Page 9 of Bound by Fire and Scales (The Dragons of Earis #1)

I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to push away the lingering tension. Kislav’s interruption earlier had left everything unfinished between Zephyr and me. I felt my face heating up, just thinking about it. It had happened so quickly; it had gone from just a simple scenting to something else entirely. I could still feel the throbbing between my legs, eager for him to claim me. My heart still pounded from the intensity of it all, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had easily pinned me to the ground, the weight of his strong, broad body pressing down on me, and the feel of his sharp teeth grazing my skin.

Damn, I had never before reacted this way with an alpha.

I’d never acted like such a needy omega before. Worried that my suppressants were wearing off, I rummaged through my bag on the white wooden dresser, searching for another pill, just to be safe. I had already taken my dose for the day, but one more wouldn’t hurt. I had this under control—I’d been managing it for years. Suppressants were our only shield as omegas, after all.

Time slipped by quickly as I distracted myself by admiring the massive bathroom. It was all marble with gold accents, with a giant tub in the center, easily big enough for two. I pushed away the thought of what a certain dragon might do to me in there.

I had to get a grip.

I couldn’t afford to act like a lust-stricken omega with Zephyr.

I was sitting in the green velvet armchair reading a book that I had borrowed from Zephyr’s library when he finally returned after being gone for over an hour. His expression was as unreadable as always, but the exhaustion in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders revealed the weight he was carrying.

I stood up, crossing my arms as I watched him closely. The furrow in his brow made it clear that something was bothering him. “Was it bad?”

“Not yet, but they didn’t bring good news. There have been sightings of an unknown creature, and people are going missing near the Ice borders.”

“But that’s not what’s really bothering you, is it?” I pressed, stepping closer to him.

“No, it isn’t,” he admitted, his gaze locking with mine. “I want to send some of our men to help in the Ice Mountains, but I know the council won’t approve.”

“Why are you so worried about what they think?” I asked, feeling myself getting frustrated on his behalf.

“Because they’re the Elders, and their word carries a lot of weight here.”

His tone was heavy with restraint and I shook my head. “Look, I might not know much about dragon politics, but I thought being the leader meant you have the final say. Isn’t that what leadership is?”

“In theory, yes,” he answered slowly, considering my words. “But it’s not that simple, Sabrina. The council holds influence over the clan.”

“Just do it, Zephyr. If I had your power, if I was an alpha, no one would be able to stop me. Especially not those old geezers.” I threw my hands up, annoyed at the situation, and already losing my patience.

He chuckled softly, the tension breaking for a moment. “Alright, firecracker , and what would you do in my place? Ignore the most respected Elders? Risk your position as leader?”

I hesitated, realizing he had a point. Leading wasn’t as simple as I thought. He wasn’t reckless—he was considerate, thoughtful even. “No,” I said, my tone softer now. “You’re right. It’s complicated. I just… I don’t get why you let them have so much power over you. You’re sacrificing so much already for them—the whole fake mate thing, even having a child. You’re doing this for the council.”

His eyes darkened, unreadable, as he looked at me. He was carrying so much for the sake of his clan, and I found myself wanting to ease his burden, even if just a bit.

I sighed, stepping forward. “I’m not saying you should ignore them every time. But maybe, just once in a while, remind them who’s really in charge. Trust your gut.”

Zephyr stared at me, a faint trace of something softening the hardness in his gaze. He didn’t say a word, but I could see how tired he was.

“Come on,” I continued, my voice stronger than I intended as I extended my hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

His eyes finally met mine, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, standing up and pointing at the bed. “We’re supposed to be mates, right? If we’re going to convince everyone, we need to act like it. So get in the bed.”

Zephyr hesitated, his green eyes narrowing as if he was trying to figure me out. “I don’t sleep much. You don’t need to worry about me. ”

“That’s not the point,” I shot back, stepping closer. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, the memory of his touch still fresh in my mind. I grabbed his arm, feeling the heat radiating from his body. “This isn’t about sleep. It’s about us. If we don’t start acting like we’re in this together, we’re going to fail. I’m not going to fail this job, Zephyr.”

His gaze darkened, and for a moment, I thought he was going to argue. But then he sighed, the tension in his posture softening just a little. “I don’t know how to relax,” he admitted, his voice lower than usual. “I haven’t slept properly in years.”

