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Chapter fourteen

Fhord

I’ll Protect You

H oly fuck . That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I’d have been turned on if my little rabbit had killed those men dressed in a potato sack. That devious mind of hers knew exactly what she had to do to save us. She played them like fiddles, giving the bastard Olan what he needed to trust her. He thought she was helpless. He died knowing how fucking stupid and gullible he was. And how brilliant she is.

But she's not wearing a sack. I can’t drag my gaze from her bare skin. The little layer of sweat that sparkled in the sun as she flung her blades at them. Her powerful body, with curves where they should be, muscles where she needs them. The thin fabric covering her breasts, that can’t hide nipples screaming her excitement. The smile that tells me she’s got the courage to kill when she must.

My savage is roaring at me, demanding I take her now. I’m hard as fuck, but I don’t care. Sifa knows what she does to me. I gave up trying to hide it. I like being teased by her, watching her eyes shine as she sees the rise she gets out of me. She’s having fun and I’m here for it. Every single part of me is on board for whatever my rabbit wants to do.

My resolve is slipping and I need to care.

I cannot let myself get close to her. It would cause so much pain.

Tindera and my ?tt—they’ll be the ones punished for my weakness.

But fuck , this is hard.

Everything is so hard.

She finally stops laughing and turns toward the tent. My grunt stops her, and I use my head to gesture to the ropes. She needs to untie me.

“I should throw on some clothes first,” she says with a gesture at her curves.

I lay there helpless as she ducks into the tent and then comes back out fully dressed in tight leather pants and a corset that hugs her perfect tits. My savage is wide awake, trying to figure out what we have to do to see Sifa’s skin again. To feel her next to us.

I need to calm the fuck down .

When she unties me, my hands find her cheeks. “You’re so fucking dangerous,” I breathe. “That was magnificent.”

And then I leave. Because if I stay, I won’t be able to stop myself. I’m by the creek for a long time, wresting control back. Finally, with every part of me a little more relaxed, I make my way back to the tent.

Sifa’s dragged the men away and is trying to brush over the blood stains they left. She looks at me, her eyes crinkling with a broad grin.

“I thought you’d never come back. I need to wash their grime off, but we can pack up and leave as soon as you get a little food.”

I pause, holding her gaze. “Thank you, my brave, selfless rabbit. I owe you.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “We’re traveling together. We do what we must to survive.”

But I don’t want to blow this off. “You exposed yourself—in every way possible,” I add with a lopsided smile—“to save me. You could have escaped alone. Hilde would have carried you away. But you risked everything to protect me. Thank you.”

Sifa’s eyes start to glitter, and I watch as a swallow moves down her throat. “What else could I have done?” she asks in a quiet voice, full of emotion. Then she smirks. “At least until you answer a few of my questions.”

“I knew there was a reason,” I tell her with a laugh. “I still appreciate it.”

“But you do owe me. We’re agreed?”

“Definitely,” I assure her. I’m stunned by how comforted I am to have this promise between us, as if any commitment soothes the savage that demands a closer connection. I can’t put her behind me until this debt is paid.

We move quickly to pack and leave. Too much of the day already has passed, and we have far to go. The next two days are surprisingly smooth, making me nervous. It shouldn’t be this easy to approach the Nest. Sifa seems to notice it too. We’re both on high alert, our eyes constantly searching for any hint of a threat as we draw close.

Sifa’s also growing more nervous by the hour. She’s quiet on the final morning, her eyes distant, little wrinkles forming at their corners and across her brow every time she lets herself look toward our destination. I know why, but I can’t tell her that. Still, it might help her to talk about it. We both need her at her best over the next two days.

“Rabbit? Are you okay?” I make sure my voice is gentle, soothing.

The world—my world—looks back at me as she lifts her eyes to find mine. And then I feel her emotions shift, from the anxiety tinged with fear I sensed when we woke, to resolve. Defiance. Resistance.

