Page 11

Chapter

Eleven

LORD

M y pack is lighter. Not by much—maybe a few pounds. What I can’t stop trying to work out as I follow just a few steps behind Alrick, watching the way the late morning sun makes his golden mane of hair glow like spun silk, is why.

“I didn’t give you a lighter pack just because you’re human.”

He looks at me over his shoulder, not breaking his steady stride. If he hadn’t already hinted at his Spartan, militaristic upbringing, his stamina and ability to simply set his course and focus on it without distractions would both be dead giveaways.

“Sorry?” Alrick says, his now heavier-than-yesterday pack bouncing slightly with every footfall.

“The packs.” I fall into step beside him on the open, hilly terrain. “I didn’t distribute the contents the way I did to insult you or because I thought you couldn’t handle it.”

He chuckles. “Did I say you did?”

“No, but you took on more weight when we repacked them this morning.”

“I did,” he agrees without offering an explanation.

I huff through my nose, and he laughs again. The sound doesn’t have any right to be as beautiful as it is. Like birds singing or the gentle call of a babbling river… My dragon purrs in agreement.

Gods of fire, listen to me. One taste of my Viking and I’m turning into some kind of terrible, sappy poet. He won’t be my Viking for long, and I need to remember that. Our time together is limited by how long it takes us to reach the dragon mage and ask her to break our bond. Will I have to confess everything to Alrick in order for the bond to be broken?

Just like every other time the subject has been raised inside my own mind, my dragon thrashes and snarls deep inside of me. Scales ripple over my skin this time too as he tries to push his way to the surface. Even my feet suddenly feel like they’re stuck in mud, like every step forward is harder and harder to take.

I stumble, and the fact that my body is betraying me is enough of a shock that I can’t even catch myself before my knees hit the ground. It takes Alrick another few feet to realize I’m not beside him anymore.

He glances over his shoulder again, then does a double take, concern twisting his face at the sight of me on my hands and knees, chest heaving for gods know what reason. I’m certainly not injured, so why can’t I get back up?

“Lord.” My name cracks on his lips, and he pivots mid-step to rush back towards me.

He drops to his knees as he reaches me and grazes the back of his hand gently over my cheek. The gesture is so unexpected that a hot shiver rushes through my body and my dragon purrs again, the sound audible as it rumbles in my throat. I lean into his touch, curling my fingers in the soft dirt and dragging in a few slower breaths.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” He inspects me not only with his eyes but with probing hands too, squeezing my shoulders like he’s checking for a dislocation. I nearly laugh. As if it’s that easy to hurt a dragon.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, brushing my hands off on my pants. Alrick grips my bicep to help steady me as I get to my feet. It’s entirely unnecessary, but that doesn’t stop the swell of affection in my chest.

No one has ever helped me to my feet before. Not that I trip often… or ever. And if my brothers or even my parents had ever tried, I likely would have snarled at them for their efforts. I might not have a temper like Nico’s, but I’ve always prided myself on being the one who helps rather than the one who needs help.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Alrick stoops to quickly brush the dirt and grass off of my pants for me before realizing what he’s doing and pulling his hand back with a rosy flare in his cheeks.

“It takes more than a misstep to fell a dragon,” I tease.

He smiles, but neither of us moves. Physically, there’s nothing wrong with me, so why can’t I get my legs to work properly? There are miles upon miles of rolling hills and small forests stretching out ahead of us and on either side, and the mountains we’re headed towards are still far in the distance. But the fact that they’re closer now than they were an hour ago, two hours ago, last night … makes a queasy feeling roil in my gut.

Alrick’s smile falters and he follows my gaze into the distance. The mountains are still too far away for him to see with his human vision, so he sweeps the more immediate distance, looking for whatever might be causing me to act so strangely. I wish I could explain it to him, but I’m afraid anything I say will only lead to more questions I’d rather not answer.

When he doesn’t see anything distressing, he looks back at me with a worried furrow between his eyebrows.

“Maybe we should take a break?” he says.

