Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 15

The Cannibal's eyes bore into her, glowing like twin emerald infernos. It wasn't just a look—it was an unspoken challenge, a test of will. And yet, within that piercing gaze, there was something else. Recognition. As if he saw straight through her skin, her bones, down into the very essence of who she was.

Then, without warning, he exhaled.

A blast of hot breath roared from his nostrils, so powerful it sent her stumbling back a step, wind-whipped and breathless. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest as she stared up at the ancient beast, her feet rooted in the sand.

And then—he moved.

Lowering himself slowly to the ground, wings folding inward, he dipped his massive head and chest in a gesture that was unmistakable.

He was inviting her to climb.

She blinked, stunned. Oh my gods... this is actually happening.

This wasn't just any dragon. This was the Cannibal—ancient, unclaimed, and the most untamable of them all. Yet somehow, impossibly, he was letting her claim him.

Hands shaking, Aenyra approached, placing her foot carefully onto one of the ridges near his foreleg. The climb was anything but graceful. She slipped once, her foot skidding against a slick scale, but she caught herself. Gritting her teeth, she climbed higher, muscles burning from the effort. Finally, with one last push, she swung her leg over and settled into place between the curve of his shoulder blades.

Her breaths came fast, each one laced with disbelief. She was on him. She had done it.

The instant The Cannibal felt her weight, he surged upward with a force that knocked the wind from her lungs.

"Seven hells!" Aenyra screamed, clutching tightly to the thick ridges of his neck, her knuckles white. The wind howled around her as he ascended like a shadow loosed from the earth, climbing faster, higher, with every beat of his massive wings.

She couldn't see, couldn't think—only feel. The sky tore past her, and still he rose, slicing through the clouds like a spear. Her scream echoed into the night, raw and wild, until it was swallowed by the wind.

And then—just as suddenly—he leveled out.

Above the clouds now, the stars were brighter, the moon nearer. The air was thin and biting cold, but Aenyra was too stunned to notice. Her eyes opened slowly, tears clinging to her lashes from the force of the wind.

She wasn't dreaming.

The Cannibal dipped suddenly, sharp and low like a cresting ocean wave. Aenyra let out a breathless gasp, her heart leaping to her throat as her body lifted slightly off his back. His enormous wings twisted through the air with a deliberate roll, and she could feel it in her bones—he was playing with her.

He's toying with me...

Her hands clamped around the ridged scales of his neck with a grip that could've bent steel.

Okay, step one: don't fall off.
Check.

He leveled again, wings stretching wide to catch the wind, and the motion smoothed into something gentler—steadier. Her pulse was still racing, but her fear had melted into exhilaration. Carefully, she let go with one hand, her fingers brushing across his rough, leathery hide. The scales beneath her touch were warm, hard as stone and ancient as time.

A low rumble vibrated through him—a deep, gravelly purr that rolled from his throat and into her chest.

The sound caught her by surprise.

He likes it, she realized, stunned. He likes me.

That small truth gave her the courage to sit up straighter, to breathe easier. For the first time since they had taken off, Aenyra looked around—not down, not at her hands clinging for life—but truly around.