“Kerra, if you are going to scent like that, we will not get very far,” he growls. “I will be required to mate you.”
I’m not entirely sure how that would work, but it’s not going to help, given the way my core squeezes. I concentrate on gettingin between two of his spines, and as he opens his massive wings, I hold on for dear life.
In an easy, smooth movement, Darax rears up and then, muscles bunching and contracting, he is in the air, beating in a way which seems too slow to do anything but at the same time we’re rising up above Vorostor Central.
There’s so much to take in as we go higher. I’m looking at the ground below, a ruddy desert which stretches on for hundreds of miles. The silvery complex beneath us, growing distance, is also vast, so large I can’t even see the other side of it, and then, suddenly two more dragons and a ship are in formation with us. I grip harder as Darax puts on a burst of speed, attempting to shield myself from the whipping wind and scouring sand.