I tugged him toward the bed, and to my surprise, he let me guide him. There was still a stiffness to his movements though, like he was holding something back. “Then don’t sleep,” I said, climbing onto the bed beside him. “Just lie here. We need to start trusting each other.”

Zephyr lowered himself onto the bed, lying on his back with his arms rigid at his sides. It was almost comical how out of place he looked, like a warrior thrown into a soft, peaceful world he didn’t know how to navigate. I settled myself beside him, my body just inches away, close enough to feel the faint heat radiating from him. Yet, even with that small gap, his scent seemed to wrap itself around me like a warm, comforting embrace. I breathed it in, letting it linger in my lungs, and closed my eyes, a soft, contented hum escaping my lips as the warmth of him seeped into my skin, grounding me, steadying me.

“I can’t sleep,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “My mind never stops. Even if I wanted to rest, I wouldn’t be able to.”

I rolled onto my side, propping my head up with one hand as I looked at him. “You’ve got to slow down. You’ve been running yourself ragged since we got here. If this is what your days are usually like, no wonder you’re always exhausted. You’re carrying too much, Zephyr.”

His eyes flicked to mine, the tension between us crackling in the air. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel the pull between us, the unresolved heat from earlier. I had seen the way he looked at me before Kislav had interrupted us—the hunger, the hesitation. It hadn’t gone away. It was still there, lingering just waiting to take over him all over again.

For a long time, we just stared at each other, neither of us willing to break the silence. The room felt too small, too hot, and yet I couldn’t move. His eyes held me in place, that same intense green gaze that had pinned me down earlier. My heart pounded in my chest, and I knew he could probably hear it. I could feel the warmth of his body so close to mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was fighting it, just like I was.

I cleared my throat, trying to break the thick tension hanging between us. It was almost too much to bear. “Zephyr, back in the village,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “The way they looked at you… it was almost like they feared you. Why?” Curiosity finally overcame my hesitation, pushing me to speak. “Why do they fear you?”

I couldn’t ignore the way the villagers—particularly the older ones—cast wary, almost fearful glances in Zephyr’s direction. Even in the council room, I’d noticed how some of the Elders visibly flinched when his voice rose or his expression hardened. It was as if his very presence held an edge they’d learned to fear, a shadow of something powerful and dangerous.

I felt him tense at my question, his whole body going rigid beside me, and something in me recoiled, a pang of anxiety from deep within, as if the very core of my being hated the thought of displeasing him. The omega in me whimpered in distress, and I bit back a curse. What was wrong with me? Had my suppressants stopped working? Why did my omega respond so intensely to him?

Silence stretched between us. His broad shoulders were tight with barely contained tension, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But when he finally spoke, his voice was rougher, almost raw, a low murmur that sent a shiver through me. “Do you really want to know?” he whispered, his gaze unreadable.

I managed a nod, swallowing the unexpected nervousness that swelled within me. “I guess… as your fake mate, I should kn ow a little about your story, right?”

“You’re right.” He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his nose bridge. “It’s your right to know who your mate is. How much do you know about the Dragon War?”

I knew so little of his world. Everyone across the whole of Earis had heard the stories of dragons waging brutal wars against each other, but those battles had never quite touched the distant corner I came from. I was from the southern reaches, a place far from any barrier close to the Dragon Lands.

“I only know that the mages were involved too.” Mages had their claws in every corner of Earis, wielding their power with little restraint, seizing what they wanted without care for those caught in their path. They burned entire guilds to the ground if things didn’t go their way, laid claim to towns as if they were nothing more than pawns in a game, meddling wherever their influence could spread.

I’d made it a point to keep my distance from them after one mission had gone horribly wrong. A dark mage had appeared out of nowhere, his gaze empty as he slaughtered our employer over a mere dispute about payment. That cold-blooded violence, that casual disregard for life... It was a reminder that some forces were best left undisturbed.

“Then you’d know that while the war may have started with another dragon clan—the Thunderwing clan. But all of it was backed up by the mages,” he said, his words deliberate, as though each one carried a weight he had to bear. “We were barely holding on. Dragons were falling everyday; entire clans vanished. When my parents were killed, I had to step up as the clan’s leader—long before I was ready.”

