Page 14 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

~ brEN ~

I stood in the shadow of the stable below the windows on the external wall which were so high only Akhane could see out of them. I couldn’t even reach to pull myself out of them and escape.

Akhane paced the stable in front of me, ears flattened back against her spiny skull, her wings high and fluttering agitatedly as she hissed and snaked her neck whenever one of the men drew too near. Which happened a lot as the crowd outside grew, pressing those already in the doorway closer.

I could feel her panic rising and I didn’t know what to do.

There was a crowd of men outside the stable. My heart raced so fast I could barely breathe.

It had all started innocently enough—the stableboy that the Commander ordered to help us brought the cot for me.

His name was Benji. He was skinny, nervous, and reminded me of neighbor boys back on the farm: Cocky, adventurous, and often running full-tilt into every situation, heedless of the feelings of others.

Benji chattered as he set up the cot for me, telling me about the stable and the dragons—he announced proudly that he’d already been working here for two months, so he knew everything now.

But when he brought blankets he also left the stable door open behind him. And every time someone passed, they looked in, their gazes curious and sometimes cold.

I needed to tell Benji to close the door, but I was nailed to the floor.

My body trembled and my mind brimmed with flashbacks of falling from the cliffs, flashbacks of Ruin, all of it swirling under Akhane’s kind, but tight voice rising higher and higher .

‘Don’t worry, Bren. He’ll be done soon. He only wishes to help.’

I was still draped in the Commander’s jacket, which covered me better than any dress now that I’d done up the buttons. It hung off me like a sack, and the sleeves were far too long. But I was unwilling to roll them in case it creased the leather and made him angry when I gave it back.

I was tense, a little nervous, and made more anxious by Benji’s babble. But I wasn’t afraid of him.

But while he chattered and set up the little cot near the manger, another head had appeared around the edge of the door frame, peering inside.

And this one didn’t move on. An older boy.

Also a stablehand if the brown shirts and trousers almost identical to Benji’s were anything to go by.

This one was much bigger. Already taller and stronger than me, though younger.

I’d gone very still where I stood next to the hay and Akhane turned her head to look, flattening her ears at the boy, but shaking her great head like a tense dog.

‘Ignore them, Bren. They’re only curious.’ But she was tense too, weaving slightly on her feet.

Then another boy joined the second. They murmured to each other, their eyes bright and flickering between Akhane and me.

Then four more. Then a man in Furyknight flying leathers stopped to chastise the boys and get them moving, but when he saw me inside, he frowned. He asked what I was doing there, but the boys answered before I could. And his eyes returned to me. And his expression was disturbed?

He called to another man.

Soon the doorway was full of men and boys, all talking louder and louder as more voices rose to echo among the rafters. Some were angry, some thrilled, others clearly just happy to have a reason to stop working.

By this time, Akhane paced, her ears flitting back and forth—sometimes pinned, sometimes alert.

Her tail lashed like a cat’s. She was very careful not to swing it near me—the plates at the end of her tail could slice through human skin, though Ruin had told me they were mainly used for air direction during flight.

I knew these men were important and strong. I knew these boys were just curious. But I couldn’t seem to calm enough to stop the blood pounding in my ears. And Akhane panted with stress. Benji finally realized we were uncomfortable and yelled at them to leave, but of course, none of them listened.

Then there was shouting in the hallway—men arguing?

I half-crouched, looking around wildly for an exit, but there was none. My head spun and I wavered on my feet.

‘Breathe, Bren!’

The shouts outside grew louder. More voices joining the fray. The line of men at the stable door wavered and nudged forward, some of them stepping into the stable itself.

We would be overrun .

I stumbled backwards, my shoulders coming up against the external wall of the stable and knocking my breath out in a whoosh.

I looked up at those high windows with an ache—if only I could climb a flat wall.

Or Akhane could fly out of it—but they were far too narrow.

She wouldn’t even fit her head through the gap, and I’d have to slip through on my belly—

Suddenly, a roar jolted me to my bones—the sound so deep that it shook the rafters and sent dust drifting to the floor, and so loud that I clapped my hands over my ears.

But everything else stopped.

