Page 21 of Heart of Chaos (Chaosborn #1)

Chapter twenty-one

Eisa

The next several days were spent getting to know my new body and my bonded dragon.

I’d graduated from wearing nothing to wearing a loose linen shirt that belonged to Arik, and I refused to accept that part of the reason I enjoyed it was the strong scent of him on the fabric.

I also wore Sigrid’s necklace beneath the shirt. When I had finally come to my senses enough to worry I’d lost it, I found it neatly tucked away in the pocket of my tunic. Thank the Hearthmother it hadn’t been lost in the transition.

Arik was true to his word, sleeping like a stone statue at least six inches away from me every night. Somehow though, Idunn had her own ideas, and I woke more than once to find a wayward arm or leg draped over him. I always had to scramble back to my own side before he woke so he wouldn’t realize, cursing her soundly.

She pretended not to hear.

I was still weak from what Arik had called the transition, and still wholly embarrassed at Idunn’s heat. But Arik mentioned neither as he continued to care for me, bringing me food and water and clean furs and ice when I began to overheat. He was in and out of the room, his duties not permitting him to stay indefinitely, but he was never gone for long.

On the second day after my heat, while I was resting against the pillows in his bed and attempting to reason with Idunn about why I couldn’t go and hunt her an entire goat, he brought Branka with him. I’d asked after her more than once, worried that Einar might have fulfilled his promise to hurt her, but Arik had assured me she was transitioning and Jorgen was protecting her like a mother hen.

“Gods, Eisa!” she cried, throwing herself atop me and crushing me in a hug. “I was so scared. How are you feeling?”

She released her grip on me long enough to hold me at arm’s length. She frowned as she studied me, but I was equally surprised by what I saw in her.

Her skin glowed with a golden light that hadn’t been there before, her eyes a brighter shade of honey-amber. She had dressed as a drage might, her hair braided and woven with iron, and her leathers trimmed with fur and dragon scales.

Because she was a drage, I reminded myself.

If nothing else, the tapered ears should have given it away. She tucked her hair back self-consciously behind her ear as she noticed my gaze.

“It’s bizarre, isn’t it? Did your skin feel all tight and hot as well? I swear, it flaked absolutely everywhere as it was shedding. Thank the gods they didn’t tell us about that before, or I might have lost my nerve.”

I smiled weakly, falling back against the pillows and glancing around her shoulder. Arik and Jorgen had pulled a pair of utilitarian stone chairs toward the metal brazier that sat in the middle of the room and were speaking quietly.

Arik met my gaze, and I quickly turned back to Branka. “My skin still feels strange. And I’m exhausted. Did the others make it? Ivar and Thyra and Brita?”

“All fine,” Branka confirmed. “They were all taken by separate reirholds. Jorgen thinks Brita’s reirleder is fine, but he hates Ivar’s. Poor boy. And Thyra ended up mated.”

“Truly?” I asked, trying to picture the woman, who carried twice as much weight as I do in muscle alone, mated to a man like Arik or Jorgen. “To who?”

“Some giant, bearded drage man,” Branka said dismissively.

“That’s literally all of them.” I sighed. “Tell me about your dragon, Branka.”

“Bryndis,” she pronounced proudly, her smile growing wider. “It’s like nothing I could have imagined. I feel stronger and faster, and she knows me like she’s always been a part of me.”

“Bryndis,” I repeated, testing the name.

Yes?

I blinked in surprise. The voice that spoke to me wasn’t Idunn’s, but deep and melodious. Idunn curled her tail protectively around my mind.

“Are you alright?” Branka asked, frowning down at me.

“Yes,” I lied, feeling like my ability to talk to the other dragons wasn’t something I should share just yet. Not until I figured out how I was doing it. “Sorry, just tired.”

“You poor thing,” Branka said, cupping my cheek with her hand. “You do look pale still. Perhaps because your dragon is so much stronger.”

“Arik said it’s because I was sick before the Rifting,” I sighed, shrugging off her concern. I wasn’t sure if I was still sick—my unfortunate brush with Idunn’s heat had resulted in bruises across my knees, but I had landed fairly hard on the stone floor. Still, I hadn’t felt Chaos hammering at me since the Rifting, so that was something. “Have you shifted yet?”

“Just once.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s the strangest sensation. I didn’t feel confident enough to fly, not with the sheer size of her. It’s strange being the one locked in your dragon’s mind.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Not exactly.” She frowned thoughtfully at the blankets. “More like a burning sensation. Bryndis says I’ll get used to it. Anyway,” Branka added, her eyes wide and hopeful, “will you tell me about your dragon?”