“How old were you?” I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.

“I was fourteen.” I stared at him, trying to reconcile the man beside me with the image of a boy burdened by the weight of his entire clan. He had been barely more than a child, suddenly a leader, a warrior, a defender in a war that had taken his parents.

His gaze turned inward, haunted. “When I was younger, my control over my dragon was... fragile. My dragon was stronger than most, and keeping it at bay was a constant struggle. Back then—” He paused, his jaw tightening with an old pain. “Back then, I often lost control. My dragon was... bloodthirsty.”

“During one of the darkest points in the war, a mage defected and joined us against the Thunderwing clan. He told my council that I—still young, still growing into my dragon—might become an unstoppable weapon if they fused dark magic into my blood.” He fell silent, memories darkening his gaze. “The mage claimed it would turn me into the perfect machine to win the war.”

“What?” My voice cracked, horrified. The idea of using dark magic on a living being... It sounded like madness. I had never heard of such a thing, of forcing magic, especially dark magic, into another’s body. “Is something like that even possible?”

Zephyr looked down at me, his eyes shadowed by a sorrowful smile that made my heart ache. “It was. And I let them do it, because it was the only choice for my clan. I wanted to protect them, to bring an end to the suffering. But no one knew how dark magic would react within a dragon.” His voice turned harder as if refusing to allow pity. “I was their last bet. In the beginning, it seemed successful, I grew stronger, my abilities sharper. But the dark magic came with a price.”

I could barely breathe as he continued, his gaze fixed and unflinching. “It changed me. The magic fed an insatiable hunger, a rage I couldn’t control. I did things…things I’ll never be able to forget.” His voice trembled, just slightly, but his eyes held mine. “I killed. Not just in battle, not just to defend my clan. I killed innocents, dragons who didn’t deserve it. The rage took over, devouring everything, and though the magic ruled me, I remember every single thing I did.”

The air between us grew icy, thick with the weight of his confession. His face was ashen, the haunted look in his eyes revealing the depth of scars I could barely fathom.

“And they still fear you, even now?” I asked quietly, my chest tightening. “You seem so... in control now.”

Zephyr’s jaw tightened, his nod slow and filled with pain. “ They remember the monster I became when I lost control, and they’re afraid it could happen again. You’re here now, Sabrina, but you don’t see the struggle it’s been. Years of fighting to lock away the darkness, to keep it buried. I’ve spent all this time trying to show them I can be a leader worthy of their loyalty, trying to rebuild the clan they thought was lost.”

A tear slipped onto my hand, and I lifted it to my cheek, startled to realize I was crying. My heart twisted, breaking for the boy he had been, the sacrifices he had made, and the weight he still carried. All he had done to save his people, all the battles he’d fought alone—and yet they still saw him as something to fear. I wanted to pull him close, to shelter him from the world that had turned its back on him while taking everything he had to give.

“Is that why you can’t sleep?” I asked softly, sensing a deeper truth in his silence. “Because of the nightmares?”

He didn’t answer, but the shadows in his gaze told me all I needed to know. Without another thought, I shifted closer to him on the bed, wrapping myself around him, letting my instincts guide me. I held him, my arms cradling his head under my chin, feeling the strength and the vulnerability he carried in every tense line of his body. And he didn’t pull away. He let me hold him, allowed me to share in a piece of his burden.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” I murmured against his hair, his smoky, musky scent filling my senses and soothing the ache in my heart. “Whatever you did in the past... it doesn’t change who you are now, Zephyr. That’s all that matters to me.”

???

I didn’t know when I had finally closed my eyes, exhaustion dragging me down, but when I opened them again, the first light of morning was creeping through the curtains. I blinked groggily, my mind hazy, and then I noticed the warmth beside me.

Zephyr was still there, lying on his back, one arm resting close to mine, his face relaxed in a way I had never seen before. The harsh lines of tension were gone, replaced by something softer, more peaceful. His lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. He was asleep.

I stared at him, lost for a moment in how different he looked. Without the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, without the constant stress of leading the clan, he almost looked peaceful. He was beautiful. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sharp angle of his jaw, the soft way his hair fell across his forehead, and the way his chest moved in a calm rhythm.