“We’ve only been traveling a few hours. We’ll never reach Xanthis’s cave if we stop to rest multiple times per day. I’m a dragon, I can run for thousands of miles before I’m tired.”

Alrick narrows his eyes a fraction and purses his lips like he’s thinking about something. After a minute, his expression turns resolute, and he brushes his hair off one shoulder.

“Well, I’m only human, and I could use at least a few minutes to catch my breath,” he says.

He’s not breathing heavily at all, and based on his effortlessly steady pace, I would bet my hoard that he’s well practiced at traveling much farther distances without a break. But I nod in agreement anyway, latching on to the excuse to delay things just a little while longer.

“There’s a small pond not too far off our path. Why don’t we take a short detour to refresh ourselves with a swim, and then we’ll cover another twenty miles or so before we rest for the night?” I suggest.

“That sounds perfect. We’ll call it lunch.”

“Lunch, yes.” A smile grows on my lips as my feet unroot themselves.

I can hear the faint rippling of water and smell the distinct, clean scent of the fresh spring through the patch of trees to our left. Alrick follows me without complaint, his side of the bond feeling surprisingly lighter too.

Maybe he really does need a rest as much as I seem to.

ALRICK

I watch Lord’s movements as he leads me through the trees. He seems to be fine now, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering about the suffocating feeling of dread that was pouring off of him only a few minutes ago.

Can dragons have anxiety disorders?

I frown at that unexpected thought.

“Hey, Lord…” I step over a fallen log, twigs and dead leaves crunching under my shoes with every step. “Is it possible for dragons to have mental health challenges?”

I can only imagine my dad or Digby’s reaction to a question like that. If you ask them, humans don’t even truly experience mental illness, it’s merely a lack of focus and purpose. Depressed? Stop being a baby and kill something, you’ll feel better in no time.

Lord is quiet for just a second before he barks out a laugh. It’s not a mocking laugh, more of a surprised sound.

“I honestly had never considered it before, but it would explain a lot about several dragons I know. And I did once meet a vampire with PTSD.” He shudders.

I hum thoughtfully. “Maybe there’s a dragon out there with OCD who keeps his hoard alphabetized.”

He laughs again, more raucously this time, throwing his head back and scattering birds from the trees with the echoing sound.

“I’ll ask Dempsey to look into it once we’re…” He clears his throat. “ I’m home.”

I want to ask who Dempsey is, but the reminder that he’ll be going home and I’ll be going to my own home when this is over hits me unexpectedly hard in the chest. Is the heavy pulse of despair Lord’s or mine? Why would either of us feel it at all? Just because this breathtaking dragon has been nothing but kind to me doesn’t mean I don’t have a life to get back to.

Maybe it’s not a life I chose, but it’s mine, all the same.

That only makes the heavy feeling in my chest even weightier, but I don’t have long to dwell on it before we step out of the trees and into a clearing. The sun casts golden beams of light through the thin branches onto the glistening, clear water of the small pond. There are a few flat rocks lining one side of the pond, directly in the path of the sunlight as well. Lord purrs loudly, then clears his throat and gives me a sheepish smile.

“There are only a few things in this world that dragons love more than sunning ourselves on warm rocks.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” I shrug out of my pack and slip my shoes off so I can dip my feet into the water.

Lord strips his shirt over his head, and I stare shamelessly at the golden skin and lean but powerful muscles suddenly on display. My earlier fantasy of exploring his body with my mouth reignites and my cock swells. His pants are next to go, pooling around his feet, followed by his briefs. My mouth goes dry, and I track the gentle sway of his half-hard cock between his thighs as he kicks himself free of his clothing.

His throaty chuckle draws my attention back up to his face. He arches an eyebrow at me but neither of us makes a move. Fuck, I want to. Can I? Should I?

After a few beats, he turns away and strides over towards the water’s edge.

“I’m going to warm it up for you,” he says over his shoulder.

“Wait—” I pause with my shirt halfway over my head. “—won’t that kill the fish or any other wildlife in there?”

