Wrangler 4 (The Wrangler Saga) by Hondo Jinx

Author:Hondo Jinx [Jinx, Hondo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B092XNC4QP
Goodreads: 57814664
Publisher: #PrB.rating#4.82
Published: 2021-04-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

T hey soared through the sunbaked sky with incredible speed. Never across his wild menagerie of experiences had Braddock encountered something so utterly breathtaking as riding across the wastelands atop a dragon.

And not just any dragon.

This the great black dragon, Bellagarus, whom he recognized from the Dragon Conundrum’s stone etching as the faithful companion of the Dragon Prince himself, the largest dragon on all of Tardoon.

They rushed across the sky at three times the speed of the now unnecessary flying carpets.

Which was good because Braddock wanted to finish this task, fly back to the portal, and head home to the meadow, where his family was likely singing his praises and feasting their good fortune.

For Braddock’s double-bonding with the twins had changed everything.

Vinca and Vildia clung to the dragon’s back, squealing with delight, their scarlet-streaked black hair whipping in the wind.

He was still thrumming with post-bonding power, still coming to grips with the fact that this was his new normal, that this time, the flood of power inside him wasn’t going to ebb away.

He wondered if Philia felt the same way. He pictured her smiling face, gleaming with soft green light.

But until he could see that beautiful face with his own two eyes, he wouldn’t assume that all was well back at the meadow. It likely was, of course—as a full Meadow Mother, Philia now had irrefutable claim to the meadow and her handmaidens, and she possessed a powerful contingent of allies to help her hold that claim should Hortensia wish to go to war—but he still wouldn’t waste a second until he reached home.

His current mission, however, was crucial. It was a pressing matter of not only life and death but also right and wrong.

He rode atop the union of Bellagarus’s shoulders and neck, just forward of the great wings, which jutted out straight as they glided over the badlands, the dragon’s massive shadow racing before them in the morning sunlight.

There was no saddle, of course, nor did Braddock need one. He rode atop the bony ridge of the dragon’s backbone between two spikey protrusions that rose, curving, from Bellagarus’s spine like oversized, scaly, rose thorns.

Thanks to the ring’s magic, Braddock felt more comfortable atop Bellagarus than he would atop a saddled horse.

He was made to ride this dragon, and Bellagarus was made to carry him.

Braddock didn’t even need to hold on. The bond between rider and steed was that strong, that magical. No matter how Bellagarus maneuvered, Braddock would not fall away, not even if the dragon flew upside down.

Not since he was a boy charging atop a stallion had Braddock felt such an urge to holler with excitement. To ride atop this magnificent being, to feel the dragon’s unimaginable strength as they cut through the wind, shooting across the Red Vastness with all the speed of a striking falcon, this was everything he had been searching for across the years.

But he did not holler.

Shouting wasn’t his way. Also, he didn’t want to frighten Tralia, who rode behind him, her tiny arms clutching his abdomen tightly.

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