I couldn’t help myself. I reached out, brushing my fingers lightly against his cheek. He didn’t stir, just kept breathing deeply, completely unaware of how much he needed this rest. Since we’d arrived, it had been one thing after another—stress, pressure, demands. All of it had been put on his shoulders. For the first time, I realized how much he was carrying, how much he always had to carry. And for some reason, I wanted to make sure he didn’t have to do it alone anymore. At least, not while I was here.

I let my hand linger on Zephyr’s cheek for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. His breathing remained steady, deep in sleep, unaware of the storm raging inside of me. What had changed since the first time we met? How had this Alpha gotten me to care about his well-being? What was happening between us?

My fingers drifted away from his face, and I pulled my hand back, lying down again beside him. I wasn’t sure what to make of the way I felt, but lying here beside him, it was hard to think clearly. The quiet of the room, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the fact that he had let his guard down around me, it all made me feel... something. More than I should.

I tried to settle back into the pillows, but my mind kept wandering. The tension from earlier still hummed between us, unspoken but thick in the air. It had been building ever since we got here, and now it was all but suffocating. Zephyr had held back. I could feel it in every touch, every look. But why? Was it his sense of duty? Or was he just as confused by this as I was?

I sighed softly, trying to focus. There wasn’t any point in overthinking it. Whatever was going on between us, we would figure it out later. There were bigger things to worry about. Like the council. And the fact that I still didn’t fully understand what I’d gotten myself into.

Although, as I stared up at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but steal another glance at him. He looked so peaceful now, completely different from the hard, closed-off man he was during the day. It was strange seeing him like this—vulnerable, almost. It made me wonder how long it had been since he’d truly rested, since he’d let someone see this side of him.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to try and get some sleep. But sleep didn’t come. Not when every breath I took filled my senses with him—his scent, his warmth, his presence so close beside me. And beneath all that, the memory of his touch, of the way he’d pinned me down, his dragon surging forward before Kislav’s interruption had shattered the moment.

Morning came too soon, and when I opened my eyes again, the light filtering through the curtains was soft and golden. I blinked, momentarily disoriented, until I felt the slight weight of Zephyr’s arm draped across my waist. I froze, unsure of how we’d ended up like this. His face was still relaxed, his breathing slow and steady. He had shifted in his sleep, pulling me closer to him without even realizing it.

For a moment, I didn’t move. I just lay there, listening to the quiet, the feeling of his body against mine making my heart race. I should have pushed him away. But I didn’t. Instead, I let myself savor the moment, just for a second. The feeling of safety, the warmth of his arms, the silence that filled the room—it was a brief escape from the weight of everything we were facing. And for the first time, I wondered what it would be like if this wasn’t just pretend.

But I couldn’t let myself think like that. Not when I knew how dangerous it was to let emotions get involved.

Carefully, I shifted out from under his arm, sliding out of bed without waking him. I stood for a moment, watching him sleep, feeling a strange pang in my chest. He looked so peaceful, and for a moment, I felt a fierce protectiveness rise up inside me. Zephyr carried so much on his shoulders. The pressure from the council, the expectations placed on him as the leader of the clan, the stress of rebuilding the clan after the war. He never let himself rest, never let anyone in. And somehow, in this small moment, I realized how much he needed someone to be there for him, to help carry the load.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to do with that realization. This was supposed to be a mission, a job. I was supposed to play the part of his mate and help him rebuild his clan, nothing more. But I was starting to see that there was so much more to Zephyr than the hardened Alpha I’d expected. And it was becoming harder and harder to separate what was real from what was pretend.

Before I could dwell on it any longer, I heard a soft knock at the door. My heart raced, and I glanced over at Zephyr, but he didn’t stir. Carefully, I tiptoed to the door and opened it just a crack.

Kislav stood on the other side. “Good morning,” he said, his voice low. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but we have a situation with the council. They’re requesting an immediate meeting.”

I nodded, glancing back at Zephyr. He was still fast asleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. Not yet. He needed the rest, and if the council could wait a little longer, I’d make sure he got it.

“He'll be there soon,” I whispered to Kislav. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. He knew better than to push when it came to matters involving Zephyr.

As I closed the door softly behind me, I made a silent vow. Whatever happened next, I wasn’t going to let him shoulder all of this alone.