The men stopped shouting. The boys stopped shrieking. The crowd stopped surging.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then bodies shifted, pouring away from the door, space opening between them as they moved aside, eyes wide, heads low in submission.

And then that huge, black dragon with amber eyes appeared, so large I couldn’t see more than his shoulder when his neck extended all the way through the aisle and into the doorway.

Akhane made a strange, high call and fluttered her wings and the dragon snorted.

I cringed, certain he was angry—but his head whipped around and there was a murmur of scared gasps and voices as the men and boys fled.

Akhane moved then, putting herself between me and the black dragon, and I knew this wasn’t going to work. They would throw me away, just like Ruin had.

I wasn’t enough for this. They were right.

Too scared. Too weak. Too—

“Bren, I’m so sorry.”

The voice was deep, calm, and very tender.

I blinked and looked up to find the Commander standing in front of me, hands at his sides and his face pained.

Somehow, he’d grown bigger. Taller. I wasn’t sure—

Then he squatted in front of me. I realized I was on the floor, knees pulled up to my chest, hands tucked inside the jacket sleeves.

The Commander had dropped to my level, but he was still huge. And Akhane weaved her head behind him, hissing once before the black dragon crooned at her.

“I had no idea. We wouldn’t have left you… dear God, this is a mess.”

I felt bad for him. The stress was apparent on his face, lined and ruddy, like my father’s, though he was younger. A life lived in the sunshine and with the wind of flight whipping your skin, I supposed.

I wanted to tell him this wasn’t his fault. That I attracted this kind of unwanted attention, though I never invited it. But I couldn’t make my voice work.

He stood quickly, turning from me and storming out, past Akhane, to the door of the stable .

“Everyone back to work—and leave these poor females alone!” he bellowed.

I wasn’t sure how many of the men still remained outside the door, because they’d all pushed back into the aisle when the black dragon appeared.

But there were clearly some. There was a rumble of heavy footsteps, boot soles thudding, bare feet slapping, all of them running away.

Akhane turned from me, looking at the black dragon who’d planted himself in the doorway—which he filled without trying.

His head would have reached the rafters if he’d had it high, but he kept his neck curled and low, snorting smoke and steam from slitted nostrils, his eyes narrowed and ears pinned back.

I’d never seen a more terrifying sight than that massive, black creature threatening anyone who came close. But deep in my chest, I could feel Akhane—and her heart fluttered not with fear, but with gratitude whenever the black beast rumbled or hissed.

He was… protecting us?

‘Yes, Little Flame. He will protect us at all costs. Even his own life,’ she said with a warmth in her tone I hadn’t heard from her yet. ‘He is Primarch,’ she added with awe. ‘Every dragon is his—and the men who belong to them, as well.’

The urge was in me to insist that it was men and a woman.

But the thought was so ridiculous, I spluttered with hysterical laughter, which I swallowed the moment the Commander, who stood at his dragon’s leg in the doorway talking to Benji, snapped his head around to look at me like he worried my mind had cracked.

Maybe it had.

But I could breathe again now that all the men were gone.

The black dragon turned his head and something passed between him and the Commander. I felt it. It was the bond they shared. Just as Akhane spoke with me.

I put a hand to my chest, feeling that spot that was now full of her. It was strange. Ruin had told me how unsettling it was, and also so thrilling.

Now I knew what he’d meant.

But I didn’t have time to think further, because the Commander murmured something to Benji, who scampered away, then the dark man marched towards me, his face thunderous with anger.

I shrank back from him and he stopped midstep, his eyes widening and his hands coming up.

“No, no, Bren. I’m not angry at you—I’m angry at the men.

They never would have done this to… but, it doesn’t matter.

Please, just hear me: You aren’t in trouble.

I’m going to move you from this place though.

It’s too central. Do you think you can walk?

It’s not far, and you’ll have space and peace when we get there. ”

I blinked when he offered me a hand to help me to my feet. I stared at it for a second—a thick, calloused hand, heavy and veined, with wide, flat fingers and those large knuckles like my father’s and Ruin’s. It was a man’s hand. A strong hand.

But strong to protect? Or harm?

One would draw me like a moth to flame. The other inhabited my nightmares.

“Please, Bren. It will be better than this. I give you my word,” he said quietly, and those lines appeared in his forehead again.