Violet and Verde Read Free

in a kiss, the wind trying to tear them apart as they clung ever tighter.
    Ave could feel them dropping, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her was that she have this man, the sooner, the better.
    Rak held her close, but he did make some effort to regain their lost airflow, his wings spreading, tilting, catching the wind once more.
    They soared up, and Ave turned in his arms, so that he was above her, still holding her, and her wings spread as well. Now, they flew as one, the action of their wings synchronized. It was even better than flying alone had been. But her wings trembled now, and her back was aching from shoulder to the bottom of her ribs, all along the line of her wing bases, where the muscles attached. Rak seemed to understand her predicament, because he forced them down, back onto Scorth’s back, and massaged her back until her spasming muscles finally relented and allowed her wings to furl.
    By the time she was feeling well enough to look around, Scorth had landed in a cave, probably one of the many dragon-dens that lined the plateau. Ave sat up and saw her suspicions confirmed.
    Scorth ambled forward, out of the mouth of the cave and into a sandy area that was probably his nest.
    Rak gathered Ave into his arms and leaped down before a protest could form on her lips. As soon as he landed, he set her down and said, “I did not want your wings to cramp further, m’lady. You need to rest the muscles after over-exerting them like that.”
    “Thank you,” she told him, trying to pack all her gratitude into those two simple words. Finding them insufficient to the task, she added, “That was the most incredible experience of my life. Thank you for that. Thank you both.”
    “You are welcome, of course,” said Rak, as he helped her over to the stone walkway that bordered the sandy nest.
    Scorth curled up in his sand with a gusty, meat-scented sigh.
    Rak led her further into the artificial cave, where another chamber opened into this one. The ceiling of this new chamber was much lower, though still comfortably high. She guessed that this was Rak’s quarters, though most Thezi riders had a cell in the temple as well.
    She liked the simplicity of the black oak furnishings, which reflected a spare, but elegant, style. The chamber wasn’t set up for entertaining either, for the sleeping area was merged with the living area with little differentiation between them. The bed was double width, which surprised her a little, for as a single man, what need did he have for the wider surface? There was a stuffed dark green leather chair that had seen better days, and a couch, equally battered, in dark grey leather. They faced a low black oak table across from a tall bookcase that was mostly filled with odd objects and tools rather than with books. There was a desk along the wall next to the bookcase, its surface clean but for a scant handful of scrolls, the inkpot and a small selection of quills. She also noticed a small pile of bleached white bones in the corner near the chair. She wondered about that but did not ask.
    “White or red?” Rak asked her as she sat on the couch.
    “Red, please,” she said.
    Rak opened a bottle and poured two glasses full of the standard Okyran red wine.
    He handed hers over before he sat down beside her. “This isn’t much,” he said quietly, “but it is very private. No one will overhear us here.”
    She sipped, savoring the sweet spiciness of the vintage, taking a moment to gather herself for what was to come. “I like you a lot,” she said frankly.
    Rak regarded her expressionlessly. “But?” he prompted, tone gentle.
    “My mother is worried about our friendship.” Ave sighed. “She thinks I’ll hurt you. After years of urging me to find a man, now she’s trying to warn me off one. You.”
    Rak’s elegant red eyebrow twitched, and Ave found herself admiring his profile again, even as he scoffed, “Your mother thinks that you will hurt me ? Why ever for?”
    Ave