Page 33 of A Cursed Bite (Bound to the Enduar #1)

VANN

I had fallen asleep almost immediately after Arlet and I finished. But my long-needed rest did not last long.

Arlet thrashes in my arms and I am forced back into consciousness.

“What’s wrong?” I demand. I instinctively tighten my grip around her waist, pulling her closer as her body quakes.

At first, I think the threat is external. I seek out my cleaver—see it resting against the table—and press my hand to Arlet’s chest.

Her breath comes in shallow bursts.

I sit up, still trying to make sense of what is happening. She falls flat on the bed.

Then, her eyes snap open, black and unblinking, and her voice changes.

“This is your last warning: let me take her.”

Words spill out her mouth, cold and malevolent, as if someone else is speaking through her.

Fuck.

This has never happened, but I recognize the lilt of an elven accent. Arion . It has to be.

I snarl .

“She belongs to me now,"

My chest tightens. Fuck. No.

“Arlet?” I say, positioning myself over her immobile body.

“If you do not, she will leave a path of destruction in your wake. I will find her, no matter where you run. Any city that harbors you will burn."

The Elf King’s presence moves through her like poison. When I uncover a stiff leg, I find her curse mark glowing.

It’s activated and letting him in.

“Come on, Arlet,” I growl. I refuse to let Arion poison what we’ve just built.

I shake her.

No response.

Then she kicks me. Her fingers curl into claws.

No.

I need her back—my Arlet—before that darkness hurts one of us.

Without any other options, I grab her shoulders and lean in. My lips find hers in a desperate, searing kiss.

Her body goes still. Then, slowly, like breaking through a fog, her trembling eases, and her eyes return to normal. She blinks, waking from the nightmare.

“Thank Endu,” I breathe.

She pants through the pain. Her eyes find mine. They are sad. Tired.

So heartbreakingly weary.

"We need to go," she says, practically flinging off the bed. "Before it’s too late. We can’t let the city suffer."

I stand, trying to grab her wrist. “But we are supposed to leave in a few hours. We?—”

“We have to go now. Arion is searching for me. He will find this place, and the whole city will be destroyed. Dragon’s Reach has been hidden for hundreds of years and I will be the one to ruin it.”

“They have glamor,” I say. “We should go to Theren.”

She shakes her head.

“No. No more people. No more permission. We need to leave. I need this to be over. ”

I grab her wrist as she freezes, finally looking up at me. I know she is afraid, but this is not wise.

“But we can only do so on the back of a dragon.”

She takes a deep breath. “And it’s a good thing they spent a day teaching us to ride.”

“What? You can’t believe that one riding lesson is enough to prepare us.”

She rakes her fingers through her hair.

“Vann. Listen to me. When the darkness came, I saw Arion. Was in the room with him for a few moments. Remember the men that came to get me before we arrived? There are more. Two hundred archers. I can’t—” she breaks off. “I don’t want anyone else to die for me. We need to go.”

I watch her, biting my lip and thinking. Enduvida’s relationship with the elves was varied at the moment. We didn’t need any more enemies.

If we stay and risk Arion’s men finding us, then we could find ourselves in trouble with both Selric, and by extension, our only ally. Mrath.

But we couldn’t leave this place without saying anything. Not after they’d welcomed us as a guest.

We need their blessing.

“All right, we will leave. But we must tell Selric.”

She starts to protest, but I shake my head, cutting her off. “There is no reason why we shouldn’t. They are not friends with Arion. They deserve to know what is happening.”

Somehow, I find her in my arms again, seeking refuge. “I won’t put you in unnecessary danger.

She takes a deep breath, pressing into me, and I can remember every moment we shared just hours before.

Does she feel how the air between us is different? Realize I can’t stop touching her?

“Very well.”

I hesitate, then say, “Get dressed.”

She does so quickly, pulling on her tunic and boots before reaching for her coat, the heavy fabric settling around her shoulders. She slips on her gloves, fingers still trembling.

I do the same, tugging my shirt on, donning my coat and securing the gloves.

We grab our packs. Without a word, we sling them over our shoulders, and leave our room.

The moonlight cuts through the cliffs as we step into the cold night. Our footsteps are muffled on the cobblestone streets. The Vaer’Tharion’s mansion is nearby. We’d just had the party there hours ago. It’s so different now. Dark. Clean. Silent.

As we approach the metal entrance, I find one guard. He spots us immediately, assessing us before his hand hovers near the hilt of his sword.

“What’s your business?” he demands.

“We need to speak with Vaer’Tharion Selric,” I say in my mediocre elvish. “It’s a matter of life and death.”

