellite. There was the small but very real possibility that another draga would have just the right magnitude of animal attraction that would irrevocably tear Rhylan out of my life…

“What are you staring at, gorgeous?” he suddenly purred, inches away from me.

I almost jumped out of my skin, lost in thought of what might occur if we just happened to fly over the wrong draga at the wrong time. “Rhylan! Gods, you almost gave me a heart seizure.”

“Ah, staring at me, of course,” he said smugly, flexing his arm in a way that made my brain go strangely fuzzy again. “I don’t know why I bothered to ask.”

“I was…” I was staring at him, yes, because he was a feast for the eyes. I no longer felt bad about admitting that to myself. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. Rhylan, what happens if the mate bond forges for you? Or for me? What if we see a draga and she’s…the perfect one and the bond settles between you?”

I must’ve been staring at him wild-eyed, consumed with visions of horror and punishment, because he blinked at my expression, took my hands, and made me sit down on Viros’s wooden stool, crouching in front of me.

“First of all, that’s not going to happen.” He squeezed my hands reassuringly. “Second—”

“But you can’t know that,” I insisted. “My eyrie has been Houseless for four years. Countless dragonbloods could have encroached on my territory by now. What if—”

Rhylan put a finger to my lips, pushing against them firmly. “It is absolutely not going to happen. I know that for a fact, because I already know the draga I want. No other bond could override that desire.”

I was torn—between relief that a surprise mate bond wouldn’t forge itself out of nowhere and destroy our ruse and lives, and a twisting, gut-churning envy over this draga he wanted so badly.

“I’ve given it some thought,” he continued, keeping his finger firmly in place. “While the mate bond I would choose…isn’t going to happen for me, it could still happen for you. But I don’t believe it will. You’re…a little bit stubborn, Sera. If you could survive Mistward by sheer force of will, no doubt you could force a mate bond to back off.”

He gave me a crooked smile, an edge of bitterness to it.

“So don’t worry. Of all the things we need to be concerned about, sudden mate bonds aren’t one of them.”

I took a deep breath, then another. His smoky scent was both exciting and calming, and when he was sure I wasn’t going to burst out with more unfounded fears, he took his finger away from my lips.

“We’re in agreement, yes?”

I nodded silently, unwilling to open my mouth in fear of the question that might pop out.

Because I desperately wanted to know who this unnamed draga was that Rhylan seemed to think wouldn’t bond with him. And if he named another royal draga—particularly one I might have attended the Training Grounds with—I wasn’t sure I would be able to fend off the atavistic territorial jealousy that would compel me to tear her eyes out with my claws.

I needed to be able to look into the face of every royal dragonblood we courted and not descend into blood and chaos.

Especially over a dragon who had confessed, in his own words, that he had only chosen me in this venture for my ancient bloodline and the sway that would hold over the other Houses…not to mention my wealth.

There was no room in my life for envy over something that couldn’t be.

“Now, let me take you home?” he asked, pulling me to my feet.

“I thought you’d never ask.” I forced a smile, trying to tamp down my fears.

There was no room for fear now, not when I could take out the single jewel I’d kept on Mistward: my longing for home. It was hundreds of miles away, but so close I could almost smell it, almost feel it.

And of course, it was Rhylan who was giving it to me, when I had done nothing to deserve it at all.

Chapter

Thirteen

With wind whistling in my ears, I bowed deeply forward over the saddle, watching Rhylan’s horned head flow up and down as his wings pumped us ever southward.