Page 65 of Upon Buried Embers (Upon Buried Embers #1)

Rohan

“You have been called here because this year, The Games will begin early,” King Halen says.

He’s sitting on his throne atop some steps, a purple carpet rolling down the center of them.

His guards line the entire room, swords at their hips, the purple bands around their arms showing their loyalty to the asshole.

I clench my jaw. I was supposed to be in bed with my Little Whisperer, but instead, every Dragonbond got called up before the king, and failure to arrive would mean death.

A death we would not give him willingly.

So we all came, early, and we’re all pissed because he’s kept us waiting for hours.

“You are to send your dragons to their temporary dens, as done previously, and your camps have been set up accordingly in the Enclave.”

“And those who are to enter The Games?” Sigrid dares to ask, the anger in her tone evident.

The king raises a blond brow, his dark eyes full of irritation at the question.

“Oh, did I forget to mention?” He stands, stepping toward us but not too close, he wouldn’t dare. “All members of all clans are to enter the very last Games.”

“What?” I spit out.

“What do you mean, all ?” Durruk says.

“And last ?” Varan shouts.

King Halen holds up a hand and comes to a stop twenty feet away from us.

He’s six foot, stomach slightly bulging and his fat fingers are adorned with rings. He wears his fine purple tunic, a necklace with the king’s sigil engraved on it and formal pants.

He has a golden dagger at his hip, but if he comes any closer we would rip him to shreds.

“I’ve decided that I’m… bored with this truce and declare a new one. So all members will participate.”

“And what is the new truce?” I ask, gritting my teeth and his eyes flash to mine.

He doesn’t hide the hatred there, and I don’t hide mine.

“One game to end it all. If you win, you take your people and your dragons home, never to be bothered again.”

“And if you win?” Karag asks, the first time he’s spoken.

“I take it all from you. Your people, your dragons.”

“No,” Sigrid growls.

“That’s not fair, you can’t make us do this!” Durruk shouts.

“Our dragons will burn it all to the ground if you try,” Varan warns.

“And why haven’t you?” King Halen asks, his tone smug.

“Let me put it in simple terms that you barbarians will understand. You came here on your dragons, yes.” We all freeze, and his smile is lethal.

“Well, let me just say that all I need to do is flick my fingers, and they’ll be sound asleep.

And whatever will happen to them when they’re so… vulnerable?”

“You’re lying!” Sigrid snarls, and my axe is already at my side. “You break the truce if you harm the dragons outside of The Games.”

He shrugs. “I just told you I was bored of it, are you deaf? I have your dragons locked away in the Enclave, and the rest will come shortly.”

“You did what?!” I roar.

That isn’t possible…

But his eyes… his smile.

He’s not lying.

I’ll fucking kill him.

“Now,” he says, walking back to his throne.

“You will cooperate for your own good. If not,” he pauses and looks at us from over his shoulder.

“You will forfeit, and I’ll keep your dragons.

They’ll be under watch at all times by my guards, and if anything happens, if you try to harm me or my city, they will be hurt. ”

“I don’t want this new truce,” Varan says, eyeing us. “None of us do.”

He laughs, taking his seat again. “You seem to think you have a choice. As we speak, your camps are burning.” We freeze, shocked into silence. “And anyone left is being brought here.”

“What did you just say?” I ask, voice deadly and he smiles wide.

“There’ll be nothing left of your camps come morning.”

Alara…

I step forward, my heart hammering painfully as rage rises to the surface.

The others follow, weapons raised, but then every single guard around the room raises their swords, all fifty of them.

In their other hands, is a glass sphere full of green vapor that they’ll throw at us, making sure to stay far back.

One hit with that, and we’ll be knocked out.

“You’ll die before you get near me, and then what will happen to what’s left of your clans? Your dragons?”

We all pause, chests heaving and I can feel the anger of each and every Dragonbond as dragons roar in the distance.

Drogonah.

“Now, go back to your allocated camps and await the rest of your clan’s arrival.” He laughs. “Well, whoever was lucky enough to be left. And remember, you can wander through my city as you see fit, my hospitality is gracious, but cause any trouble and you know what will happen…”

After a tense moment, we turn as one, fury boiling, and it nearly explodes out of me when Halen calls, “Oh, Rohan? A moment.”

