Page 97 of Ashborne: Defiance

We both turned and stopped walking as Bren, fresh-faced and in her leathers, her brunette hair braided back, and the Furyknight pin shining on her lapel, sprinted up the path. Her smile was so wide it split her face. “It is you! Thank God, I’m so relieved!” She threw herself into my chest and I hugged her, smiling—then scowling when she planted a kiss on my cheek. I dropped her immediately, wiping my face and cursing while she laughed.

“Pah! What are you—”

“Where’s Gil, and who—”

Bren turned and froze, staring at Grace. “Holy shit… Grace?!”

Grace beamed, but I felt her nerves as she bobbed an awkward curtsey, then blushed and waved a hand. “Hi. Yes. I… I’m here—oh!”

Bren threw herself at Grace, hugging her tightly, and laughing.

My heart warmed as Grace sank into her embrace, near tears with joy. Both women beamed as they stepped back, both still holding each other’s hands. Bren peppering her with questions, and Grace babbling snippets of explanation between exclamations about how happy she was to see Bren.

She bounced on her toes, and hugged Bren again, before launching into a story about Koa—while Bren’s eyes went wider with every second.

“She seems confident about the dragon,” Ronen commented, too quietly for the women to hear.

I snorted. “Reckless, more like.”

“Interesting.”

“Fucking annoying, actually. Give her an instruction and she launches into the dance before you’ve even finished telling her the steps.”

Ronen didn’t respond. We watched the two women bounce and hug and gasp at each other.

“And your dragons are bonded, you say?” Ronen offered in that overly casual tone again.

“Don’t start.”

“It’s just that, when Bren and Donavyn’s dragons bonded—”

“Her dragon is feral, and barely knows our language. Don’t expect her to know the intricacies of herd bonds or how they might affect us,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets and desperately searching for a way to divert the conversation. “We’re going to have to help Grace understand etiquette and herd dynamics more than the usual Flameborne—Koa won’t be able to teach her.”

“I’m sure Kham will help,” he said.

I felt his eyes on the side of my face, but kept my gaze on the women. “I’m sure he will. He’s besotted with Koa—and she’s learning quickly, according to him. It won’t be a problem for long. It’s just unfortunate that it will be worst at the beginning of Grace’s training.”

“Wait, you’re Chosen!?” Bren gasped.

Grace nodded quickly, her eyes welling again, and I felt that pinch in my chest—the warm flood of her thrill twisting around the aching hollow that was there, too.

I caught myself fighting a smile as Bren threw her arms around Grace’s neck, and they squeezed each other tightly. “We have to get you Acknowledged!” Bren squealed. “Ronen, did you hear?”

“Yes!” Ronen raised his voice to make sure they’d both hear him. “That’s why I sent someone to find the general—is he coming?”

“I’m here.” A deep, gruff voice rose from the shadows behind the stable path from which we’d emerged moments before.

Ronen, Bren, and I snapped to attention as our general, and Battle Commander, and Bren’s dragonbond mate, Donavyn, trotted toward us.

Grace was flustered for a moment, then quickly attempted to mimic Bren’s posture and stance. Which looked ridiculous and adorable, as she clamped a fisted hand to her chest over a stableboy’s linen shirt, and that very dirty blue cloak.

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or roll my eyes. She wasn’t yet sworn in, and clearly had no idea. But it was good that she made an effort.

But Donavyn muttered at all of us to be at ease, and with only a passing glance at Bren, walked straight to Grace, to offer his hand and bow over it as he had when they met in the neighboring kingdom of Fyrehold, acknowledging her high birth.

Ronen frowned.

“Oh. Yeah. She’s a noble,” I muttered.