I smiled. “Idunn?”

“Oh, what a lovely name!” She clapped her hands together. “It suits you. Idunn and Eisa.”

“Bryndis and Branka.” I laughed, trying to make sure I didn’t actually summon the dragon in question to my mind. “How do you get along with her?”

Branka raised an eyebrow. “Fine, of course. It was like we were made for each other. Why, is it different for you?”

I felt Idunn raise her head in interest at the question.

“No,” I replied, stroking a mental hand down her neck to soothe her. “I suppose I just don’t really know her yet.” I was mostly unconscious for five days, and Arik had been coddling me too much to really speak to her.

You can speak to me whenever you like, drageling, Idunn purred in my head. She flopped over playfully, presenting her scaly belly for mental scratches. I am, as you say, an open book.

I obliged, scratching her belly as best as I could while also carrying on a conversation. It was strange to have something so clearly independent of you living in your own head, and I kept forgetting where I ended and she began.

Good, she purred in contentment. You are mine, pretty drageling. I will burn our enemies and wear their bones.

You’re a dark little thing, aren’t you? I laughed.

I am not little.

“Are you speaking to her now?” Branka interrupted, nudging my shoulder. “Your eyes went all distant.”

“Yes. I suppose it will take some practice to master multitasking.”

Branka nodded thoughtfully. “Jorgen says he keeps a door in his mind for Sigurd. Sometimes, when he wants privacy, he closes it, and Sigurd respects it. Other times he comes crashing through unannounced.”

“And…how is it with Jorgen?” I asked, feeling my face flush at the suggestive question. “Have you—you know.”

Branka ducked her head and bit her lip. “No…not yet.”

I didn’t need her to explain. Branka had told me little of her life at the brothel, but so far I’d only gleaned that there were bright moments and darker ones.

“I want to,” she rushed to add, glancing over at her new mate with a shy smile. The pure joy that radiated in his expression as he returned the smile was impossible to ignore. “I liked him before the Rifting, and when I felt Bryndis out there, I felt him and Sigurd too. I just knew. But I…well…” Her cheeks colored prettily as she glanced again at Jorgen, who was looking at her with a fire in his eyes that left me in no doubt of his feelings. “He’s being very patient.”

“Have you done…anything?” I asked, feeling my face begin to flame with more than just Idunn’s heat. She perked up at the topic of conversation, and I could feel Arik’s eyes as they settled on me from where he and Jorgen were talking quietly. I was certain she had told Baldur what we were speaking of.

Privacy would be appreciated , I said, scowling over at him.

As you command. He nodded toward the door, bidding Jorgen to follow him. “We’ll be right outside,” he announced. Don’t you dare get out of that bed.

I tried to ignore the heat that curled in my belly as his deep voice rumbled through my head, and turned my focus back to Branka as the two men left.

“We’ve kissed,” she said, biting her lip again. “Bryndis got a little excited when I came through the transition and sort of jumped him.”

“I know the feeling,” I muttered. Idunn rolled her eyes as she settled back in for what she clearly deemed a boring conversation. “And he didn’t try to…”

“Gods, no,” Branka said, sounding slightly irritated. “I wanted to, but he insists that he wants me to want him first. Bryndis and Sigurd are annoyed about it, but Jorgen is adamant.”

“I know that feeling too. Arik is the same.”

Branka smiled and took my hand. “We are lucky, Eisa. Many men would not wait.”

I felt certain that Einar would have been one of them, and I felt a warm glow of appreciation for Jorgen. He knew what Branka had been through.

Arik waits for you as well, Idunn reminded me.

I swatted the thought away. That’s different.

Is it? she purred, sounding genuinely curious. It sounds like a man who does not wish to take advantage of a woman who has not experienced real passion or friendship with a man before.

And what do you know of such things? I asked, giving her a mental scratch.

I know Baldur. And I know what you fear. Ask her.

“What’s wrong?” Branka asked, tapping my hand. “Idunn?”

“I…Is it…does it…” I clenched my jaw. Gods, how I hated being the blushing virgin. I hated even more that Idunn knew I was anxious about it. If it hadn’t been for Henrik and his clientele, I’d have taken care of this when I was younger with some nice farm boy. As it was, I was completely ignorant of everything but the mechanics and the names for the anatomy, which Sigrid had explained to me as if it was all very clinical and uninteresting. “Does it hurt?”

