Page 49 of Upon Buried Embers (Upon Buried Embers #1)

“Help with what?” another voice says, and my head snaps up to the female Dragonbond as she approaches, only stopping when she’s next to the dragon, running a hand over her neck.

“I—I,” I begin, stuttering over my words.

She tuts. “You’re a woman, say what you mean and mean what you say.”

I clear my throat, and before I can think better of it, I ask. “Are you a good Dragonbond?”

Her eyes sharpen as her hand reaches for the dagger at her hip. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“No, no,” I rush out, scrambling to my feet, palms up. “I just, I need to know before I tell you.”

The dragon purrs, and she looks at it, brows furrowing.

“Celeste?” She rumbles again, and after a long moment, she replies. “I protect dragons with my life.”

I nod. “That’s what I am trying to help with, protecting them.”

“You?” She eyes me up and down. “What good are you to dragons, Elf?”

I fidget. “Do you promise not to tell anyone what I am about to tell you?”

“Promise? What are we, five?”

My cheeks heat, and the dragon rumbles once more, which makes her sigh.

“Yes, I promise.”

“I’m trying to find out who is stealing eggs.”

“What?” she hisses, coming close and gripping my arm tightly, moving me further away from the camp. “Explain.”

I rub at my arm when she lets go. “The only ones who could go into The Glade and take an egg would be someone the dragons trust, that they won’t even attack if they were to see them.”

“A Dragonbond.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” she growls, running a hand down her face, mask jostling at her hip. “Rohan thinks as much, I presume?” I nod. “And what help are you?”

“He thinks… I can communicate with dragons in a way. Rohan thinks if I get close to a Dragonbond’s dragon, I may be able to figure out who is taking the eggs.”

“And betraying us.”

“Yes.”

“How do you know it isn’t me?” she asks, head tilted.

“Your dragon.”

“What?”

“She’s happy, content, though she carries sadness.”

She stares at me for a moment. “You got all of that from her? From talking?”

“I did.”

“I see.”

The conversation halts, until Celeste purrs.

“I will think about helping,” Sigrid says. “To go behind other Dragonbonds’ backs is something we swore to not do in blood and fire, it’s essentially treason and we can be killed for it.”

“What?” I ask, eyes wide. He can be killed for this if found out?

“He didn’t tell you that?”

“He didn’t.”

Sigrid looks away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Be careful, elf, not all are as… friendly as me.”

Is it friendly to pull a blade on me?

“I know.”

She walks over to Celeste, leaning against her as she watches me leave.

My mind whirls with what she told me, but also what I told her.

Rohan won’t like that I told her, he’s going to be unhappy with me, angry maybe?

My stomach sinks, I don’t want him to be angry at me again like last time. How do I fix this—

“Oomph,” I bump into someone, crashing into a cart, banging my head. I rub it as someone grabs me by the collar, shoving me back into it, hard.

I cry out, pain rattling through my back.

“Look who it is,” sneers Darcia, and fear freezes me. I haven’t been alone with her since the snowstorm, making sure I am always with Tofa or Calian, even Rohan himself no matter his duties has stayed with me.

“Little slave girl,” her voice slurs, so she must have been enjoying the mead. “You should have fucking died when you left, do I need to remind you again what will happen if you stay?”

She grabs hold on my wrist with her free hand and I cry out, remembering how I snapped it the first time.

“L-leave me alone.” I try to find my voice but she laughs, the hand on the collar shoving me again and again into the cart, so hard that a bucket falls to the floor, grain spilling out of it.

“This is all you will ever be,” she says, sneering at the collar.

“A slave, just like you are supposed to be. Poor little elf girl, my Master hurt me , waa waa.” I try to peel her hands off of me, but she’s far stronger, and she laughs cruelly, her fingernails digging into my neck around the collar. “I will kill you.”

“Darcia?” someone says, but my vision swims, ears ringing as she continues to slam me against the cart so hard I think she’s torn my back.

“No one wants you here, so you can die. Why can’t you just die?” Slam. “Die.” Slam. “Die.”

“Darcia, come on before someone sees.”

She shoves me and I fall to the ground, gasping for breath. She leans down and grabs my hair so roughly I hiss at the sting.

“I will kill you, elf,” she whispers menacingly. “Mark my words, when you’re next alone, I will fucking kill you.”

Her blurry figure stumbles off toward someone, and I get to my feet, needing to get back to the tent, to the safety it offers. To Rohan, telling me everything’s okay.

But as I walk, tears streaming down my face, the collar around my neck feels restrictive, like it’s choking me.

I don’t want to die.

I did, but I don’t anymore.

She’s going to kill you anyway.

The whisper floats through my mind so suddenly that I place a hand to my chest.

No, no, no.

Pointless.

That is what I wanted, but now?

Weak.

I’ve had no purpose but to be beaten and berated.

To let it happen, to not fight back.

To do as I’m told and keep my mouth shut.

I reach up to the collar at my throat, pulling at it, screaming in frustration.

I want it off.

I want it off, I want it off, I want it off.

Vision blurring, I claw at my neck, the feeling of suffocation taking over me, tears dripping down my face, lungs burning with the need for air.

I.

Want.

It.

Off.

I teeter to the side as voices reach me, hands touching me and I recoil, screaming and trembling. My vision darkens, dulling at the edges.

“Rohan!”

“Elf, it’s Beau, it’s okay.”

I need Rohan.

Beau reaches for me once more and I scream again, blindly spinning in a circle, looking to get away, to not have hands touching me.

Then warmth surrounds me as I’m picked up, my face in a neck I know too well.

I still, slumping in his hold.

Safe.