“Among the Dakkari, there are recorded moments in your history where your own Vorakkar, your own horde kings, have claimed they’ve been led by your goddess, Kakkari. That a feeling of knowing came over them. I believe I heard it referred to as ‘Kakkari’s guiding light’ once,” he said.

“Yes, that’s true,” I said, knowing the exact accounts he was speaking of. “Arokan of Rath Kitala, one of the greatest horde kings of our history, specifically said he felt it when he saw his human queen, Luna, for the first time.”

He inclined his head.

“Whether they felt it for their chosen wives or difficult decisions that needed to be made, it was there,” he continued. “I believe that the Karag feel something similar, though we are not quite as romantic about it as your people. We believe they are deeply intuitive decisions that you feel with your own instinct. That perhaps they are even powered by heartstone energy at times, threading through the earth and into your body, magnetic or electrical impulses.”

“I prefer the romantic view,” I informed him.

He chuckled, low and soft. My shoulders relaxed, wishing I could bottle that richly warm laugh. “I thought you might.”

“That’s what you felt when you chose Zaridan?”

“Yes,” he said. “I camped out on the cliffside for two nights until I saw her. I almost thought I wouldn’t bond with an Elthika at all. The doubt was the worst because it made you desperate. That’s what I think happened to Haden.”

“I didn’t ask because I wanted to talk about what happened,” I told him, biting my lip, worried he might think that. I reached out to touch his arm, though my hand hovered above his skin, uncertain.

He reached out, snagging my hand immediately. He threaded our fingers together, holding tight. I looked down at the back of his hand, tracing over the scars that sliced over his flesh, and then I placed my other hand on top of his. I stroked the ridges of his knuckles and the bones of his wide hands.

“I know,” he said, frowning over at me. “I didn’t think that.”

“What did you mean, then?” I asked. “You thought Haden was desperate?”

“Back then, Zaridan and Lygath were nearly inseparable,” Sarkin told me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zaridan’s ear twitch at the sound of her brother’s name. “You didn’t see one without the other. But Zaridan and me…we chose each other that day. It felt like a bolt of lightning, like Muron’s lightning, struck right through me.

“Haden watched from the cliffside as I took my first flight with her. He saw Lygath, not far away. We had already been there for a while. We were low on sleep. He saw me claim Zaridan, and he went after Lygath. I was too high up when I saw Lygath reject him. When I watched my friend fall to his death.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my expression drawing tight.

Sarkin heard the pain in my voice, and he looked at me closely. He told me, “I’ve made my peace with what happened, aralye. Haden made his own choice. I could not have seen that outcome. I don’t feel guilt anymore, but I certainly used to.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I argued softly. “Not at all.”

“It’s strange the tricks the mind can play on you” was all he told me. “But all of this to say…this time of year always bring these memories forward. This year more than ever.”

Because of me was what went unspoken.

“If you don’t want to do this, Klara, I would free you of this obligation,” he said next. “There has never been a queen of Sarroth with no bonded Elthika, but I feel there is change coming for my people. Perhaps you can be the first.”

He was…giving me a way out?

I breathed out a rough exhale. How easy it would be to tell him that I was frightened. That I was scared an Elthika might not choose me. That I would be an embarrassment to him, to the horde.

But I knew, as surely as I was afraid, that I would never be able to live with the decision to give up.

“I will go to the Tharken cliffs. I’ll claim an Elthika of my own. That I promise you,” I answered.

Sarkin dragged in a deep breath, making his shoulders raise. He nodded.

“There was a part of me that hoped you’d say no,” he admitted. “Because at least I’d know then that you would be safe.”

I jolted. But before I could say anything, I heard the distant flap of wings and a strange symphony of sound.

“They’re here,” Sarkin said, standing, pulling me up with him, scanning the sky. He turned and then said, “There.”

He pointed in the distance, behind us. Next to the nearest mountain range, I saw a massive shadow moving toward us.

I gasped when I heard something sizzle musically in the sky and saw a bright white star shoot across the sky in a beautiful flash before disintegrating. “Was that one?”

“Yes,” Sarkin replied, and I could hear the small smile in his tone. I could feel his gaze on me, watching me as I debated what to look at next—the sky for more falling stars or the horde of wild, unbonded Elthika that were coming straight toward us.

I settled on the Elthika finally.

Zaridan trilled, a sound I’d never heard from her before. It sounded like a call. It sounded delicate. She lifted her head high into the sky.

“Thryn’ar,” Sarkin commanded. The earth began to rumble, the familiar sensation of Zaridan pulling energy toward her, and then she launched herself off the ground to join the horde.

To join the celebration, I realized, moments later. Because that was what it was.

Hundreds of Elthika were flying together, very nearly blocking out the entire expanse of the sky as they drew closer and closer.

I watched them dance. They swayed and weaved in the moonlit sky, dipping and circling together, flaring their wings wide or gliding them close to their bodies.

And the music…

When I closed my eyes, I heard their song. It was like the sy’asha, the whispered song of their scales, only it was joined by trills and guttural bellows. The beat of their wings were like the sound of drums. They produced a symphony in the sky, echoing off the mountain ranges and funneling its way down the valley and meadows. It struck a chord within me, making tears burn in my eyes.

Before I knew it they were right overhead, the gust of their wings creating a storm of wind, whipping my hair, tangling my dress against my ankles. I tracked Zaridan, watching as she joined their dance, swooping overhead in a looping motion, making me smile. She let out a longing cry.

“She’s looking for Lygath,” Sarkin observed quietly, as if he didn’t want to interrupt their song or the awe of this moment.

That breaks my heart, I couldn’t help but think as I squeezed Sarkin’s hand.

For long moments, we watched the hundreds of Elthika overhead, a special performance that I hoped I could see every year. We said nothing, but he kept my hand in his. Sarkin had gone out of his way to share this with me…I would never forget that.

Falling stars sizzled and glittered in the sky behind the Elthika, a magical backdrop that seemed too ethereal to be real.

When we finally sank back down onto the blankets, I was grinning, watching the Elthika continue their way due west. Toward the coast. Toward the Tharken cliffs. Zaridan was still flying with them, but I knew she would return to us before the night’s end.

Sarkin was quiet, watching me, and I spied something in his expression that I’d never seen before. Something that made my skin tingle, awareness making me shiver. An expression that made my heart begin to throb in my chest, a caged little monster wanting to be free.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said, a little breathless, feeling more of the wall between us chip away. “I’ll never forget this.”

The scales on Sarkin’s vest rustled together when he shifted forward. He wrapped his hand into the wild tendrils of my hair. I was open to his touch, lifting my chin.