I stood by the door for a moment after Kislav left, my hand resting on the handle as I listened to the quiet sounds of Zephyr’s steady breathing. The council was asking for a meeting—again—and I knew it wouldn’t be anything easy or pleasant. But as I looked back at him, still asleep, I knew he needed this rest more than anything.

I walked quietly over to the bed, careful not to disturb him. For a moment, I just stood there, watching him. The hard lines of his face were softened in sleep, his lips slightly parted, and his red hair tousled against the pillow. He looked so different like this—almost peaceful, almost human.

My chest tightened at the thought. I hadn’t signed up for this—to care about him. But as much as I wanted to keep my walls up, something about him made that impossible. I reached out, brushing a lock of his messy red hair away from his forehead. His skin was warm under my touch, and for a moment, I allowed myself to linger, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. He didn’t stir, still lost in whatever rare dreamless state he’d managed to find.

It wasn’t fair, I thought. He shouldn’t have to carry all of this on his own. And the worst part was, I knew he wouldn’t complain. He’d keep pushing forward, day after day, without ever letting anyone see how much it was killing him inside. But I recognized it. I had seen a story like this play out before, and I hated how it ended. My mother, a poor and powerless omega, had fought every day of her life to please others, right up until the end.

I could feel the same tension in Zephyr—the way his body stiffened during our performance for the council, the way he was always on edge, even around me. And it made me furious—furious at a world that had placed so much weight on his shoulders, and furious at myself for letting myself care. I sighed, pulling my hand back. As much as I wanted to let him sleep longer, the council wouldn’t wait forever. I had to wake him.

“Zephyr,” I whispered, leaning over him slightly. “Zephyr,” I repeated, a little louder this time, placing my hand on his shoulder.

He stirred then, his brow furrowing as his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he looked confused, his gaze unfocused as he blinked up at me.

“Morning,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice gentle.

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as he slowly sat up. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours,” I said, stepping back to give him space. “The council is asking for another meeting.”

His expression darkened immediately, the tension returning to his body as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Of course they are,” he muttered.

“They can wait a little longer,” I said, surprising myself. I wasn’t usually one to push back, but something about the way he carried himself made me want to stand up for him, even if just a little.

He glanced at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why?”

“Because you need rest,” I said, crossing my arms. “You haven’t had a proper break since we got here, and if you keep pushing yourself, you’re going to collapse. Let Kislav stall them. Just for a little while.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he would argue. But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t have the luxury of resting, Sabrina.”

“You do now,” I said firmly, moving to stand in front of him. “You need to stop acting like you’re made of stone. You’re not invincible, Zephyr. And the council can wait a few more minutes.”

He looked at me then, really looked at me, his eyes searching mine as if trying to figure out what had changed. I wasn’t sure what he saw, but he didn’t argue this time. Instead, he just sighed again, leaning back on his hands as if finally admitting defeat.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Good. Now lie back down.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

“You heard me. Lie down. You don’t have to sleep, but at least rest for a few minutes. I’ll handle the council if they come knocking.”

Zephyr stared at me for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, slowly, he lay back down on the bed, folding his arms behind his head. He still looked tense, but at least he was taking the break I’d asked him to.

“Happy?” he asked, his tone somewhere between sarcasm and curiosity.

I ignored the question and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed. “You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up,” I said quietly. “You can’t protect your clan if you’re running on fumes.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he just stared up at the ceiling, the silence between us thick. The tension from earlier had come back, but now it felt different—more subdued, more... intimate.

“You’re not wrong,” he finally said, his voice soft.

I glanced at him, surprised by the admission. But before I could say anything else, his eyes flicked over to me, locking onto mine, with a glint of wonder in his green eyes. Nobody had ever looked at me like that. Like I was something worthy to look at. And just like that, the air between us shifted again.

Neither of us said a word, but we didn’t need to. The silence was enough, the way our gazes held, the unspoken understanding that something was happening here, something neither of us could ignore. I felt my heart race as a faint, eager look flashed in his eyes.

But just as quickly as it came, he broke the moment, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. “You’re stubborn,” he muttered, but there was no bite to the words.

I smiled faintly, lying down beside him. “So are you.”

For a while, we just lay there in silence, the tension between us settling into something softer, something almost... comfortable.