I heard Jorgen cough in surprise on the other side of the door and cursed his drage hearing.

“It can,” Branka confessed, lowering her voice. “Especially the first time. But I’m certain that’s because it wasn’t with someone I actually wanted.” She glanced over at Jorgen again, her face softening. “Perhaps it’s different if you like the man. If he takes the time to work you up to it.”

“Great,” I scoffed.

Branka smiled wryly. “One of these days you’ll have to admit to yourself that you don’t hate him. I’ve seen how you look at him. And him at you. And,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “there was that kiss.”

I smacked her hand in warning and she giggled. “Anyway, I hear when the dragons are involved, it’s…augmented, so to say.”

I frowned at this pathetic excuse of an explanation. Perhaps I could find a book in the archives that would do better than Sigrid’s clinical description and Branka’s vague assurances.

“What about pregnancy?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t seen very many children around the fortress. Either the Chaosborn sent their children away, or they used some kind of contraceptive.

“Oh.” Her face fell slightly. “Some of the Chaosborn have children—with special permission. But Jorgen said the drage can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“Shifting would make you lose the baby,” she replied gently. “The dragons don’t have the anatomy for it, and the drage are too few in number for anyone to stop shifting for long enough to bring a babe to term.”

My heart lurched unexpectedly into my stomach. Truthfully, I’d never really thought about having children until this very moment. I had never thought it would even be an option for me, and who would want to bring a child into a world where they might be enslaved anyway?

But the idea that I couldn’t have children hit me with more force than I thought it would.

It is not that you cannot, Idunn corrected, trying to sound as sympathetic as any being made of creation magic could. But it is unlikely while the odemarksdyr still run free.

It’s fine, I said. It’s not like I’d want children with Arik anyway.

Branka placed her hand over mine, her voice gentling. “I’m so sorry Eisa. I didn’t know you wanted children.”

“I don’t.” I shook my head, trying to look relieved. “At least we don’t have to worry about baby dragons getting in our way.”

She frowned, as if not quite believing my nonchalance, so I changed the subject.

“So when will you…you know?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Branka said, sounding completely unconcerned. “I suppose it will depend on Bryndis and Sigurd, but I’m in no rush. I’ve never been romanced before, and I quite like that Jorgen seems eager to do so.”

“Romanced?” I laughed.

Branka blushed. “Telling me stories and getting to know me. Courting me. Why, has Arik not been kind to you?” she asked, suddenly worried. “Revna told us that he’s barely left your side, but if he’s been cruel—“

“No!” I assured her, seeing her eyes slit momentarily as Bryndis became agitated. “No, he’s been very patient. I just…I don’t know. I have no idea what it is to be romanced. And it feels odd to have accepted him when I vowed not to.”

“Why did you?” she asked, her head cocking to the side.

Einar’s threats against my friend swam back into my mind, and Idunn growled protectively. We will burn him. I will tear his flesh from his bones.

Yes, dear, but can it wait? I’m rather tired.

She huffed. Fine. But I will tear his dragon limb from limb. Or throw him into the Rift. He threatened our friend.

Oh, so she’s our friend now?

Your friends are mine, Idunn said, as if this was obvious. As are your enemies.

“Eisa?” Branka sounded alarmed. “Your eyes have gone all dragony. Is Idunn alright?”

I blinked, feeling my pupils return to their normal human shape. Turns out my dragon was not immune to fits of sisterly fury either. “Sorry. It’s complicated. I suppose it felt right, in the moment. And I’m not sure ‘dragony’ is a word.”

She beamed. “It is now. Anyway, that’s how I felt about Bryndis. I just knew.”

Had I known when I’d felt Idunn that she was my dragon?

Of course you did, she sniffed. You felt my soul as I felt yours. I waited for you, and then you arrived. It was as the Norns foretold. She butted her snout against my mind affectionately, and I couldn’t help but stroke her in return. You are mine.

“You look exhausted,” Branka said, patting my cheek as she rose. “Do you need anything before we go?”

The door opened, and I saw Jorgen squeeze Arik’s shoulder as they reentered the room. I could have sworn I heard him say something like, “She’ll come around.”

“I’m fine,” I said, smiling tightly and taking Branka’s hand. “I’ll see you soon?”

“As soon as you’re well enough to train,” she said brightly. “It’s much less miserable with a dragon’s strength supporting you.”

“You’re not supposed to be letting Bryndis help you,” Jorgen teased, opening his arm to my friend in invitation. Her smile was radiant as she let him tuck her in close to his side, and for a minute they just stood there gazing at each other, his eyes wide and adoring on my friend’s face.

