Page 20
Chapter nineteen
Sifa
Everything’s Changed
“T hyra and I will go alone, leave you here with Astarot. I’ll come back after I drop her off and help you find your way out of here.”
Fhord’s on edge, anxious to put distance between us. The news that I bonded with Astarot rattled him more than I expected. He wants to get Thyra away from us. He’ll take her to a tavern nearly two day’s ride from here to hand her over to some of Bevin’s people. And he insists my dragon and I should wait for him to return before we leave this cave.
“Just go,” I demand, my voice growing more strident. I turn to him, frustrated and trying to ignore the pounding in my ears that started when Fhord insisted he’d come back after dropping off Thyra. “I don’t know why we’re even arguing about this. We’re going our separate ways. We may as well start now.”
“Everything’s changed, Sifa. Surely you can see that.” Fhord’s tone touches something inside I want to ignore. “We’re so close to the training grounds,” he continues. “They probably already realize the trainer’s dead. The search will be thorough. I understand dragons and I’ve traveled every inch of these lands. I’m not sure I can get you out—I have no fucking idea if anybody could with a dragon who won’t be able to fly anytime soon—but with me your chances are better.”
I let him get too close to me, and now I need him out of my life. Astarot and I have huge targets on our backs, and the longer he’s with us, the longer he’s at risk. So I spit my next words at him.
“Why the fuck do you care?” My voice is harsh. It has to be if I’m going to push him away. “We’re going our separate ways. You’ll just make yourself and Tindera the Dróttning’s enemies if you come back here. Astarot and I will face this alone when he’s strong enough to move.”
“And where the fuck do you plan to hide with a dragon?” Fhord’s tone is cold, but his narrow eyes are full of fire.
“I have no idea, Fhord,” I yell, my hands digging into the air above me. “We’ll figure it out. Without putting you or Tindera in any more danger.”
Draikana . Astarot’s voice drops into my thoughts. Spinning as a chill rolls down my spine and reaches out to capture every finger and toe, I stare at my dragon. And then I snap closed the jaw that fell open with his word. Tindera and Astarot are bonded. She’s the reason Fhord helped me save him.
“He told you, didn’t he?” His words emerge with a sigh. He didn’t want me to know.
Now my gaze finds Fhord’s. Pain and a hint of fear have replaced the flame in his eyes. Our impossible situation has gotten even harder. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I’m not angry. All I can feel is grief wrapping around my heart as a rock forms in my throat.
“We can’t be together, rabbit. You know that as well as me. Even if Astarot and Tindera are destined to be.”
“How is this going to work?” I don’t know much about the mating bond between dragons—whether it will compel them to be together, or what it’ll cost them if they’re not.
“I have no gods-damned idea what’s going to happen,” Fhord snarls. “The gods are fucking with us all.” He pauses, running his hands through his hair as he huffs out a breath. “Right now, though,” he adds in a more measured tone, “I need to get Thyra to safety. I’m coming back. Just be here when I do.”
“Fine. We’ll wait for you.” I don’t think we have a choice anyway. Astarot’s in bad shape. He’ll need that time to recuperate.
“We’ll take Hilde. We can travel faster if Sigurd isn’t weighed down, and you don’t need another mouth to feed while you’re here. I’ll leave most of the food with you and get more supplies when I drop off Thyra. You’ll have to go hunting for Astarot. He must be able to move when we leave. Two animals a day. That’ll rebuild his strength.” Fhord strides over to start pulling food out of the bags. “I think I’ll be gone three days.”
Three days doesn’t sound like nearly enough time, but Fhord knows more about dragons than me. I focus on the one thing I can do, because I can’t deny I need his help in this. “Any idea where I’m most likely to find food for Astarot?”
“Head west,” Fhord tells me as he starts strapping a few bags onto Sigurd. “There’s a herd of sheep in a valley you’ll find a couple of vikus from here. It’s part of the Nest’s food supply so make sure nobody’s around. Take some of the carrots and the rope I’m leaving with you. They’re tame, used to getting treats from humans, so you should be able to catch them. Dragons will only eat live prey.” He catches my gaze, a hint of a smile ghosting across his lips. “And strong as you are, you don’t want to drag a carcass all the way back here.”
