Union (23 page)

“Selene too,” Nykin added a beat later. He paused for so long that Ryneq wondered if Nykin had finally fallen asleep. “D’you want to come?”

Ryneq hadn’t expected him to say that, and something warm curled tight inside his chest. Nykin tended to keep that side of his life separate from Ryneq, as though he needed something of his own. Being a dragon rider was in Nykin’s blood. His bond with Fimor was just as important as his relationship with Ryneq, and Ryneq respected that.

So the fact that Nykin was asking him now meant a lot. “I’d love to.” He buried his face in Nykin’s hair and breathed in deeply. “You smell of horses,” he whispered. The familiar smell making him ache for his own horse left back in Torsere. Nykin grunted softly, and Ryneq smirked knowing how reluctant Nykin usually was about riding. He shifted a little, nosing along the length of Nykin’s neck, and took another breath. The equine scent now mixed with the masculine smell of Nykin’s hard, lean body. “You smell good.”

Nykin lifted his head a little and looked at Ryneq out of one eye. “Only you would think that smelling of horses was a good thing.” He smiled lazily and planted a soft kiss to the exposed skin of Ryneq’s throat before slumping back down and closing his eyes. “As much as I’d like to take advantage of our time alone, I just need to sleep for a few moments.”

Nykin’s voice was already trailing off before he’d finished the sentence, and his breathing soon evened out as he fell asleep. Ryneq’s smile still stretched wide across his face, and he stroked his hand up and down Nykin’s back in slow leisurely sweeps, until his own eyes began to get heavy again. He settled his fingers in the dip at the base of Nykin’s spine as he eventually drifted off to sleep.

“
F
IMOR
?
” N
YKIN
and Ryneq led the way across the soft sand, with Selene and the elves walking close behind them. The sun sat low in the sky, reflecting a burnt orangey red on the shimmering sea.
“Where are you?”

“We’re on our way, Nykin.”

Nykin looked up at the sky as his rider’s mark tingled with the warm thrum of magic. Two shapes, dark against the setting sun, flew high above them, getting lower and lower until Nykin could clearly make out the distinct coloring of Fimor and Kalesh.

He heard a couple of quiet, awed gasps behind him as the two dragons landed on the beach just ahead of them. Nykin couldn’t really blame the elves. If he hadn’t seen it so many times himself he’d react exactly the same. Both dragons were up on their back legs, wings spread out wide, and Nykin smirked at the display.
“I forgot how much you like to make a grand entrance.”

Fimor snorted loudly and pulled in his wings to settle down onto the sand.
“I’m a dragon, Nykin. You know how I like to be the center of attention.”

Fimor and Kalesh were roughly the same size, and they took up a lot of room when they sat side by side. The sun washed over their scales, giving them an ethereal glow, and Nykin was struck again by how truly magical they were. No wonder they fascinated the elves.

He didn’t hesitate to walk right up to Fimor and rest his hand against the dark red scales. He felt Fimor’s contented hum throughout his whole body, and he relaxed into Fimor’s side as their bond flared—strong and steady.

The soft clearing of a throat behind him reminded Nykin that he and Fimor weren’t alone. He reluctantly stepped back and turned around, his cheeks a little pink with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure why the need to be so close to Fimor, to be actually touching him, was so strong. But now that Fimor was here, Nykin didn’t want to let him go.

“It’s all right, Nykin. The magic here in Alel is affecting our bond. It’ll become easier the more time we spend together. Trust me.”

“Okay,”
Nykin answered, but he couldn’t help reaching a hand back behind him to rest on Fimor’s neck. He needed the contact, and he didn’t care if it looked odd. He glanced up to see four pairs of eyes on him. The elves were glancing between him and Selene—who was doing much the same with Kalesh—but Ryneq’s gaze never left him.

He raised his eyebrows, and a look of concern clouded his features. “Are you okay?” Ryneq asked, stepping forward and reaching for Nykin’s other hand. He wrapped his strong, warm fingers around Nykin’s and squeezed ever so slightly.