“It’s only a small natural spring, there’s nothing living here that we need to worry about,” he assures me before bending down towards the water, dragging in a deep breath, and sending a roaring flame dancing over the surface of the pond.

The water boils instantly, then settles once his flame peters out. Lord gestures towards it.

“Give that a try.”

I shed the rest of my clothes and step over to dip a toe in the water. I’m bracing for it to be ice cold, but instead, it’s as warm as a pleasant bath.

“That’s amazing.” I laugh breathlessly.

Lord puffs up his chest and preens a little, then waves me towards the water. “Enjoy a swim. I’m going to sun myself for a little while and then we’ll eat something before we get moving again.”

I watch as he heads for the sunny rock, transfixed by the clench and release of his ass cheeks with each step and the faint ripple of orange scales that flicker across his back before fading back into human skin again. He stretches himself out with a loud, contented sigh, his eyes falling closed and a puff of smoke billowing through his nose. It’s hard to say how long I stand at the edge of the water, unable to tear my gaze off of the dragon as his breathing slows and his body relaxes. Once it’s clear he’s napping, I finally wade into the warm pond for a swim.

It’s unbelievably peaceful, floating on my back and watching the clouds drift by, with nothing but the steady sound of Lord’s breathing and chirping birds to interrupt my thoughts.

Is my family mourning my death as we speak? They must be after more than a week without word from me. Or maybe they’ve already grieved and moved on. Maybe they didn’t bother to mourn at all. Regardless, sooner rather than later, their unspent tears will be a faint memory as they refocus themselves on whatever dragon is next on their list.

What if it’s Lord’s family?

The thought makes my heart seize.

Choosing targets, planning attacks, knowing the location and danger rating of each dragon clan, these things are way above my pay grade, and until now, I was happy to simply go along for the ride. But what if the Drakes are ranked as one of the top threats? What if Digby and Viggo are strategizing right now about which of Lord’s brothers would be the easiest to pick off first?

I stop floating and dip under the water, letting the momentary deafening effect wash away my panicked thoughts, focusing on the burn in my lungs until I can’t hold my breath any longer and I’m forced to return to the surface. I crash back through and wipe the water away from my eyes. My hair hangs in sopping wet curtains around my face, so I use both hands to push it back. Lord is no longer napping. His eyes are open and trained on me, and I can feel a ripple of worry through our strange connection.

I swim towards him and when I reach the rocks, I fold my arms and rest my chin on them.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just… worrying about my brothers.” It’s a half-truth, obviously, but it’s the best I can do. I can’t imagine that whatever truce the two of us have stumbled into would survive the possibility that my brothers might be trying to kill his.

He nods in understanding, then rolls over onto his belly. His face is only a few inches from mine, his arms folded under his chin in a similar position to the one I’m in, except I’m still half-submerged in the water. With the sun shining on us, I can see flecks of gold twinkling in his eyes and a few tiny freckles peppered across the bridge of his nose.

“If your life wasn’t dedicated to being a dragon hunter, if you could be anything in the world, what would your dream be?”

I frown at the question, something tightening in my chest.

“I’ve never thought about it. I was born a dragon hunter. I’m positive I was holding a sword before I was even taught to hold my own bottle.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “Havarors don’t choose our own destiny, it chooses us.”

I’ve heard my dad say those exact words thousands of times. Maybe that’s why they sound so hollow on my lips.

Lord hums, casting his gaze down, away from mine. “Destiny is funny that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” His lips twitch with a sad smile. “We should eat,” he says after a quiet moment. “Daylight is wasting while I fritter time away sunbathing like an overgrown lizard.” He sits up and I greedily devour his bare body with my eyes again. “The sooner we get to Xanthis, the sooner you can be home to your brothers.”

“Right,” I murmur, the sadness in his smile spreading through our connection like an inky black poison.

I should be looking forward to getting things sorted out so I can go home where I belong. So why is home suddenly the last place in the world I want to be?