Page 53 of Flameborne: Fury (Emberquell Academy #2)

~ DONAVYN ~

Nothing in the world had ever made me feel more helpless than watching my mate fall apart in my arms, knowing it was men who looked like me that had destroyed her.

My chest was a tumult of grief and rage, fear and love, vengeance and the desire to protect.

Watching her break was the most frightening thing I’d ever seen. And watching her set that pain aside to rise from it was the most admirable courage I’d ever witnessed.

I had no idea how long I held her—long enough that the dragons had disappeared into the nearby woods, and early morning turned the meadow gold. But as I despaired that she’d never take an easy breath again—and so neither would I—Bren slowly calmed, then opened like a flower to that rising sun.

From crumpled and shaking, crying with such force that she coughed, her sobs eased.

From curled into my chest like a fearful kitten, to holding herself, then slowly wiping her eyes.

From jagged choking, to hitching breaths, to deep, intentional sighs.

I watched the emotion pour from her like a bucket. And like the bucket, the source was not endless.

She gave it out. Gave it away. Gave it to me.

And I took it gladly. Begged her for it. Wanted it.

So many things now made sense—and so many new purposes rose in the ashes of that revelation. So many ways she should be protected, and so much admiration for what she’d endured.

As well as so much hate.

I did my best to shield her from it when the first wave of rage consumed me—as she cried and called herself the despicable names her father had called her, I prayed fervently that God would have mercy and give me just a few moments with this so-called father.

But even that rage was nothing compared to what I felt towards this man—this Furyknight— who’d used her with such careless cruelty.

Stolen not just her sanctity, but her safety.

How she’d walked into the Dragon Keep at all, let alone fought to become a Furyknight while surrounded by the reminders of that every day was beyond me.

I’d seen men overcome abuse and poverty, even some of the fear she’d faced.

But for her to walk into a world surrounded by men, the very men who’d done this?

I wanted to vomit. And I wanted to clamp my hands around more than one neck—first and foremost among them, the man who’d lied and told her he loved her.

The one she’d tried so hard not to reveal.

But there was one clue in that memory that burned in my gullet. One name she hadn’t veiled.

A dragon’s name for its rider.

One I knew.

But those thoughts were for later when I could examine them carefully.

For now, there was a whisper in my heart that said her fear wasn’t over.

That she’d struggle to believe my love because of this fucker.

The events of that night were a specter, and the things it had told her about herself lay on her skin like the puckered scars on mine—forgotten sometimes, but all it took was a mirror…

‘Kgosi?’

‘She is not yet calm. We won’t return until she’s ready. Whenever that might be. Your King can use trackers to find his enemy.’

I grimaced. It wasn’t as straightforward as that, but that wasn’t why I’d reached out to him.

‘I agree that we won’t move until she’s ready. But I need your insight. Did you see the faces? Did you catch any names? Identities? Are they a squad? Or—’

‘A mate protects their mate in whatever way is needed. She showed you the truth, Donavyn. That’s what was needed to renew the bond.’

‘But they’re why she’s so frightened all the time. Why she panics when the men get close. She thinks they’re coming for her!’

‘Donavyn, I, too, am angry, and I will not forget what we’ve seen.

If the Creator provides opportunity to use me as a tool against those men, I will walk into that purpose with fire.

But vengeance is not justice. Do not become the creature you now despise.

What you do in anger will also destroy you.

What you do in pursuit of justice will make your heart shine.

When the moment is right, when justice can prevail, you’ll know. Until then, focus on your mate.’

I shuddered with frustration, but when Kgosi said no, he meant no. And this wasn’t the time to challenge my dragon. My mate was beginning to breathe. Her body growing looser in my arms.

At some point I gathered her up and carried her into the trees.

Kgosi had chosen this spot because I had a small treehouse here, a place I’d built years earlier, well before becoming Commander and having my own quarters.

A spot I’d never told others about, and where I could find solitude when I was young and licking the wounds of this humbling career.

I doubted the little hut in the branches of the massive oak was still sound, and didn’t want to make her climb anyway. But it was in a pretty little clearing a hundred yards into the trees where a creek bubbled and we’d be hidden under the branches even if eyes passed overhead in flight.

I carried her there and settled us under the cover of a tree, near where the water gurgled and the grass grew under its shade.

When I sat in the bowl of the roots, I held her to my chest, intending to cradle her.

But the moment I sat down, she took a deep breath and straightened, not to pull out of my arms, but to see me.

I went still as she shifted until she straddled my thighs, her eyes red and shining.

I dried her cheeks with my thumbs, but the tracks and smears where her tears had fallen remained.

She barely breathed as she searched my eyes, then she lifted both hands to my face, stared deep into me and breathed out slowly.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her chin trembling, but not giving way.

I frowned. “Bren, you don’t have to thank me for being decent—”

“No, Donavyn. Listen to me: Thank you. I knew you were a good man. The dragons chastised me for not trusting you with this sooner. And they were right. Thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

I huffed and sat up straight, leaning right in, tempted to smile when she didn’t lean away, but held my gaze.

“ That is bullshit,” I muttered. “What you didn’t deserve was what that fucker did to you—what they all did to you.

That was sick, and wrong. And I don’t ever want to hear you speak about it as a stain on you, ever again.

You walk tall, Bren. You stand proud. You endured what they did to you.

They’re the ones who carry the burden of shame. ”

Tears glistened, but didn’t fall, and she smiled. Watery, faltering, but she smiled. “Thank you.”

I held her face, desperate to help her, but so, so afraid of stepping wrong and sending her back into despair.

She seemed reluctant to speak too, but not shying from me. Not averting her eyes. She stared as if to convince herself I was real.

“Tell me,” I breathed, fingers curling into her nape. “Tell me what I can do. Tell me what you need.”

She kind of laughed. It was too high, and only a short huff, but her smile was genuine.

“Don’t you get it, Donavyn? What I need is you.

” She tipped her forehead against mine and slid her fingers into my hair.

“It’s you, Donavyn. It’s us. This bond. It’s healing me.

You’re healing me. I can feel it. I don’t know how, but I want more. ”

Then she leaned in and kissed me.

I was humbled, and gratified, and little unnerved. I went still as a frightened horse for a moment, sucking in a startled breath. Then Bren went still, her lips still against mine. Her eyes opened, they were all I could see.

“Do you not want me anymore?” she breathed in a whisper so frail, it broke my heart all over again.

“Fuck, no, Bren!” I hissed, gripping her so she couldn’t pull away. “But after that, I don’t want you to feel like—”

“I need you, Donavyn. I need this bond. I need to remember that it’s not like that between us. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“It will never be like that,” I growled.

Her eyes crinkled in a small smile. “Please. Show me?”

I stared half a beat longer, cupping her face in my hand. “Are you certain, Bren? I don’t want you to regret—”

“I’m sure. I want you. I want you always .”

Her eyes shone, and the bond hummed. It was the truth.

I took her mouth softly at first. A featherlight kiss. A taste. Then I opened my eyes to check in. Her eyes had closed, but when I hesitated, she opened them again and found me watching her.

Her lips curled up in a smile and her fingers laced behind my neck.

“I love you, Bren,” I croaked.

“I know,” she whispered against my lips. “I love you, too.”

The dragons raised their groans when I kissed her again—a little stronger this time, though still softly.

Tentatively. Hands on her back, I delved the sweet velvet of her mouth, measuring her at every moment—did her breath ease or catch?

Did she tense or relax? Was she truly ready, or only trying to soothe me?

But then the bond began to glow…