“Yeah.” Nykin squeezed back to reassure him. It obviously wasn’t enough, though, because Nykin found himself pulled into a tight embrace. Ryneq held him close with a hand tight on his hip. Nykin closed his eyes, letting Ryneq’s strength bleed into him until he felt more like himself and less like he might break apart any moment. “Thank you,” he whispered, as they slowly parted.

Ryneq’s eyes were dark and intense, as though searching for the truth in Nykin’s words. Finally finding what he was looking for, he dropped Nykin’s hand and moved back to stand nearer the elves.

Faelon looked like he was bursting with questions as he watched Nykin and Fimor. Avelor appeared slightly more reserved, but his eyes shone with excitement. His hand rested on the small of Faelon’s back, and Nykin wondered if perhaps Ryneq wasn’t the only one who felt a little possessive. Lerran had eyes only for Selene, and he watched her and Kalesh with a look of wonder. Nykin just hoped they knew what they were getting into.

Looking around at them all, Nykin felt his display of clinginess probably needed some sort of explanation. He gestured for everyone to sit on the sand while he settled himself back against Fimor’s flank. “If you’re wondering about why Selene and I seem reluctant to move away from our dragons, it’s because apparently the magic in Alel is strong enough that it’s affecting our bond.” Nykin watched the expression on the elves’ faces turn from curious excitement to a mixture of confusion and horror.

Faelon was the first to speak. “If you and Fimor need to leave, Nykin, then you should do so immediately. We would never wish to damage the bond between you and your dragon.” His gaze flicked sideways for a moment. “That goes for Selene and Kalesh too, of course.”

Nykin felt Fimor’s smugness through the bond, and when he caught the small, irritated flick of Kalesh’s tale out the corner of his eye, he could imagine just what Fimor was saying to her.
“She’s going to bite you one of these days, if you’re not careful.”

“She knows I was right about the elves being trustworthy. She just won’t admit it. Apparently actions speak louder than words
,
”
Fimor grumbled, but Nykin heard the hint of amusement in his voice.
“Tell your elves that while our bond may be a little unsettled at first, it will pass and there will be no lasting damage. We do not need to leave Alel.”

“Not
my
elves,”
Nykin shot back before meeting Faelon’s gaze. “Fimor says that the effects are only temporary. There’s no need for us to leave.”

The elves relaxed and arranged their long limbs more comfortably on the sand. “I’m very relieved to hear that.” Faelon paused, as if debating whether or not to ask something. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you since we left Torsere, and”—he pointedly looked over at Ryneq before continuing—“with your king’s permission, I wondered if you would tell us about how the bond itself is formed?”

Nykin’s mouth fell open, and he heard Selene’s sharp intake of breath next to him. The bonding of a dragon to its rider took place in the presence of the lead dragon rider, but even they were only there for a small part. The act itself was considered a private affair and hardly ever talked about. Nykin hadn’t discussed it with anyone, and he was at a loss how to reply. “I… um… I don’t….”

“It’s okay, Nykin,” Ryneq interrupted him, his voice gentle and soothing. “If you and Selene are happy to explain, then you are free to do so.”

Nykin’s gaze met Selene’s, and she shrugged, looking just as lost as Nykin felt. “We need to ask our dragons,” Nykin said, and Selene immediately turned to Kalesh. “Fimor, I’m assuming you heard the request, how do you feel about that?”

“I expected them to ask this, so I’m not surprised by their request. As long as you’re comfortable with telling them, then I am happy for you to explain.”

“Okay.” Nykin smiled a little and pulled his sleeve back to reveal his mark. “Fimor’s given his consent for us to describe the bonding ritual. Selene?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say Kalesh is happy about it, but she’s willing to let me talk about it if I need to.” Selene glanced back over her shoulder at her dragon before meeting Nykin’s eyes, a wry smile on her face. “She seems to think that you and Fimor should do most, if not all of the talking.” Selene seemed suddenly to remember who else was with them, and she hastily addressed Ryneq, with a slight bow of her head. “As long as that’s all right with you, Sire.”