Arik cleared his throat loudly.

“Right,” Jorgen said, the apples of his cheeks pink as he broke away. “Well, we’d best be off. We’ve been assigned a larger cavern for Bryndis, since she’s too big for the smokestack, and we have to move everything over today.”

“I’ll see you soon, Eisa!” Branka waved as they departed, and I saw him lift her hand to his lips as the door closed behind them.

I felt myself blush as Arik and I watched each other in awkward silence across the glowing brazier. Branka deserved happiness and romance. I just wasn’t sure either were in the cards for me.

“Thank you,” I said, breaking my gaze to study the furs beneath my fingers. Every sensation was doubled in this new body, and I could feel each individual strand of hair perfectly as I ran my hand across the fur. “For bringing my friend to visit.”

“She insisted,” Arik said dryly. “But you’re welcome.”

He moved to the stone chair he’d abandoned earlier and sat before the fire, studying me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Whatever was giving you so much anxiety while you spoke to Branka,” he said, shrugging. “Baldur wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Traitor, I hissed at Idunn.

She pretended not to hear me, feigning sleep in my head.

“Eisa.” My eyes snapped back to Arik’s. “Why did you change your mind?”

I frowned. “About what?”

“About this.” Arik gestured between us. “About bonding Idunn.”

I swallowed. “You told me about closing the Rift.”

He shook his head, leaning forward in his seat. “That wasn’t it. I knew you were still undecided, even after I showed you the scar in the stone.”

“Perhaps it was the kiss,” I suggested flippantly, fiddling with the edge of the furs.

Arik laughed. “Don’t flatter me, Kj?re.” I bristled at the still unexplained nickname, but Arik continued before I could ask about it. “That wasn’t a proper kiss.”

“It wasn’t?” I raised a brow. It had certainly felt like a proper kiss to me. Granted, I had nothing to compare it to. But still.

Arik shook his head, his ashen hair falling about his face. “When I kiss you properly, Kj?re, you’ll know.”

Idunn purred in my chest.

Stop that .

But he says such pretty things, she whined, clearly done feigning sleep. And he looks pretty. I bet he would taste—

“Why did you kiss me?” I blurted, trying to drown out Idunn’s increasingly sexual monologue.

He shrugged, sitting back as he smirked like a cat. I cursed Idunn, who was likely transmitting everything to Baldur, who in turn told Arik. “Seemed like the thing to do at the time. I was fairly certain I’d either die, or you’d die, so it was worth the risk of you hating me for it.”

It was a lie. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but something in his tone rang false. I didn’t bother calling him out on it though. He had been patient enough with me. I supposed I owed him the same favor.

“Ass,” I said flatly. “I changed my mind because Einar threatened to hurt Branka if I didn’t choose Ragnar’s mate.”

Arik sat bolt upright again, his voice taking on a gravelly quality that would have scared me if it didn’t thrill me a little. “He what?”

“He threatened Branka. I could never choose him after that. And I figured if I became as powerful as you all said Baldur’s mate would be, I could protect her.”

He nodded, rising from his seat, his face grave. “I need to tell Jorgen. Put him on his guard. Bolt the door behind me.”

I nodded, rising from the bed with a groan. My body felt stiff after Idunn’s antics, and my knees were black and blue.

Arik’s eyes flicked down to my bare legs as I approached, glaring at my bruised knees.

“You shouldn’t be bruising like that.”

I shrugged. “You didn’t see how hard Idunn made me fall.”

“Perhaps. Do you feel any different? Your head, I mean?”

He lifted a hand to my brow, and I bore his coddling with as much patience as I could.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, pushing his hand away and waving to my nose. “No bleeding. No Chaos-headaches.”

“That could mean nothing,” he murmured. “The Rift is quiet for weeks after a Rifting.”

“Then we’ll just have to see if I bleed out in my first battle with a monster,” I said irritably.

“Not funny,” Arik replied darkly.

“It wasn’t a joke. Go warn Jorgen.”

He nodded, then paused as he held the door open with his hand on the frame. “For what it’s worth,” he started, pausing as he considered his words. His eyes met mine, a silver glow in the dark hallway beyond as he let go of a breath I hadn’t realized he was holding. “I’m glad you chose me, Eisa.”

I let the door close without a reply.

That was your moment to tell him you felt the same, drageling.

I rolled my eyes at the meddlesome dragon as I climbed back into bed.