I nod, relaxing a bit as his mood shifts. “Be safe, Fhord.”
“You too, rabbit.” He watches me for a moment as if he’s memorizing my face. “I’ll see you soon,” he adds as he turns toward the back of the cave to go wake Thyra.
They’re gone within a few minutes, Thyra whispering her thanks to me as Fhord settles her on Hilde and hands her some dried meat and fruit for her breakfast. And then it’s just me and Astarot. He’s soon asleep, though, his body demanding rest as it recovers from the weeks of pain he endured.
Dragging myself up from my spot on the floor next to my dragon, I put some distance between us and then turn to look at him. I was so preoccupied with his trauma the first couple times I saw him, I didn’t pay much attention to the details. Now I want to drink it all in, commit every part of him to memory.
He’s large, even with all the weight he’s lost. I suspect he’ll stretch seventy feet from his snout to the tip of his tail and weigh a couple thousand pounds. His feathers are red like the cardinals from my world, with black interspersed throughout. The design seems random at first but as I look, I see the waves that will run across the backs of his wings when they’re fully extended. The weeks of punishment cost him some feathers—patches mark the places the instruments dug into his skin—but he’s still got a stunning, regal plumage.
Stepping closer to him, I stroke his snout for a few minutes, luxuriating in the feel of him.
And then I go hunting.
At first, I’m surprised how good it feels to be outside and alone. I hadn’t realized how much I needed time to myself, to think through everything that’s happened in just a couple of weeks. How much I’ve changed. How much Fhord—and now Astarot—have changed me.
My thoughts drift back to Halla’s fateful words—that I should take a risk to save us all, and the warning that I’d soon be starting an unexpected journey. Maybe she really did see the future, predict this trip. If she did, was I destined to save Astarot? Was that the risk I was supposed to take? Or is something else coming?
Who knows? I wrest my thoughts away from those worries to focus on what I can do. I can find the herd and take food back to Astarot. I can help my dragon— my dragon, my brain reminds me with a wash of gratitude and pride—regain his strength. And then I can help him hide. Somewhere.
That last part is fuzzy, but we’ll work on that together. With Toffer. He’ll be ecstatic when he learns I’ve bonded with a dragon. I can’t hold back the smile that emerges at the thought. I wonder if Astarot will give him a ride. I’ll never hear the end of it if he does.
My good mood, buoyed by the morning sun and the beauty around me, carries me through my search. Twice I have to hide from a dragon flying overhead, but nobody gets close enough to find me. Barely an hour after leaving the cave, I find the massive herd Fhord mentioned. So far, so good.
I lay in the grass to watch the area around me, breathing in and out slowly to calm the heart that has started to beat more quickly. This could go awry at a moment’s notice.
It doesn’t, though. I wait until a dragon patrol flies overhead, giving it a chance to get far away as I cast my mind out, searching for anyone else in the area. When I find no mortal thoughts, I stand and approach the sheep, choosing an enormous male who stares at me for a moment. The carrot draws him close enough to rope his neck and I trap another. We’re all trotting back to the cave in a few minutes.
Astarot’s reaction when I return with two large sheep is everything. He hasn’t had fresh meat in weeks. His gratitude fills me with peace and, somehow, even more love. I tug the beasts farther into the cave and remove the rope from the larger one, stepping to the side to give Astarot more room.
Before I reach the entrance, though, I hear a short squeal and turn around to see an enormous lump sliding down the dragon’s throat.
“Did you swallow him whole?” I’d expected him to at least taste the meal he’s been waiting so long to enjoy.
Delicious , Astarot responds, his eyes sparkling at me. This is how dragons eat when they’re hungry. Every part of the prey provides some nourishment, fur, bones and all. He needs any food he can get right now.
“Do you want the other?” I have no idea how long it will take to digest his meal.
Later . Astarot tells me he should eat two each day, as Fhord said. In this weakened state, desperate for nutrition, his body will digest his meals quickly.
“Okay,” I agree. He settles down and I walk over to scratch him behind his horn. “Do you need to sleep again?” I’m hoping he’s awake and we can get to know each other. I want to learn everything about him, good and bad.
