Page 38 of Tailwind

I turned back to Cosia, who had remained calm among the whirlwind of the last well wishes.

‘You’re grateful to Theo, aren’t you?’ I asked her, adjusting the straps of her reins. ‘It’s better to have some quiet time before we fly.’

‘I don’t think any rider has been as soft as you when it comes to their wyvern.’ Theo leaned against the smooth stone brick wall, hands in his pockets.

‘Oh please. Like you don’t talk with yours too. I hear your motivational speeches before each race.’

He blew an errant curl out of his eyes. ‘I talk to my mount, not with them. You’re the only one who waits for a reply.’

There was no weight to his teasing words. He knew I couldn’t help it. Still, he was the only one who knew quite how much I loved each mount I’d raced with over the years. Sharing an aviary with my other teammates had been a trial in itself, trying not to show how much I cared. It was hard enough being the only girl in the sport without them all judging me for putting drakes and wyverns on an equal par with humans.

‘Jealous I’m not this nice to you?’ I was never one to turn down a chance to spar. Not with anyone, but it was especially invigorating with Theo. His ego was the easiest spot to aim for.

‘I don’t think you could even if you tried. Scales trump skin for the Paldon sisters.’ He brought Cam into it, naturally. My own weak spot.

My mouth was already open to tell him the wyverns smelled better than his overpowering perfume, when I noticed he was keeping his left arm away from the wall.

‘Come here.’ I stepped towards him before he had a chance to move, grabbing his elbow and raising it up. ‘Does it hurt?’

He sucked in a breath of surprise.

‘It stings a bit, that’s all.’

‘Wimp,’ I teased, but I was gentle when pushing back his sleeve, revealing the back of his bicep.

Fast and fair. The tattoo was healing well. The dark ink was bold against his arm, the edges just as crisp as my matching one.

I left to rummage through my locker, pulling out the moisturizer Theo had given me, replacing the apparently cheap one the artist had sent us home with. Theo hadn’t moved when I returned, just watched me as I opened the lid.

‘Here, put some more on before we get ready. I don’t want you blaming your loss on this.’

‘Oh, I’m not the one losing today.’ He turned so I could get a better angle.

I huffed, not wasting anything more on telling him what he already knew – it was me who would be winning. I scooped out some of the fancy cream and smoothed it out on his arm. The coolness vanished instantly against Theo’s warmth. Yet he shivered at the touch.

‘Your turn,’ he said, taking me by the shoulders to turn me around. ‘You’re not above lame excuses either.’

‘I won’t need an excuse. I’m going to win.’

His hand tensed as he tried to hold back his laughter before gently rubbing over my tattoo. I let myself smirk. I didn’t shudder in the slightest.

Once we were dressed in our flight suits I grabbed my helmet and held it out to him. My rider number, eight, splashed red against the royal blue.

‘Fast and fair?’ I asked, knowing exactly how he would answer. Ten years of racing side by side had taught me everything I could possibly know about Theo.

He lifted his helmet and bumped it against mine. It was a mirror image, except his number seven reminded us both that our competition would never end. One of us always had to be that little bit better.

‘Fast and fair,’ he replied. I knew he meant it too. For all our competitiveness I knew I could trust Theo Vaspre. He was my teammate. My best friend. And he always would be.

One corner left and the win was mine. I was in first place and had been for two laps. Third place, the little rookie kid, had no chance of catching up. Second place though was Theo.

I glanced over my shoulder. After overtaking him earlier he’d been closing his distance lap by lap. I grinned inside my helmet. The remaining corner was too tight for a clean overtake.

I tapped my heels on Cosia’s ribs. Her forelegs tucked in, bringing her wings with them. We shot downwards, tilting around the corner. The finish line was within sight.

A streak of royal blue slashed with red shot in front of me.

I pulled hard on my wyvern’s reins. Alarmed, she flung out her wings. The air dragged at us. It took precious seconds to rein in the risk of her spiralling to the ground.