Page 52 of Flameborne: Fury (Emberquell Academy #2)

~ brEN ~

Everything felt surreal, as if I wasn’t quite solid in the world, when a light wind whistled through the hole in the roof and Kgosi’s head swung with a low, rolling growl as shouts echoed outside.

‘Men are coming. Some brothers, some not.’

I didn’t know why Kgosi still spoke directly to me, but I heard the warning in his tone, and it made me shiver with fear.

Donavyn tensed, holding me even tighter. For a moment we clung. But then more shouts, and distant footsteps and Kgosi growled again.

Donavyn muttered a curse and pulled back far enough to meet my eyes, tipping up my chin and making me look at him.

His eyes were red.

My stomach flipped.

“Never again, Bren. I vow it,” he whispered. “These men—”

‘Now is not the time, Donavyn,’ Kgosi growled. I blinked, surprised that I still heard him.

Donavyn didn’t let go of me, but turned his head to look at his dragon over his shoulder.

“She can’t face them now. We can’t. We need time.”

‘Agreed. But you must dress. They’ve stayed back while I roared, but their dragons reassure them and they’re growing brave. I’ll make a show of taking you away. Together. You can blame me when your King shits himself about it.’

I felt like a newborn as Donavyn, shaking on his feet, urged me to stand with him, kept me tucked into his side as he hurried us both into his room, swept up a clean pair of leathers, touching my face before letting me go to yank them on, not even doing up the buttons on the jacket before he pulled me back out to the sitting room.

Akhane crooned, peering in the hole of the ceiling, her wings fluttering with agitation. But the moment Donavyn gathered me into his chest, Kgosi reached through and lifted us both out of the building.

My heart dropped to my toes as we ascended in a blink. But Kgosi roared again, placing us on the solid part of the roof, then holding himself low on the wall so we could leap to his back—where there were no straps.

Akhane chittered, her head weaving with anxiety and I tried to reach for her in my mind, but my head spun so that all I managed was to send her feelings.

Donavyn settled himself behind me, his knees locked hard around Kgosi’s wing ridges, then pulled me back against his chest and curled himself around me, caging me in his arms as he gripped Kgosi’s spines.

“Go, Keg!”

I shrieked when the world tilted, and we powered into the air amid a cloud of smoke and Primarch roars, and Akhane’s harmonizing screams. But my weight barely shifted with the force of Kgosi’s launch.

Donavyn’s arms bulged, his body a steel cage around me as Kgosi flapped hard, screaming his triumph when he made it into the sky.

Behind us, shouts of alarm and shock echoed from the ground, but I kept my head down and clung to Kgosi’s spines, leaning into Donavyn’s arms and his chest when we were thrown to and fro.

A strange, low resonance vibrated in Kgosi’s chest, so heavy I could feel it vibrating under my seat. Fear rang through me, but Donavyn dipped his head to speak in my ear under the rush of the wind and Kgosi’s flapping.

“He’s warning the other dragons not to follow. We don’t want anyone to know where we are.”

I nodded, relieved. But everything felt so surreal, I didn’t speak. Just clung. And waited.

‘All will be well, Little Flame,’ Akhane sighed in my head a few minutes later. ‘Rest. All will be well.’

My tears returned at her kindness, but I wiped them away and nodded to her too. I couldn’t find words. I was raw. As if all my skin was new. Tender to even the softest touch.

The higher we flew, the colder the air became, but I barely felt it.

When we began the descent my heart trilled with fear, but Donavyn tucked his chin into my neck and murmured reassurance.

“Hold onto me. If we fall, tuck your chin to your chest—grit your teeth—and hold on. I’ll roll us. Are you ready?”

I nodded quickly. I was vaguely aware of Kgosi and Donavyn discussing the logistics of the landing, but I couldn’t take in the words. My body felt heavy, while my head was light. Strange lights sparkled at the edges of my vision.

By the time the ground rushed up to meet us, I was so distant, I barely felt the curdle of fear.

Kgosi, using his incredible strength, attempted to slow his pace before he reached the ground, dropping his hind end and back flapping.

But when we landed, there was a bone-crunching thud, and Donavyn cursed as we bounced on Kgosi’s back.

With no straps to pull up on to keep us seated, the momentum threw us up and sideways.

Donavyn fought, snarling, his hands white with the effort to keep us on Kgosi until his dragon had slowed.

