The wind from their wings lashed around me, whipping my hair into a wild tangle that stung my face with every gust. The cold returned in full force, biting into my skin like an unwelcome predator. Below, the ground stretched as a dizzying expanse—a blurred canvas of muted colours and shadows far beneath us. The sheer drop was a dangerous reminder of the peril I faced, and the danger pulsed in time with every frantic beat of my heart.

Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, the primal instinct for survival taking over with relentless force. My breath quickened, shallow and sharp, each inhale an act of desperation as adrenaline coursed through my veins. My heart thundered in my chest, a relentless drumbeat of fear that grew louder with each passing second.

I clung to Riyal’s shoulders with a grip so tight my fingers ached. My nails dug into the fabric of his uniform, pressing into the solid muscle beneath. I could feel his warmth through the material, but even that wasn’t enough to chase away the bone-deep chill. When my grip tightened further, a sharp intake of breath from Riyal told me he wasn’t immune to the pain of my desperation.

The thought of slipping from his grasp, of plummeting through the air with no wings to save me, clawed at my mind. It was a nightmare I couldn’t shake, an all-consuming terror that made me cling to him even harder, my fear clear in every strained muscle of my body.

What if Riyal lost his grip? My mind whispered. What if a sudden gust of wind threw us off balance?

My thoughts spiralled deeper into the abyss of dread, and my frantic hold on Riyal tightened further, driven by the irrational but overwhelming belief that it might keep me safe. I felt like a cat avoiding a bath.

"You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you pass me around hundreds of feet in the air, you fucking flying gecko bastard!" I screeched at Zaydon, my voice cutting sharply through the chaotic cacophony of wind.

Riyal flinched at my outburst, his muscles tensing beneath my grasp. Despite the venom in my tone and the panic that had overtaken me, his hold on me didn’t falter. His arms remained firm and steady, as though his resolve to protect me outweighed the storm of emotions swirling between us.

A low, menacing growl rumbled through the air, its source unmistakable. Zaydon. The sound was primal, a guttural vibration that reverberated deep in my bones and sent a shiver coursing through me. It wasn’t just a warning; it was a promise. Charged with a fury so potent, even the relentless rush of wind couldn’t drown its weight.

Zaydon's crimson gaze burned brighter, sharp and unrelenting, a glaring manifestation of his unravelling patience. His presence was suffocating, a raw storm of unchecked emotion threatening to consume everything in its path. The power radiating off him felt almost tangible, a force I couldn't escape even if I tried. His fiery gaze seemed to demand my obedience, but in my fear-driven state, defiance surged through me instead, only fueling the silent battle between us.

And yet, without warning, something shifted. The fire in his eyes dimmed, his movements softening as though tethered by an unseen force. The rage that had burned so fiercely in him moments before began to ebb, replaced by something deeper. It wasn’t submission but a flicker of restraint, an emotion that tempered the tempest threatening to consume him.

That fleeting moment passed across his features like a shadow, subtle yet impossible to ignore. Whatever it was—regret, determination, or something entirely unspoken—it steadied him, halting the storm of his fury. It was as though an internal battle had stilled if only for a moment, changing the course of what might have been an inevitable collision of wills.

Hovering nearby, his crimson gaze remained fierce, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanour. The rigid tension in his frame eased, the unyielding dominance giving way to a quieter, more deliberate intent. Despite this change, his presence remained commanding, a potent reminder of the storm he held in check.

Then, gently, with surprising care, Zaydon reached toward me, his hands brushing against my waist. His touch was unexpectedly tender, and the action was so at odds to the fury that had defined him moments before.

"Az, I will not do anything that would cause you harm. I promise you. So please, just trust me," he said, his voice low and soothing, a calm balm against the chaos of my fear.

The sincerity in his tone anchored me, cutting through the whirlwind of my panic. It was a lifeline, one I clung to despite the turmoil inside me. My grip on Riyal loosened, my body trembling as the fight drained from me. Slowly, hesitantly, I allowed myself to be shifted from Riyal’s arms to Zaydon’s.

The moment I was within his grasp, Zaydon moved with a commanding swiftness that left no room for hesitation. His arms wrapped around me in a decisive, protective motion, pulling me firmly against his chest. His embrace was unlike Riyal’s gentler hold; it radiated an intensity that was equal parts protective and possessive. The warmth of his body seeped into mine, a vivid contradiction to the cold wind that had battered me moments before. There was no mistaking the unyielding resolve in his hold. It didn’t feel like he was just carrying me; it felt like he was claiming me. I found some comfort in that notion and relaxed against him, my body surrendering to the comfort he provided, even as my mind raced with conflicting emotions.

Riyal, his expression a mix of relief and unease, retreated without a word. His wings beat furiously as he distanced himself from us, leaving Zaydon to carry me the rest of the way. I couldn’t blame him. Zaydon’s earlier rage was enough to make anyone flee, and I wished I had my own wings to escape this emotional rollercoaster.

As Zaydon’s wings carried us through the twilight sky, the warmth of his body continued to seep into me, a soothing balm against the chill that had threatened to consume me earlier. His temperature, higher than any human’s, felt like a shield against the biting cold, wrapping me in a cocoon of heat.

Even so, I couldn’t shake the confusion and irritation bubbling within me. Zaydon’s behaviour—his possessiveness, his extremes—was a whirlwind I couldn’t untangle. Was he jealous? Had he misunderstood what had happened with Riyal? Or was this just another layer of the complex, infuriating man who seemed determined to leave me emotionally breathless?

I sighed, exhaustion settling over me like a heavy cloak. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and orange. The rhythmic beating of Zaydon’s wings filled the silence, a steady sound that began to soothe my frayed nerves.

Without realising it, I nestled closer to him, letting his warmth and the even cadence of his wings lull me into a state of calm. My thoughts, tangled and restless, began to quiet as my eyelids grew heavy.

As I drifted into sleep, the last thing I saw was Zaydon’s face, his features softened by the fading light of dusk. At that moment, with the chaos of the day fading into the background, I allowed myself to feel safe in his arms, even if I couldn’t yet understand why.

I woke sometime later, slightly disoriented, the memory of falling asleep in Zaydon’s arms clashing with the reality of waking in my bedroom in the castle. The eerie glow of my nightlight bathed the room in an unsettling dimness, casting faint shadows that danced across the walls. As I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the softness of the blankets slipping away, my heart raced, trying to piece together how I had gotten here.

The last thing I remembered was the warmth of Zaydon’s embrace, the steady rhythm of his wings carrying us through the sky. Now, that comforting presence was gone, replaced by the faint chill of my bedroom and the silence that hung heavy in the air. Glancing at the small clock on the bedside table, I held my breath, praying I hadn’t overslept.

I guessed I’d been asleep for no more than an hour. It was 7 p.m., and we had been flying back around sunset, usually at 6 p.m. in autumn. With winter’s approach, the sun might have set earlier, meaning my rest could have been a little longer.

My eyes drifted to my body, and I guessed that while I was asleep, my ladies-in-waiting had dressed me in a long-sleeved silver nightgown. The delicate fabric shimmered with a faint, ghostly glow in the dim light, its coolness so different from the warmth of the bed I had just left. I ran my fingers over the smooth, almost icy material, appreciating the elegance of their choice.

But then a surge of resolve pushed me to my feet, the gown whispering around my legs as I moved. I was determined to find my father so that I could hopefully find Zaydon—to confront him about our kiss and everything else that had followed after it. A fierce blush crept up my cheeks at the memory, my heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and dread.