“Of course, Selene.” Ryneq smiled warmly at her. “Whatever you both feel comfortable with.”

“Fimor? Where should I start? Do I tell them everything or
—
”

“Nykin,”
Fimor cut in, halting Nykin’s rambling.
“Just breathe for a moment.
Start from the beginning, when you discovered what your rider’s mark meant, and take it from there.”

The three elves and Selene were all watching him now, waiting patiently for him to start talking, but Ryneq was looking intently at Fimor as though they were having some sort of silent conversation. Nykin knew they were able to share emotions, and he wondered just what Ryneq was feeling to make him look so serious.

“I think you need to include your king more, Nykin.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want our bond to come between the two of you, but it will, if you don’t let him into this part of your life.”

Fimor shifted his body, maneuvering around until he curled around Nykin in such a way that it created a suspiciously man-sized space next to him. When Fimor prodded at him with the tip of his tail, Nykin got the hint and reached his hand out for Ryneq.

The surprise on Ryneq’s face quickly morphed into a smile, and he rose to his feet in one fluid motion and came and sat beside Nykin. They both leaned against the warm scales of Fimor’s body, pressed together by the dragon’s position.

“Hmm… much better. I can feel the king’s contentment already.”

Nykin leaned into the solid weight of Ryneq next to him and agreed with Fimor wholeheartedly. This was so much better.

“Selene.” He motioned for her to pull back her sleeve a little, pointing at his mark. When he could see hers too, he turned to face the elves.

“As you already know, all riders are born with these marks”—he gestured for the elves to come a little closer so they could see better—“and they aren’t just similar in appearance—they’re identical.”

Selene got up and moved so she could put her arm next to Nykin’s.

It never ceased to amaze him that they looked exactly the same. The same colors, the same swirls of orange flame, and a thrill rushed through Nykin as he looked down at the two of them together. To be marked as a dragon rider was a great honor.

“Not everyone with the mark grows up and wants to become bonded to a dragon, but those who do have to go through the bonding ritual.” He pulled his sleeve back down and waited for everyone to get settled again before continuing. “When those of us with the mark reach the age of twenty-one, we can choose to be bonded to a dragon. Not everyone’s compatible, and there are only a finite number of dragons, so even then it’s not guaranteed.”

He shared a meaningful look with Selene before carrying on. They both knew how lucky they were. “Then Eldin, the lead dragon rider, meets with the potential rider at the landing caves in the Eyrie. He introduces each available dragon in turn. When the magic of the mark detects a match, it glows brightly, and both dragon and rider will feel a slight pull as they try to connect.”

“Can you not hear your dragon until you’re bonded?” Avelor asked, leaning close again to get another look at Nykin’s mark.

“No.” Nykin tried not to react when Ryneq moved his hand onto Nykin’s thigh, letting it rest heavily against him. “The connection only works after the bond is made.” Nykin swallowed thickly as Ryneq inched his fingers a fraction higher.

“Ahh, I see.” Avelor moved back beside Faelon and motioned for Nykin to carry on.

“The bond is forged using dragon magic. It’s an old rite, from over two hundred years ago, and I need Fimor to explain it to you properly.”

“It’s a blood rite, Nykin. The first dragons to settle in Torsere mixed their blood with that of their riders, thus binding their bodies and minds together until such time as the bond is broken. The blood of both rider and dragon is drawn with a silver dagger and mixed on a slate made from Draceth K’ohl.”

Nykin repeated what Fimor told him, word for word, to the rapt audience surrounding him. The fading sun cast long shadows along the beach, giving the whole setting an ethereal feel to it.

“Draceth K’ohl?” Faelon’s voice was barely more than a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the air of wonder that had settled around them. “What’s that?”