Later , he repeats. Astarot wants the same thing as me—to talk and explore our lives from before. He can sense some things about me, but we both have much to share with the other.
And so we do. We spend the next three days learning about our lives. He’s young by dragon standards, barely a hundred years old. He was connected to a rider earlier in his life, a cruel male whose death he celebrated. He’d expected a similar connection with his next rider. But then he sensed me and knew he had to wait, no matter what it cost him.
He was in this Nest when I landed in this world. He felt me appear, knew what I would mean to him. But he couldn’t do anything to help me. Dragons have no such power in this place.
Pain , he tells me when we talk about those days. Dragons are more sensitive than elves, even before a bonding. He felt my pain and suffered with me, although I never felt him. Some of the wails I heard were his, as he lived through my torture with me.
“I’m so sorry to have put you through that.” I stroke his nose as I watch his eyes reflect the agony we both felt. “But it helps to know I wasn’t alone, that you were with me even then.” Part of the weight I’ve been carrying for a decade lifts away, helping me find a bit more peace with what I experienced.
Sympathy . He’s grateful for the pain and the connection to me it created. It gave him the strength he needed to withstand his own torture when they tried to offer him to a different rider.
“Tell me about that,” I ask when his thoughts shift to the unworthy human they’d chosen for him.
Wicked . The Dróttning demanded that he bond with an evil man, unworthy of Astarot. The dragons share stories about the humans in this world. They all know who’s looking for a beast to bond and what to expect from that rider. They’d warned each other about this human’s request for a mount and what it would mean.
“You refused. And they tortured you.”
Yes . It’s been two months since he rejected the rider, he relays to me with that simple word. Two months of agony, growing more extreme every week. Three different trainers tried to break him, the last one the most cruel. He’d spent only a few days with this male and had already come close to giving in.
“When did you realize you were connected to Tindera?”
I sense his joy and a love so intense, it’s hard to believe it could exist. It’s my first experience with the bond between mated dragons, and it renders me breathless. We both sit in silence for a moment as he lets that emotion settle within me, now a permanent part of my being.
Draikana , he tells me, wonder in his voice. For whatever reason, their paths never crossed until Tindera was brought to this Nest for her injury. He first sensed her the next morning as she said goodbye to Fhord. Her grief at his departure, combined with the pain of her damaged lung, overwhelmed him even as he suffered his own abuse. He suspected they were bonded, but wasn’t sure of their connection until she found him.
She tracked him down as he rested after a particularly grueling torture session, arriving just when he needed her most. It had been so long since he sensed my presence—the ten years I’d been in the southern part of this world—and he’d struggled to hold on to hope. Tindera renewed his resolve, gave him something to live for. Since she got here, she’s spent as much time with him as she could without getting caught.
Tindera helped him hold on long enough. And then forced Fhord to accept her choice. And mine.
When Fhord returns, I’m snuggled next to Astarot as he sleeps, luxuriating in the peace of his presence. I’m so focused on my dragon that I don’t notice his approach, looking up to find him staring at me, eyes wide and full of some emotion I can’t let myself acknowledge. And my heart twists. He’s so fucking beautiful. I wish to all the gods he could be mine.
We watch each other for long seconds before he glances up at Astarot. “He looks stronger. I think we can move him. We’ll find you someplace safe to hide and then I’ll leave. Give us both the space we need to forget about each other.”
“Not forget, Fhord. Never that,” I whisper as I stand up, afraid of losing this part of him—the memories of the time we’ve spent together. “But we’ll let go. We have to.”
“Tindera and Astarot can keep their distance. They know what it means to be mated to a dragon not chosen for them by the Dróttning. They need to hide their connection. Too.” The last word is a whisper that barely reaches me.
“Astarot told me the same thing. Dragons are patient, he said. He can wait as long as he must to make sure they’re safe when they fully bond.” I catch Fhord’s gaze, holding it as I add, “Their relationship is every bit as fucked up as ours.”
He nods, dropping his chin for a moment and then looking up at me again. “I’m going to miss you, my little rabbit.” Fhord steps forward to place his hands on my cheeks, his thumbs catching the tears I can’t seem to hold back. “I wish we’d been born into a different world. That we didn’t have these secrets that keep us apart.”