The guard hesitates, then enters the mansion, motioning for us to wait. Moments later, the door creaks open, and we are let inside. Selric awaits in a long, golden robe.

“Our guests—what is the trouble?”

“Vaer’Tharion,” I saw with a bow. “Forgive the late hour, but it is urgent. My wife’s curse. It has been activated. Arion spoke through her mouth.”

Selric’s expression darkens. “What did the snake say?”

“That he will come and burn down any city that harbors her.”

The Vaer’Tharion sneers, his dark brown hair falling into his face. “Arion can not find us. He is a blind fool.”

I shake my head. “We should leave. Now, not in the morning. We do not wish to endanger you or your people.”

Selric steps forward, his eyes sharp and calculating. “I understand. But my son’s savior is not leaving without proper provisions.” He turns to a nearby attendant, his voice commanding. “Get the supplies ready. Dried meat and water. A map. ”

The attendant nods quickly and disappears.

Selric begins to speak so fast, I can’t pick up more than a few words. He talks to the guard, and if I didn’t know better, it would almost sound like he was arguing.

The guard leaves, too, leaving the three of us alone in the room.

Selric breathes through his nose.

“If you had not saved my son, I would not be so kind in this moment,” he informs.

I bow, and Arlet follows suit.

“We are grateful. We will not forget your generosity.”

The first attendant that he had sent to retrieve supplies enters from a side room. They are stored in a medium-sized, woven sack.

Selric gestures for the man to hand it to me.

I take it, bowing again.

Then the High Warden looks at the entrance as it pushes open, letting in cold air. A guard waits for us.

“All is ready,” Selric announces. “You will communicate with Mrath when you are finished, and we will make arrangements to meet again.”

“Gods, that was fast. Faster than I would’ve imagined. Our thanks again.”

Selric frowns. “Move quickly. And… thank you for the warning.”

I take Arlet’s hand, and begin to pull her out of the hall. We exit the mansion and step back into the cold night.

The pair of guards escort us to the edge of the city, where the high walls give way to the open landscape. They present us with the gear we’d used for riding lessons—dragonscale riding leathers and spectacles of some sort to protect our eyes.

The wind bites at our skin as we change. I put on my things first, and then help Arlet, shielding her from the eyes of the men. Something I fear I enjoy far too much.

Soon, a dragon appears in the sky. The emerald green beast is flying toward us, her wings slicing through the air with powerful strokes.

Familiar nerves build up inside of me.

The attendant who’d gone ahead meets us in the clearing, leading the emerald dragon down to place on a larger saddle.

“Come,” he barks out .

Just as we prepare to climb onto the emerald dragon, the ground beneath us rumbles. A deep, thunderous growl cuts through the air, and a golden light glows faintly from the shadows.

Then, the massive form emerges completely from the darkness.

I freeze as the dragon flies into view, her molten eyes gleaming with an intensity I recognize. Her golden scales shimmer, and her black horns twist elegantly from her head. Her claws, dark as obsidian, gleam in the dim light.

She moves with force, pushing the emerald dragon aside. The other dragon staggers, nearly tumbling off the cliff. Seraph growls, her wings flaring slightly in warning as she asserts her territory.

Arlet steps forward, and the dragon retracts her wings. My fearless Firelocks extends her hand, and the creature bows its head. When flesh makes contact with scale, the dragon huffs.

“Seraph,” I hear her say.

I turn to the guard. “Is this not the one who said she would no longer fly?”

The men watch.

“Yes.”

I press my lips together. Eyes burning.

Arlet had a way of bringing people back from the darkness.

The men start moving. One of them takes our packs, and then secures them tightly to one of Seraph’s legs.

“Is it all right to take her even though you had brought another?” I ask.

One nods. “If a dragon has a preference for a rider, it is against our customs to deny the beast.”

The dragon’s head is still hovering near Arlet. Watching. Studying.

The bond between them is palpable.

Once the saddle is placed correctly, Arlet climbs onto her back. I laugh, amused by her ease around monsters, then follow. I mount behind her, my heart racing as Seraph’s muscles coil beneath us, preparing for flight.

Here we go.

She walks closer and closer to the edge.

I try not to look down.

Arlet grips the reins firmly, her posture calm, as if she were born to do this. Without a word, Seraph pushes off the ground. Her wings beat powerfully, the air rushing around us as we rise higher into the sky. The city below shrinks into the distance.

The wind howls past, but Arlet doesn’t flinch. Her connection to Seraph is steady, unwavering, as we soar higher and higher.

We don’t look back.