When Kgosi finally stopped, we hung over his shoulder, Donavyn’s arms bulging, and his breath hissing in sharp pants with the effort.

There was enough time to untangle our legs so we dropped feet first, but then Donavyn groaned and his hands slipped and we tumbled into the long grass of a meadow.

My head snapped back against his chest when we hit the ground—he enveloped me with his arms and turned us both, rolling awkwardly until we ended in the grass, Donavyn splayed out at my side, blinking, grabbing for me.

Then, suddenly, everything was quiet.

After the fear and destruction of Kgosi’s attack, then the roaring and shouts, then the wind of flying, my ears rang in the near-silence.

I pushed up on Donavyn’s chest and looked around. Kgosi and Akhane lumbered away from us as dawnlight rose, turning the sky pink and pale orange.

Then a shaking, calloused hand appeared on my face. I startled, snapping to look down at Donavyn as that sensation of tender skin and raw vulnerability rushed back in.

He stared at me, lines in his forehead, hand on my face and I saw it all there in his eyes.

Grief. Fear. Uncertainty. Pity. The questions.

God, it hit me like a punch in the stomach and the shame rushed back. I recoiled from his touch, turning away and scrambling to my feet, but I stumbled.

“No, Bren. Don’t run from me. I’m here.”

He caught me before I’d taken two steps, wrapped his arms around me from behind, dropped his chin to my shoulder, and held me as great, wracking sobs broke in my throat and my body shook.

I flinched at first, certain he’d never see me except like that. But as he continued to hold me, refused to let me run, cupped a gentle hand over my head and held me to him, his whispered words in my ear eventually broke through.

“…not your fault. You have no shame. You were hurt. You were manipulated and used. That’s not your fault, Bren.

That’s on them. Don’t ever feel ashamed for yourself.

Feel pity for them, for the darkness that must live in them to make them such monsters.

I’m so sorry, Bren. I’m so sorry. You never deserved that… ”

My tears returned, along with a coiled ball of pressure in my lungs. A thought. A word. The thing I’d wanted to say for months. The thing that was true, but no one would believe. It crawled up from my guts and into my throat, demanding to be heard, but I was terrified—

“I said no!” I gasped, the words vomiting from me. “I said no, I told them not to! I said no!”

“I know, my love. I know,” Donavyn whispered, curled over me and holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. But I needed it tighter.

“I said no,” I repeated lamely and went slack in his arms, sobbing.

“I know. I saw. They were wrong, Bren. They were wrong. Not you. Them.”

I turned in his arms and as he straightened to give me room, I made myself meet his pained gaze, searching his eyes for the lie. He stared back at me, hands in my hair.

“How can you—” I broke off, swallowing convulsively.

Donavyn’s expression crumpled, but he never broke eye-contact.

He stayed with me. And I had to see if he was true.

“I had already given myself to him,” I murmured through numb lips.

“I didn’t say no before. I thought he loved me. And he thought… he thought I said yes.”

It was the first hint of his anger. I tensed as Donavyn seemed to swell, the storm clouds in his eyes flashing lightning.

“No, Bren,” he said in a tight snarl. “He made you agree, so if he was ever found out he could claim the problem was you. He used you. He’s a monster.

And if anyone tells you otherwise, you send them to me. ”

“But, why would you… how could you still love me after—”

“Bren,” his tone was dark with warning and I went instantly still.

I didn’t even breathe. “You hear me clearly .” He clawed his fingers into my hair and held my head so I couldn’t turn away, his gaze fire and steel.

“I love you. You’re mine . God made you for me, and me for you.

This darkness is something that happened.

It will never touch the love I have for you.

And when you’re ready—only when you believe me, then you tell me who they were, and I will wipe those men off the face of this earth.

Because they no longer deserve to breathe.

But, make no mistake: you’ll never face this alone again.

And I’ll never share you. Never. I’d never want to. You’re mine. ”

Those words broke something in me. I choked and fell into him as pain poured from me like a waterfall. Every fear, every shame, every question and every frightening answer. All of it.

I fell into Donavyn’s chest and we sank to the grass again, together, as I purged grief and mortification, rage and fear.

And through it all, he whispered the words, over and over.

Mine.

Never alone.

Beautiful.

Not to blame.

Never to blame.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

I love you. I’ll always love you.