“I’ve heard a lot about this place,” she tells me in a flat voice. “This will be dangerous.”

“I’ll protect you,” I assure her, “from anything, anyone, we may find in there.”

Sifa scoffs but I feel her comfort at my words. “Maybe it’ll be me protecting you,” she suggests.

“We’ll protect each other.” I hold her stare for a moment, letting her see the savage that will not let any harm come to our mate. Letting her sense my resolve, as strong as hers. She nods, and I feel her relax, just a bit.

We’ll do this. Together. And then we’ll get away from each other. Forever.

“Today we’ll enter the caves,” I tell her. “We’ll need to be alert, but we should be safe there. I don’t have any reason to believe they’ve been found.”

“How would you know if they had?”

“Tindera’s here,” I remind her. “She still spends time in the caves. She likes being alone.” My feelings for my mount wash over me, stilling my tongue for a moment. It’s been too long this time. I can’t wait to see her again.

“It’s tough to communicate over large distances,” I say after a minute, “but we’re close enough for me to feel her presence, and for her to feel mine. She knows what I plan. If we were walking into a trap, she’d tell me, despite the risk.”

Sifa quirks a single eyebrow, a silent question.

“The Dróttning can listen in on conversations between dragons and riders, and even capture the substance of the dragon’s recent memories. She needs to be close enough and focused on the particular dragon to do that, so it’s possible to speak without her eavesdropping. But she holds control in part by wielding knowledge.”

I pause for a moment, lifting my gaze toward the massive peak ahead of us. “I’m told she’s coming to the Nest soon,” I tell my little rabbit after a moment, “and I’m not supposed to be here. I can chance a few words with Tindera but no more.”

“How does your communication with her work?” Sifa’s eyes light up with her question. She’s eager to talk about dragons and my bond with Tindera.

“The closer we are, the easier it is.” I pause, thinking through the limits on what I can say.

“If it helps, I know there are some barriers that can’t be breached. They stop any communication between dragon and rider. And I know that includes the entrances to the caves.”

“You’re not supposed to know any of that,” I point out. I don’t agree with all the Dróttning’s mandates, but this one makes sense. Enemies of the Kastali can’t know the limits of the dragon-rider bond.

“I do, though. I can’t tell you how—it’s one of those secrets we’re going to keep from each other,” she adds with a smile—“but it might help us both for me to know what will stand in the way of you getting information from Tindera.”

“You’re right. It helps. I can tell you most of the rest. If Tindera’s deep in the caves, I’ll only be able to connect with her while I’m there too. I won’t be able to reach her when I’m in the caves and she’s not. Outside of those limits, distance is everything. When I’m in the South and she’s here, we have only the bond that formed when we embraced our pairing, telling the other we still live. It’s too far. As we get closer, I sense her and that feeling grows.”

I pause, mentally stroking my link with my dragon. I can almost hear her purr—or, what passes for purring in dragons. “She and I first started to sense each other yesterday evening. It’s part of the reason I pushed us so hard. I wanted to go to sleep with Tindera’s touch. We can share emotions at this distance easily. If we needed to, we could exchange words, but we won’t risk saying much. She’d let me know if we had something to fear.”

“Is that why you slept so well?” Sifa’s smile is soft, friendly.

“That and the female by my side to protect me.”

Gods help me . I’m so fucking feeble. The words came out before I could stop them. I have to resist the urge to stroke Sifa’s cheek. My savage fights to take over when she looks at me like that. But being this close to Tindera will bolster my resolve. The cost of giving in to my savage, of claiming Sifa as my own, would be too high.

“At your service,” Sifa responds as she stands and gives me a playful bow. “We should go.”

I’m grateful for the shift, reaching out again to Tindera to remind myself where my loyalties lie as I stand and follow Sifa to the horses. We ride in silence for a few hours, but we both know that won’t last. We’ll run into sentries soon. And as expected, we’re eating a quick midday meal, hidden in some bushes near a creek, when we hear hints of danger.

