The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 183: Breathe, girls!

Chapter 183: Breathe, girls!

He looked at them both, and added with a lift of his brow, "Dragons do prefer lighter riders. Still, more important than weight is control. In the sky, you must learn to lead. If a dragon panics, if he goes berserk, you have to be the one who reigns in his power."

Gloria blinked, turning to Ren in confusion. "What does that even mean? It’s too vague."

Ren gave a small shrug. "I don’t know. I haven’t tried it in real flight... not yet."

She looked toward her father, the King of Alvonia, who was already watching them with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Do you want to give it a try?" he asked, voice light but full of challenge.

"The three of us?" Ren glanced at the saddle, brows raised.

"Yes," the King said. "I have a three-seater saddle. We’ll switch it out."

Gloria’s hand slid along Sunkiath’s side. The dragon let out a low, vibrating growl, not hostile, but aware. She looked up, concerned. "Are we not too heavy for him?"

The King laughed, full-throated and fond. "No. You two are featherlight. And Sunkiath is colossal."

He was right. One of Sunkiath’s scales was as large as a man’s arm, thick, gleaming, and ancient, like armor forged by time itself. Could it break at all?

"Take the potion," the King advised. "It will protect your lungs from the sulfur."

Ren handed one vial to Gloria and kept one for herself. They uncorked them in unison and drank.

"Mmm, it tastes like vanilla!" Gloria exclaimed, surprised.

"I have to learn how to make this potion," Ren murmured, her curiosity sparking like a firelight. In the Dreamland, they’d never been taught this particular craft. Her mother’s first beast had been a Griffin, and Ren had never encountered the second one: the dragon.

"You’re not bonded yet," the King reminded them. "So we take it slow. Once in the air, hold tight to your seats."

He turned and ordered the dragon keeper and nearby vassals to bring the special saddle. As they moved to comply, a question struck Ren suddenly.

"Why a three-seat saddle?"

The King paused. His expression, often stern and unreadable, shifted, softened by memory.

"One was for my wife," he said quietly. "One for me. And the third... was made for you, our child."

A silence settled over them. Reneira’s heart ached. So many dreams, so many plans meant to soar through the skies like the dragons themselves... but fate had torn them away, burying their hopes beneath the silent, smoldering ashes of memory.

~*~

As the saddle was fastened securely along Sunkiath’s spine, the girls exchanged a look of mutual frustration. Finally, Gloria voiced what both were thinking.

"How are we supposed to climb him? His scales are like slick steel!"

Arkilla crept closer, cautious not to draw too much of the dragon’s attention. Her voice wavered between bravery and prayer.

"All alright, you goldie!" she called out gently. "Just stay there, chill a bit, and let me help my girls get on your back, hmm?"

The King chuckled, clearly entertained by the wolfless shifter’s nerves.

"He knows you’re harmless," he teased. "You don’t need to tremble like a lamb, little wolf."

Arkilla exhaled hard and took a few more steps. "Once we’re back in Thegara," she muttered, "remind me to teach you how to scale walls and jump like you mean it."

Gloria squinted at her. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Before Arkilla could answer, the King stepped forward with purpose. "Watch closely."

He grasped a rope along Sunkiath’s flank, and in one fluid motion, scaled upward, flipped mid-air, and landed squarely on the dragon’s back, balanced and effortless.

Ren blinked, her mouth parting slightly. "Ah... can we do that?"

"Yes, it will be difficult, but you’ll learn."

The King tossed the rope down with practiced ease. "For now, use this. Think of it as climbing a mountain."

Arkilla went first, helping Ren up. Ren slipped a few times but managed to find her grip on the rope and eventually settled into the saddle, breathing a little easier.

As for Gloria... she fell twice, and on the third attempt, Sunkiath had clearly grown tired of the delays. With a soft rumble, he unfurled his massive wings and lifted Gloria into place effortlessly, setting her atop his back.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, a flush creeping down to her neck. How clumsy can I be? she thought, mortified by her own awkwardness.

"Please accept my apologies, Your Highness," she stammered, her voice trembling with remorse.

The King nodded, his expression impassive, too impassive, in fact, making her feel even more exposed in her failure.

Without a word, he grabbed the hold arch of the saddle, guiding her hands to the right place. "Hold this part, the pommel. Don’t let go, no matter what. Lean forward just slightly, like this." He demonstrated, showing her the proper angle. "And don’t let your head drop too low; the wind will strain your neck. This is your first flight, so expect sore legs for a few days."

They followed his instructions carefully, and as they settled into their positions, they turned their gaze toward Arkilla and the dragon keeper, who were now retreating to give them space.

"Have fun, girls, don’t fall!" Arkilla’s voice echoed, fading as Sunkiath’s immense muscles tensed beneath them. The ground trembled with the deep thud of his massive legs, then came the powerful flap of his wings, sending gusts of wind that whipped their hair back.

"Thank you, sister!" Ren shouted over the roar of the wind.

"For what?" Arkilla’s voice was a distant question.

"For suggesting we braid our hair, or we’ll go bald!" Ren yelled as loudly as she could, hoping the wind didn’t swallow her words.

Arkilla’s grin was audible in her voice as she shouted back, "Gods, this is horrible!" Then, with a mischievous laugh, she covered her eyes with the grey sand swirling in the air around them.

Up in the sky, both Gloria and Ren felt their stomachs flip. The dizzying sensation was overwhelming at first, and their heads swam with the rush of wind. But then the King’s voice cut through the chaos: "Breathe, girls!"

They both inhaled sharply, realizing how foolish they had been, caught off guard by the sheer scale of the flight. Their feet slipped against the saddle’s surface, and they barely managed to adjust, clinging to the pommel for balance.

Visit freewe𝑏n(o)v𝒆l.𝑐𝘰𝑚 for the best novel reading experience

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.