Page 10 of Upon Buried Embers (Upon Buried Embers #1)

Elf

I don’t always make the smartest decisions. In fact, I usually don’t make many decisions at all.

I think being close to death… no, not being scared of death—only scared of pain, has made me bold somehow. Because I never defy an order unless I’m prepared for the punishment.

Sometimes it’s worth it, sometimes not.

I don’t know what will happen with Rohan for defying him, but I don’t intend to ever see him again to find out.

I need to get back to Effy, at least. I need to make sure she’s okay. If Master can throw me away so easily after all these years, what will happen to her?

Nausea swirls in my stomach, but I banish the thought.

Just keep running.

While I don’t sink too much in the snow, I still have to be careful of exposed roots and stumps.

I can hear the dragons roaring in the distance; still see the glow of flames when I look behind me.

I need to get further away, quickly.

No one is chasing me, they probably didn’t notice I ran and I need to be far away when they do realize it.

Snow falls heavier, night is quickly approaching, and I pull my hood tighter around my face to try to keep warm.

Am I even going in the right direction of the city? How will I get in?

I shake my head. I’ll worry about that when I get there.

With night coming, I can find a hollow tree and hide there for the night, let it pass and move again in the morning.

Then I can make it to a road or find a river and follow it.

Hopefully it will take me to someone who can tell me where I am and get directions back to Lothmere.

My breaths come out harsher the further I go, my limbs feeling like jelly but I can’t stop now. I only wish I’d stolen some food or maybe a waterskin before I left, but I had no time.

The trees start to thin out a little, and I end up running downhill before finding myself in some sort of gorge. Dirt surrounds me on either side, exposed roots peeking through from the trees above, like someone dug up the ground and made tunnels without a roof.

I run around a bend, gripping those roots for stability when a growl comes from behind me.

I freeze, my shaking hand gripping the dirt wall as I turn my head.

At first I don’t see anything, just the banks of the dirt … but then… there, on top of the wall next to a tree is a single wolf.

It’s a mixture of grays, teeth bared and snarling.

I swallow… because where there is one, there’s usually another.

It looks down at me, saliva dripping from its exposed teeth. When it moves out of sight, I dart forward and run like my life depends on it, because on this occasion, it does.

I run through the passages, my cloak snagging on roots and my hood falls down, my hair whipping around my face. I come to an upward slope, and I heave myself up the incline and run back into the trees, looking for anything that can help me, my lungs burning with every step.

I can’t climb a tree with the snow making them slippery, and there’s no hollow beneath any that I can hide out in. My only option is to outrun the howls that are closing in.

A hunt begins.

Gods.

A wolf comes out from the tree ahead of me, snarling as it stalks forward and I come to a stop, ready to sprint in another direction. But there’s another wolf there. I spin for another exit, only to find another, and another.

I’m surrounded.

Breathing hard, a whimper spilling from my lips, I hold my hands out in front of me.

Please, please, please.

The wolves stalk closer, snarling and growling, and I’ve never been more scared in my life. I should have stayed with the Dragorie and bided my time, I should have waited until I had some food and water, maybe stolen a horse.

I should never have run.

“Please,” I whisper to the wolves. “I…”

A wolf lunges for me and I scream, holding my hands up and getting ready to protect myself, to have my arms bitten and chewed, when a yelp comes from nowhere.

I fall back, crying out in alarm as I see a blur of fur.

But it’s an axe that slices through the air and into the wolf, then the next as another lunges.

Rohan.

He growls, more dragon than man as he cuts down the wolves that never seem to stop coming. He turns, a snarl on his face as he swings the axe over my head, blood splattering me. I hunch down, wrapping my arms around my legs, flinching at every strike Rohan makes.

He stands in front of me, circling me to stop any wolf that comes my way.

A darker wolf comes at me from the side with a roar, its teeth inches from my face before it’s ripped away by a hand on the back of its neck and thrown to the side.

I turn, ready to crawl away when a wolf who must have snuck through bites down on my boot. I scream, kicking my foot wildly to get it to let go, but it doesn’t.

Rohan embeds the axe into the stomach of one, leaving it there and grabs the jaws of the wolf on my foot. With one hand on the top, one on the bottom, he begins to pull apart its mouth.

I cry out and kick in panic when his hands begin to bleed.

“Still,” he barks at me, the command so forceful, I freeze.