“There’s nothing out here,” one of them complains, his voice bordering on a whine. “It was a trick of the light. Nobody comes this close to the Nest.”

“I know what I saw,” another mutters, angry. “You may not want to be here, but here you are. We will do our job, find any who would enter these grounds unbidden.”

“But nobody does that. It’s suicide. I’ve been here more than a year, and not a single soul has tried to come here without the Dróttning’s consent.”

Their voices are getting closer. If they’re searching for us, we may have no choice but to kill them. Which I don’t want to do.

“Because we do our job well. All know what they risk.”

The males go silent, the only sound their horses’ hooves crunching over the pebble-strewn ground. It seems that even Sigurd and Hilde hold their breath, waiting for this threat to pass. I chose these mounts for a reason. Even as slow as Hilde has become, she still outsmarts most of the others in the stables. Except Sigurd.

Perhaps the gods are smiling on them, because the males don’t approach the bushes that protect us. We wait long enough to ensure they’re gone and then start to pick our way toward the cave entrance. Four more times we hide to evade patrols—the Dróttning has pulled her forces closer to the Nest for some reason—but we make it by the end of the day.

I hear Sifa’s long inhale as we break through the trees, giving us our first view of the range that harbors the Nest. Even from the side, our only safe approach, it’s equal measures intimidating and awe-inspiring, Vanatia’s largest array of mountains with its highest peak. The crags that shoot into the sky look like bursts of lava frozen in place, their shapes random and unpredictable. Black sand and rock have been covered over the millennia by trees and bushes but haven’t disappeared fully beneath nature’s blanket.

The dragons chose this place at the dawn of time, expanding to the southern Nest only when their numbers had grown so large they had no choice. Tindera has told me of the dragons’ love for its untamed and savage landscape. Although dragon myth does not acknowledge it, I suspect their choice was more practical. A vast cave system winds beneath the entire chain, a river connecting each spike to the others, creating abundant pools along the way.

Greens and golds spread out to our right, a feigned invitation to any who might make it this far. The paths created by grass and bush lead to the front, where those who are welcome enter. We take the rocky trail, going left and toward the back. After a tedious trip picking our way across the slopes, hiding in shadows when we must, we finally make it to the outer cave.

“We’ll wait here until Tindera comes. She knows when to meet us. It won’t be long.”

Sifa’s eyes widen, delight glimmering in them for a moment before she blinks and quells her response. Still, I can’t suppress my own pleasure. The rational side of me doesn’t want them to like each other—no good would come of it—but I can’t deny desperately hoping they do.

“She’s here,” I tell Sifa after a few minutes. And then she is.

I’m always awed when I see Tindera after a long separation. She’s the most majestic dragon in the Nest, bar none. The gold and black feathers that cover her sparkle in the late sun, as if the dwarfs themselves wrought each on their forge. They create a shifting pattern over most of her body, enough of the black mixed in to highlight and contrast with the glittering plumes that dominate. As they lead to her legs the blacks take over, the massive claws hidden under feathers as dark as a cloudy night.

It's her eyes, though, that I love the most. They’re the blue of the sea in my favorite lagoon, warm like the water there and every bit as fluid. Deeper and darker if Tindera’s emotions ride high, they shift to a relaxed, crystalline azul when she’s comfortable and happy.

I watch as they do just that after she rolls a massive boulder away from the cave and pops her head out of the opening she’s created. And then I walk over and rest my forehead on her snout for a moment, letting go of the tension that’s been building in me since this trip began. Tindera will settle me. She’ll help me stay focused on what matters. And what I cannot allow to matter.

Home , Tindera tells me, using the shorthand of her species, which always relays more information than that single word. Like me, she’s empty when I’m gone. Only when we’re together does she feel like she’s at home.

I’m not as concerned as I was about speaking with Tindera. Now that I’m in the caves, I’m positive the Dróttning’s not here, so she can’t overhear our words. Still, I talk out loud for Sifa’s benefit. I remember how frustrating it was, before Tindera and I bonded, to watch a dragon and rider converse without including me. I’ve made it a habit to not do that with Tindera unless I must.