I lean into him, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly, and then step away. Because if I don’t leave now, I might give in to the part of me that wants nothing more than to open myself completely to this man.
“Don’t go yet, little rabbit. We can’t have tomorrow. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up today.”
Something inside me sparks to life with his words. I know as well as he does this is a bad idea. That we shouldn’t let ourselves explore this thing between us. But I want it. I want him.
He watches me for a few seconds and then takes a single step, dropping his head toward me. Hovering there, barely any space between our lips, he pauses, letting me decide if we go any further.
When I kiss him, Fhord is unleashed. His hands sweep out to pull me closer as his mouth opens and his tongue reaches into me. I burn everywhere he touches—the lips and the tongue that tangles with mine; the hands in my hair and on my back, holding me like he’ll never let go; the strong chest underneath my hands, which want nothing more than to feel his skin.
And the erection. Gods, the erection. It grew as soon as our bodies touched, declaring its need for me. I am desperate to caress Fhord’s length, and then feel him inside of me.
When Fhord’s hand drops to my ass, the other reaching around to stroke one of my breasts, a sigh slips from my lips. My core is erupting, demanding his touch. I have never needed anyone more than I need Fhord now. One of my hands leaves his chest, dragging down his stomach to find his erection and squeeze, drawing out a long moan from him.
“Fuck,” he gasps out, his lips finding my earlobe and then whispering down my neck. “You are so fucking dangerous. I need you, my little rabbit. I’ve been trying to deny it, to push you away. I can’t. I need you. Even if it’s only once.”
And then my ears respond. The tingle tells me I’ve lost control of my body and they’ll be emerging soon. But I’m ready. To share this secret with him. Our dragons are mates. He needs to know this about me. To know what I am.
I step back, dropping my head to wrest back control of my body. My limbs are shaking, and I don’t know if it’s fear or passion. I do know, though, that I have to tell him. He can’t find out when my body responds to him. He needs to hear it from me first.
Fhord’s gaze is haunted. “I’m sorry.” He spins around, his hands spearing through his hair. “You’re right. We know we can’t do this.” Turning to look at me again, his heart in his eyes, Fhord lifts a hand but lets it drop before it reaches me. “It’s just … when I saw you with Astarot … I forgot. For a minute, this fucked-up world disappeared, and it was just you and me. The sun and the moon that will always revolve around you—the only light or heat I could ever want.” He inhales again, his eyes shuttering. “It won’t happen again,” he murmurs.
I watch him for a moment, his shoulders tense even as his head droops in front of him. And my heart cracks. “I kissed you, Fhord,” I breathe out. “This is as much my fault as yours. We’ve let this thing grow between us. But that’s not why I stopped.” I pause, a rock forming in my stomach to replace the fire Fhord had launched in me.
His gaze finds me again. And he waits.
“You have to know something first. I need you to hear it from me before you see it.” My fingers are trembling. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. But I trust him.
Stepping closer, erasing the distance between us, I reach for his hand. And then I stare at the floor. I’m about to bare myself to this man I’ve known for a couple of weeks. Somehow, I trust him.
“Nobody but the Dróttning and a few of her guards knows this about me,” I whisper. “And Toffer,” I add with a smile he probably can’t see. Looking up again, I find Fhord’s eyes. “If the Dróttning knew where to find me, she’d have me killed. Or imprisoned. With the rest of the elves.”
Fhord doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move, the hand that holds mine motionless. My heart beats a dozen times as I wait. And then his grip on my hand tightens as the other rises to rest on my cheek.
Danger . Astarot’s warning drops into my thoughts. Searchers are coming. We need to hide.
My stomach clenches.
I just exposed myself completely to this male I met barely two weeks ago.
I know nothing about him, other than what he’s chosen to show me.
But it can’t be a coincidence they’ve arrived on his heels.
The pain and desperation I escaped a decade ago fill me, dragging me back to those wretched days and the handful of soldiers who used deception to try and reach me. They pretended to be allies, only to betray me when I tested their lies.
The realities of this world—the agonizing lessons I learned in the Nest—wash over me.
Everybody bows to the Dróttning.
I shouldn’t have trusted him.