Page 50 of Upon Buried Embers (Upon Buried Embers #1)

Rohan

“What the fuck happened!” I roar, pacing in front of my tent where all my clan are gathered. “Who was it? Who made her that way?”

I storm over to Beau, gripping him by the front of his tunic and hauling him within an inch of my face.

“What did you do?”

“No—nothing. I swear.”

“You were with her!”

“I found her like that and I called for help when she wouldn’t calm down.”

I’m going to kill him.

“He’s telling the truth, brother,” Kaldar says, coming over to me and daring to place a hand on my shoulder, knowing how close I am to losing it.

My head snaps to him, teeth bared.

“I saw her when he called. She was making these horrible breathing sounds and then she was screaming. He was trying to calm her down.”

I growl and shove Beau away. He falls on his ass, my clan watching it all unfold but I don’t care.

I heard her from across camp. I’ve never run so fast to get to her, fear driving me.

When I saw her clawing at her neck, tears rolling down her face, rage and concern blended together. I took her back to my tent, laying with her until she fell asleep.

She never said a word to me.

Not a single one.

“She left after some food,” Tofa says, and I whirl on her, ignoring how she backs away a little. “We were talking and she seemed fine.”

“And what were you talking about?”

“The Games. Everyone was talking about it.”

“So you scared her?” I take a step forward, and Calian steps in front of me, hand on my shoulder. I look at it and then back up at him. “Remove your hand or lose it.”

“Calm down. It wasn’t Tofa’s fault.”

“She probably scared her, made her this way!”

His eyes harden. “We were all talking about it, Rohan. They’re upon us, it’s natural for everyone to be speaking about them.”

I know this, but my rage and worry doesn’t care about that.

“Someone here hurt what is mine!” I bark out at everyone as Calian steps back, Tofa at his side. “Have you all forgotten the rules?” I say, walking between them. “Have you forgotten how you were all just punished recently?”

Some shuffle on their feet, others avert their eyes, sensing my anger.

“Have you?!” I demand.

“No, Dragonbond.”

“Then why is she hurt?” I point to my tent. “Why is something that is mine, hurt? Again!”

“Rohan…” Kaldar begins, and I pin him with my glare.

“Find them,” I growl, fire heating my skin. “Find out who it was, Kaldar, before I punish every one of them much more than last time. Find them before I make them all beg for death. Understand?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kaldar hedges.

“Yes, it will.”

“They didn’t all hurt her, Rohan, think about this.”

“I am thinking about it. This is the second time she’s been hurt in my clan and no more!” I explode, fists clenching at my sides. My clan takes a step back, a dragon’s roar in the distance, Drogonah, echoing my fury. “Find who the fuck did this.”

“Okay,” Kaldar placates, hands up. “Okay, I will find them, Rohan, but you need to calm down. You can’t do this here.”

My nostrils flare, and I know he’s right, but she’s hurt.

Always getting fucking hurt.

“Go to her, Rohan,” Kaldar says. “If she wakes up and you aren’t there, it won’t be good.”

I know, but my anger… she doesn’t respond well to it.

“I will find them,” he promises, and I take a deep breath.

“See that you do, Kaldar. I won’t be able to hold back much longer.” I turn and head back into my tent.

Pausing at the entrance, I steady my breathing, willing myself to calm down before I go near her.

She shouldn’t be around anything violent.

Yet you’re taking her to The Games….

I banish the thought and step inside, my eyes instantly going to where she rests in the makeshift bed.

She looks so small curled up, and I crouch beside her, stroking the side of her face. It’s puffy from crying, and some hair has come out of her braid.

“Tell me who upset you, Little Whisperer. Tell me and I will remove them.”

Her eyes flutter open, the green in them duller than normal, and my chest tightens.

“Please tell me who hurt you, who made you scream like that?”

“Rohan?” she mumbles, and the way she says my name—like it means something—has my nostrils flaring.

“I’m here.”

“You… are?”

“Always.” She hums. “Hush, rest.”

“I want it off.” Her eyes flutter closed.

“What?” No answer. “What do you want? Tell me and I will give it to you.”

“Off…”

My brows furrow as her breathing evens out.

She’s asleep.

My eyes drift down to the scratches below her chin and top half of her neck and my jaw ticks.

She wants it off, I realize.

The collar.

I curse and stand, chest heaving.

Why the fuck haven’t I found a way to take it off of her yet.

I stride to the flap, throwing it open. “Drogonah!” I shout, and my clan tenses looking to the sky, before Drogonah lands behind my tent in the space available. I grab my axe and go to him, holding it out. “Heat it.”

I hold it out and Drogonah grumbles, but he opens his mouth and fire bursts free in a controlled stream, hitting on one side of my axe.

As soon as the metal turns red with heat, unable to melt because of Drogonah’s scales fused within the metal, I go back to my tent, calling for Calian and Kaldar.

“What’s wrong?” Kaldar asks when he appears.

“I need you to hold her down.”

“What?”

“Hold her down.”