“It’s been too long,” I tell her, my heart in my throat. “Are you healing well?”

Strong , she assures me, heaving a breath to emphasize her point. The damage had been to a lung, and she wouldn’t have been able to do even that a few weeks ago. Soon .

Relief washes over me, worries I didn’t realize I’d been harboring lifting away and leaving me feeling light and free. I stroke her nose for a minute, savoring this reunion, and then stand.

“We should get inside before I introduce you.”

Tindera nods and steps back, making space for us and the horses to enter. She pauses while I light a torch, then rolls the rock nearly back into place. She won’t be with us when we return, so she allows enough room for us to leave without her. She’ll come back later—when she can be sure she won’t be found and possibly suspected—and close it completely.

As soon as she’s done, Tindera drops her chin onto the ground, taking the least aggressive stance possible for a beast this large. Her eyes find my little rabbit and gaze at her for a long time, measuring this female she knows is my unwanted mate.

Kind , Tindera tells me. Dragons can sense character, a necessary part of their bonds with riders in the early days, when they were given a choice about who would ride them.

I huff out a laugh as I nod. She’s right. I hate to admit anything about Sifa that might draw us closer, but I can’t deny she’s kind.

Elf , Tindera says, a deep despair embedded in that single word. I’ve been too far away to tell her, but now she realizes why this bond is so utterly fucked up. She knows how much danger we’d all be in—especially her—if I took this elf into my bed or my home.

The Dróttning never told me about Sifa, but I know she’s spent the last decade searching for the first elf to escape the Nest. She never saw my little rabbit, thank fuck, but too many guards would recognize her. Even without that, though, the Dróttning would sense my bond with Sifa as soon as I embraced it. It would change me, and I’d never be able to construct a shield strong enough to hide such a fundamental part of me from the Dróttning.

Elf , I affirm in Tindera’s thoughts. Hidden , I reiterate. Not even Sifa can know that our mating bond lets me sense her true self. Just knowing an elf walks free in Vanatia is a death sentence. Even for me, loath as the Dróttning would be to have me killed.

Tindera blinks her eyes once, shuttering the sorrow she’d let creep in, and then turns back to Sifa.

Grateful . She wants me to help her speak with Sifa.

“Tindera knows you saved my life,” I explain. “She asked me to relay her thanks.”

Sifa’s responding smile is almost brighter than the torch I hold. “Can Tindera understand my words if I speak directly to her?”

“She can,” I affirm.

Sifa turns to Tindera, focusing on a single eye like so many riders do. She acts as if she’s spent time around dragons in the past and knows how to interact with them.

“You’re welcome, but I don’t need thanks for protecting him. We’re in this together. I’ll do all I can to keep him safe, just as I know he will me.”

Strong , Tindera tells me, her scrutiny never straying from Sifa.

“She is that,” I say out loud for Sifa’s benefit. “Tindera has seen into your heart, found your strength of will.”

Dangerous , Tindera adds. And I know exactly what she means. Sifa doesn’t threaten us physically. Her danger lies in her appeal. In the fact that she’s my mate, and I’m more attached to my little rabbit already than I ever wanted to be.

My response to Tindera is in my thoughts this time. I’ll keep her away from me , I promise. I won’t let myself get drawn into something that would threaten all of us .

I feel Tindera’s conflict. She wants me to have this, knows the emptiness I’ll carry for the rest of my life if I don’t. But she understands better than anyone what would happen if I gave in. Quandary , she says after a moment.

No , I respond, my thoughts sharper than I’d like. This isn’t some challenge we’ll work through. I can never have Sifa . I pause to make sure she can see my resolve. I will never let myself have her , I insist.

Quandary , Tindera repeats, her thoughts emphatic.

Willful creature , I say as I pat her snout. And then she turns to lead us deeper into the cave.