Rohan pries the jaws open off my boot and throws its head to the side, kicking it down when it tries to rise on unsteady feet. As it comes back a second time, Rohan grabs the axe out of the other wolf and swipes it through the air into its jaw, slicing it open.

The wolf screeches in pain and drops to the ground, then there’s silence apart from Rohan’s heavy breathing and my small cries.

He looks around wildly, his eyes more feral than human, and I shrink back when they eventually come to a stop on me.

They’re dark, the ring of purple more prominent with the white snow as a backdrop.

He drops his axe, and in the next second, he’s stomping toward me and lifting me up, my feet dangling in the air as he shakes me roughly back and forth.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” he roars in my face, and I cry harder. “Do you have any idea what you just made me do? If you hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have had to kill those wolves! Their deaths were unnecessary.”

I sob, frantically trying to get him to release me, clawing at his forearms. “I told you not to fucking run. I told you to go to the clearing!”

He throws me to the ground, and I curl up on my side, shivering and whimpering, tears spilling down my face. We are surrounded by what may be a dozen dead wolves, and he’s going to hurt me now, I know it.

I curl tighter into my ball, hands over my head, leaving a little room so I can track him.

Rohan paces back and forth, his angry breaths reaching me as he growls and curses at me.

The wolves’ deaths are my fault, I know that, but I didn’t know there were any out here. I didn’t mean for this to happen.

“Fuck,” he curses, then take a few deep breaths, his back to me. I watch him through the curtain of my hair; my body slowly being frozen by the cold.

He continues pacing, hands clenching and then he stills, taking a deep breath.

I shiver.

He comes over to me then, and crouches, arms resting on his knees.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” I shake my head, hiccupping. “Come.” He sits me up, moving my hair out of my face and looks me over as I make myself stay as still as possible. He sighs. “You were stupid to run.”

“I… I know that.”

“Stupid, brave, Elf,” he mutters, continuing to clear my face of hair, wiping the snow from my cheeks.

His hands are so warm.

His face moves closer, his lips inches from mine when he rumbles. “Do not run again.”

“I won’t,” I sniffle. And I mean it. I won’t even make it to a river if wolves hunt the ground while dragons fly the skies.

But I had to try, at least once.

“Be sure, Elf. Running from a man like me only entices a hunt, one that will end very differently for you.”

I swallow, and nod.

“Up, now.” His voice is much softer.

I hiccup again, wiping my own tears as he whistles.

A horse comes forward, the one I rode before, and Rohan reaches for it when it neighs. “Hush, Serah, it’s okay.” He murmurs gently to her as I shiver where I stand, teeth continuing to chatter.

I don’t dare look at the blood on the ground, at what I caused… at the dead wolves.

I throw up without warning, and I feel Rohan’s glare as I squeeze my eyes shut. Hands grab my hair next, holding it out of the way as I throw up again, my stomach cramping as I expel everything I had eaten.

I gasp for breath, fresh tears streaming down my face.

“Just breathe and let it come up.” A large, heavy hand is on my back, rubbing in circular motions, albeit awkwardly, as I hack up what’s left. When I’m done, I wipe my mouth with the back of my arm. “Here,” Rohan says as he lets go of my hair.

I take the waterskin in shaky hands, rinsing my mouth out then taking a few gulps. I hand it back, and he suddenly lifts me onto the horse. I scramble for purchase, holding onto the saddle and squeezing my thighs together.

My whole body aches, but I would much rather be on horse than walk back... or worse… be on Drogonah.

Rohan scowls as he crouches down. “Fuck,” he growls, standing and stroking down Serah’s neck. “She has a wound on her leg. You will tend to it, seeing as though you caused it by running away.”

I hurt her, too?

Guilt weighs heavy on my shoulders.

Rohan climbs on behind me, then he’s moving my leg, adjusting me to lay over his lap like a sack of potatoes.

I press on my palms to move, but a heavy slap lands on my ass and I freeze, tensing up.

“Still.” The words are quiet, and I feel him once more tying me to him.

He taps his heel on the horse and we turn, moving back toward where we came from.

The cold has seeped into my bones now, causing a rattling I cannot help. Rohan growls, cursing, and I’m hauled up into a warm body, an arm coming to the front to hold the reins while the other wraps around my waist, tightly.

I’m too tired to resist the warmth, and I slump in defeat. He makes a rough sound, like a growl but softer, and the sway of the horse’s steps rocks me into a fitful sleep.