Varnog roared his release, his arms tightening in an almost bruising fashion around me while his soul closed in around mine, sweeping me away. We collapsed in each other’s embrace, stars dancing before my eyes. I felt utterly bereft in the few seconds he moved away from me to discard the used condom before his strong arms once more pulled me tightly against him. My head buried in the crook of his neck, wrapped in the heat of his muscular body, I fell asleep feeling safe and loved in the arms of my true mate. I was home.
Our departure from Khepri was uneventful, as was the twelve-day journey to Kryptor. While Varnog and I continued our training through Dream Walks, we also spent a great deal of time simply getting to know each other and deepening our bond. I hated the restrictions on our intimacy, but my man didn’t allow it to interfere with our strengthening relationship.
Seeing how he had always been so sarcastic, ruthless, and flat out rude with people he disliked, I never would have suspected the sweet, devoted, and attentive male that hid behind his savage exterior. Varnog loved surprising me with unexpected thoughtfulness; from breakfast in bed to foot massages, and finally this little trip over the Dragons Rise.
We had just entered the dream world scenario that should have been the Queen’s Palace district of Kryptor. Instead, we were standing on the plateau where the Dragons usually trained their young at flying. I gaped at my mate, wondering if he had accidentally summoned the wrong setting, but his mischievous grin told me otherwise.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Today, you’re truly going to learn how to fly,” Varnog said smugly.
I smiled, guessing where that was going and carefully chose my words not to disappoint him too much, considering what a thoughtful plan this had been.
“That’s very sweet of you,” I said wrapping my arms around his waist. “However, as you can guess, one of the first things I did once I’d learned how to create Dream Walks was to give myself wings and fly.”
Far from being fazed, Varnog’s smile broadened, looking even more smug—if that were possible.
“No, my love. You didn’t fly. You recreated your interpretation of what flying is,” he countered. “You are about to experience what it truly feels like for a Dragon, from the strain on their wings and on the muscles of their backs, to navigating the wind currents, dealing with gravity, and everything else in between.”
My jaw dropped, and a spark of excitement lit in the pit of my stomach while a million questions popped in my head.
“How would you know what it feels like?” I asked.
“Because yesterday, when you asked me about my training session ending early, I gave you a partial truth,” Varnog said with a sheepish look. “When you were coming down the ramp, Reaper and I had indeed been discussing the mission. However, prior to that, both he and Bane allowed me to read their memories as far as their subconscious could recall regarding the first time their wings came out and when they began learning how to fly. And then, they coached me through recreating that experience as realistically as possible through a Dream Walk.”
“They did that for you?” I asked, my throat tightening at such a generous gesture from the Dragons to allow their memories to be thus invaded at no personal benefit to themselves.
“No, my love. They did that for you as a mating gift,” Varnog said.
Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to keep them in check. Throwing my arms around his neck, I all but pulled myself up to crush his lips with a passionate kiss filled with gratitude and the love blooming in my heart. I knew he had been the one to approach them with this request. I could only imagine how much it must have cost him to expose himself to potential rejection. And that the two men would have not only gone along with it but also helped him perfect the scenario just for me touched me beyond words.
“You are so amazing,” I whispered against his lips while he chuckled and wrapped me with loving psychic energy. “And so humble. There’s nothing wrong with taking credit for the wonderful things you do,” I added in a gently chastising tone. “No one has ever done anything like this for me.”
“Good,” Varnog said, looking adorably embarrassed, “because I intend to spoil you often.”
It struck me yet again that my man was not used to receiving compliments or for anyone to show him gratitude; a problem I definitely needed to rectify.
“Come on, let’s start by giving you wings,” he said in a gruff voice to hide his shyness.
I bit the inside of my cheeks to stop my smile and nodded. There was something incredibly adorable about seeing such an intimidating and powerful male looking almost timid. No one would ever believe me if I were to describe how cute and cuddly the Scelk leader could be.
I stared in surprise at him extending both his hands towards me. Although I wondered about its purpose, I didn’t question it and took both of them while we stood face to face.
“Brace for it,” he said with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes that immediately made me suspicious and worried, but in a good kind of way.
Even though I didn’t put it past him to mess with me, I knew he wouldn’t allow any harm to come to me.
The tingle in my back rapidly turned into an itching sensation. I instinctively tried to pull one of my hands from his grasp so that I could scratch, but he tightened his hold. I squirmed while glaring at him, which only made his grin broaden.
“For the young Dragons, growing their wings is almost like teething for our young,” Varnog explained. “For Janaurians—and by extension Scelks—teething is not painful, but it does itch terribly.”
Which immediately reminded me of my psychic sisters who had mated Warriors or Dragons. The itching along their necks and shoulders had nearly driven them crazy as they developed their mantels: the beautiful scales given to them by their mates after bonding.
Thankfully, my mate accelerated the process, and the itching only lasted a few seconds before a sharp sting was quickly followed by the sensation of my wings coming out of my back. It was an incredible feeling, nothing like the simulations I had created in my own Dream Walks. In retrospect, it struck me as a little silly to have never thought of asking one of the Dragons to pull me into a more realistic one.
But excitement soon gave way to a partial panic as the muscles in my back started straining as my wings attempted to pull me backwards. Varnog’s hold on my hands tightened, and I finally understood why he had held them to begin with. In my previous simulations, I had not accounted for the weight of the wings and how they would force me to revisit the way I handled my equilibrium and weight distribution to avoid toppling over.
Here, too, he slightly accelerated the process, but nowhere near as much as he had with growing my wings. In fact, he made me go through strengthening my back muscles by flapping my wings slowly while we walked around, him backwards and me following. I almost felt drunk the way I swayed this way and that, trying to keep my balance. He was all but dying with laughter as I cussed up a storm every time he had to yank me back into a straighter position as I was all but falling on my ass.
Still, it was the most fun I’d had in a long time. We didn’t actually fly around in that first simulation. Although he had been willing to speed the whole thing, I forced him to slow down. This was my one opportunity to truly learn what it was like, and I didn’t want to rush through it. Just like I had done in the US Air Force, here too, I would earn my wings the right way.