Page 44 of Upon Buried Embers (Upon Buried Embers #1)

Rohan

I watch her with my dragons as they eat out of the palm of her tiny hand.

They’re all lined up in front of her, and to my astonishment, she asks them to sit.

I shake my head at her, she must be out of her mind if she thinks—

They sit.

My dragons.

Sitting like fucking dogs.

Do I go over there and tell her to stop? No, of course not.

Instead, I lean against the wall, like I have done over the last two weeks, and watch in complete fascination as she wrangles my dragons like cattle.

Even Drogonah, though he remains in his bed, peeks at her—listening, watching, eyeing the wrist that is almost fully healed thanks to Asseya.

Guilt spears through me once more. There’s no satisfaction in seeing her so hurt and ill, especially not because of me.

And especially not because of some fucker she still won’t tell me about. Because of that, someone is with her at all times, man or dragon.

My Little Whisperer, on the other hand, seems to have moved past the ordeal easily, and it makes me wonder how many times she’s been through something similar.

Which I will pay back in kind to Emerish when I get a hold of him, and whoever the fuck hurt her when she tells me.

I have Kaldar, Adora, Calian and Asseya trying to figure out who is hurting her, my closest friends who I can trust fully.

When I find them…

Elf is still hurt that she thought Beau a friend though, I overheard her talking with Tofa about it while I stayed in the shadows, not letting her out of my sight for long.

Beau and Darcia are facing punishment for tricking her into washing my mother’s hair.

I don’t know what the fuck they were thinking, but they won’t ever do that again.

They’re lucky to still be alive. After much consideration with my council, I was outvoted and told although it’s against my rules, it isn’t punishable by death, unfortunately.

Which the little Elf agreed with.

She didn’t want them to die, I wanted to end them right there and then.

And I was weak for her and let it happen.

So, they have been on dragon shit duty, cleaning duty, doing whatever the fuck the clan wants, duty, and most of fucking all… they’re tied to the pole on the outskirts of the clan for another two weeks, only allowed off when they’re doing their shitty jobs.

Barely fed, barely acknowledged.

Once a day, Adora takes Darcia one-on-one and they…spar.

I take Beau.

I smirk at the reminder of him curling up into a ball on the floor after I delivered my fifth punch.

I would have left both of them tied to the pole for another week longer if I could.

“Shall we try laying down?” Her voice penetrates my thoughts, and there’s no fucking way—they all lay down.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

This is embarrassing.

When I first took her, I’d hoped she would be able to communicate with dragons, and she does in her own way, but fucking Gods, not like this.

They’re giant puppies to her now. When she enters the den, they all greet her in some way. Some rumble, some come over and rub against her. Or if it’s Escor, nearly knocks her over and licks her face.

She stands before the Tenebri dragon now and laughs, the sound filling something inside of me as he nudges her arm.

My fascination is a problem, as is the way my heart speeds up when she’s nearby. I didn’t even know it could do that, but with her, I’m learning my body does many things it isn’t used to.

My gaze travels down the tunic she’s wearing, mine of course, and I notice how although it’s still far too big on her, she has filled out more with steady meals.

Her face has more color, her cheeks a little rounder, and you can’t see her rib bones anymore.

I checked when she was bathing last night, undetected. As usual. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I see everything when she bathes, and my cock always likes it.

Too many times I’ve had to relieve myself by hand because of her, and since she left the clan in that snowstorm, the urge to claim her and keep her here is getting stronger.

Wrong or right.

Duty and honor.

They war within me as soon as I look at her, and I know we’ll all pay for it, but I can’t help myself.

Seeing her eat fills a need inside me I never knew existed, but watching her taste common food like it’s a delicacy, fills me with a rage I need to keep in check. More rage than when I saw my mother’s hair laying upon my table.

I’ve only been lost to the Dragonbond rage once, and it was when my mother told me her secret with her dying breath. It took days to come out of it, and carnage was left in its wake.

The fields of Erbron still smolder to this day.

I can’t lose myself to it now, especially not in front of her.

I would scare her, and after the way I’ve treated her already, I would rather burn from the inside out than let it touch her.

“Oh hush,” I hear her say, and I notice her holding a heat stone in her hands with ease now.

She’s stronger, and not out of breath while doing her daily chores anymore. She’s improved in her dagger training with Calian and Tofa. But now it’s time for hand-to-hand.

Which is why I’m here to collect her.

Kaldar was supposed to do it, but to have him that close to her, I couldn’t bear it.

Pathetic.

“Little Whisperer,” I call, and she turns to me, a smile on her face. My jaw clenches. Fuck, what I want to do to her. “Come.”

She turns, says goodbye to my dragons, and strides over to me.

I completely tower over her when she’s in front of me, her head coming to my chest, and yet she looks up at me like I mean something.

And that is fucking dangerous.

For us all.

“Where are we going?” she asks, as Escor creeps forward, intending to follow. I give him a stern look to stay back.

If a dragon could give those sad eyes a puppy can, that’s what he’s doing now.

He’s been following her around constantly, barely letting her out of his sight. I grumble, but I’m secretly glad she has his protection.

“Hand-to-hand is with me, let’s go.”

She runs to catch up to me, her little legs taking two steps to my one.

Do NOT pick her up.

Do not put her on your feet.

Do not fuck her.

“I thought Kaldar or Calian were doing it?”

They have both been my friends for the longest time, but I will not hesitate to remove them if they touch her like that.

“They’re busy.” I take a deep breath.

“Oh.”

Is she disappointed? Did she want them to?

I growl under my breath and feel her peek at me.

The rest of the walk is silent, other than the Dragorie greeting me. Some have even warmed to my little elf now, especially the children.

They like her ears, and I can’t say I don’t agree.

We crest the hill and look upon the training area. Some are out here, but it’s quiet for the late afternoon.

“Here?” she asks, and then pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath before she calms herself.

She likes to ask questions, and forgets her fear of it for the most part, but there are times like now where it grips her for a moment, waiting for a consequence that will never come.

My chest heats in anger.

“Yes. It’s flat, and the ground is softer.” Her fingers twitch, and I know she wants to ask more.

Her curiosity eventually wins out. Good girl.

Good girl? I do not say good girl.

“How do you keep the snow off of it?”

“Drogonah heats it up every other morning.”

Her wide eyes come to mine. “Truly?” I nod. “I’m surprised he lowers himself to such a menial task.”

Something happens then, something I cannot hold in.

A bark of laughter comes from me, surprising us both.

I’ve been focused on my goal, doing my duty as clan leader and a Dragonbond.

I don’t laugh.

She beams up at me and I forget what I’m internally saying.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Drogonah likes to have a purpose,” I say. “He does, however, only do certain things that he wants.” She nods.

“He’s magnificent though,” she says softly, looking at the ground. “I’m… I’m glad I got to meet him. Them .”

Why does she sound so sad?

I clear my throat and guide her through the open area.

“Today is basic blocking and maybe we can start some attack moves.”

She blinks, and then nods.

Snow falls softly, but with winter ending, it isn’t enough to deter training.

She shivers, but she will soon warm up.

We move to the center.

“Now, as you’re smaller than most, you will be quicker, less body to move and manipulate.” She nods. “But your size will come at a cost of being easily overpowered.” She swallows thickly, and I hate the look in her eyes.

Breathe, Rohan.

“Have one foot behind you, your dominant one, that will help your posture and take any impact, keeping it from knocking you over. Or at least try to.”

She moves her right foot back.

“Good, shoulder width apart.” She does. Always listening well to instructions.

“Your best defense is maneuvering your body in a way that makes it hard to hit. So if I come at you like this.” I fake a punch to her side.

“Twist like this to avoid it. Use your hips.” She does so.

“Let’s try and twist from both sides so you can balance correctly. ”

We go through it a few times.

“Good.” She smiles at me, cheeks flushed.

Gods.

“Now, if someone were to come up behind you.” I’m at her back, arms wrapping around her waist. “How would you get out of this hold?”

Does she know she just hummed at the contact?

“Um.” She wiggles, and I instantly still her. No. She cannot do that.

“Drop your weight.” She does, and I show her that I’m falling forward a little before I straighten. “Do you see how it knocks me off balance, even a little?”

“Yes,” she whispers, and my hold tightens without thought, that breathy answer going straight to my cock. I bury my nose in her hair discreetly, smelling rose-scented soap.

The only soap I’ve provided her since I first saw her face when she used it.

“Rohan?”

Right.

“When your weight drops, you need to turn and then with everything you have, hit them right in the center of their throat.” I spin her around and grab her hand, the one that doesn’t have a splint.

Curling it into a fist, I lower myself a little so she can reach better, and place it against my throat.

“This will cause them to struggle to breathe properly, and send them into a coughing fit. While they’re distracted, you get up and run.”

“Run?”

“Yes,” I grit out, my skin buzzing with her hand on it.

“Where do I run?” she asks, eyes flicking down to my throat before she looks back up.

“You run to me.”