I stop short and close my eyes briefly, hands clenching.

The guards escort the others out of the room, all of them eyeing me warily.

I take a breath before I turn. “What?”

“You dare talk to your king this way?” he growls, and the rest of his guards shuffle uneasily. “Try. Again.”

He has your dragons, Rohan.

Your home is burning.

“Yes, my king,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Better,” he hums and then leans back on his golden throne, the purple cushioning a deep color, symbolizing who he thinks he is.

He grabs a tankard from the small table next to him and takes a gulp.

“You have promised to deliver me something.” I will my body not to tense, not to let his words show how they affect me.

“I wrote to you for an update, and you told me there was a delay, after you had already told me you’d acquired what I needed and would deliver it at The Games.”

“That’s correct. There was a problem I’m rectifying, but it seems you’ve ignored our deal and have now decided to play even more games.”

“Ahh, but I think it’s you who is playing games, Rohan.” His voice is a murmur, but there is anger behind it.

“I’m playing no games, this is our lives! And if it wasn’t for that vapor, you know you’d be dead,” I snarl, nostrils flaring.

He pauses with his drink halfway to his mouth. “Who knew that the great Dragonbond, Rohan Asgarr, the first to claim Drogonah, the youngest Dragonbond, was a liar?”

I stay silent, and he tips his head back and laughs.

I itch to take the axe and throw it. It would land in his head perfectly, splitting it in two.

But our dragons.

“Well,” the king says, flicking his fingers. “Let’s see your lies out in the open.”

I frown, and a moment later, the door opens behind him, and two guards walk through, dragging a body with a hood over their head.

My heart pounds as I look at the king’s smug face, and then back to the person who is thrashing, whimpers coming from them, and my whole body tenses.

No.

“Remove the hood.”

A guard does, and almost in slow motion, red hair spills from beneath it, followed by wide, scared, tear-filled green eyes and …

I.

Fucking.

Lose.

It.

I don’t think about my clan members.

I don’t think about my dragons.

All I can think about is her.

And that he has her.

With a roar, axe in hand, I rush for her. Guards come at me, swords ready and I swing, uncaring of who is in my way, who gets hurt or who dies.

“Don’t use the vapor yet,” I hear the king shout, but I’m too busy punching a guard in the face and swinging my axe down on another.

The guards descend on me, and I growl, splitting heads and arms, severing thighs and taking hands clean off. All the while I hear her crying, shouting for me, not understanding and so fucking scared.

Meanwhile the guards try and wrestle me down, try to take my axe from me and restrain me, to get me under control, but they can’t.

They have what is mine.

The haze takes over. My booted feet kicking, my left hand punching as my axe comes down on another guard’s head, leaving more bodies in my wake.

One thing does manage to stop me though.

It was quiet amongst the guards shouting, but I heard it.

A pained cry.

Her cry.

I stop, my head snapping to her. A guard has her hair in his fist, pulling back so tightly that I can feel the sting from here. She scratches at the guard, trying to get him to release her.

I will remove that hand.

But that’s not what has me pausing, it’s the knife to her throat.

My hands fall limply at my sides, her pain-filled eyes staring right back at me.

She whimpers, and my jaw clenches.

She’s got blood on her, and I don’t know if it’s hers or someone else’s, and she’s bleeding from the side of her head.

“Let her go!” I shout, chest heaving.

“Back up a little,” the king says, waving a hand and the guards do so, but only so I have a clear view. “You owe me sixteen guards.”

I owe him nothing.

“Let. Her. Go.”

“Oh?” he swirls his drink. “But is this not what we had a deal for?”

I eye my Little Whisperer as her brows furrow in confusion, blinking widely.

The king looks at her and laughs.

“Oh? She doesn’t know?” He laughs harder, and my chest heaves at what he’s about to do. “Remove the cloth from her mouth.”

Her sweet, scared voice hits me.

“R-Rohan?” She’s confused and frightened, and she’s looking at me to make it all better, so that I can save her.

But in a moment, she’ll hate me.

Forgive me, Little Whisperer.

“What’s going on?” She whimpers, panic in her eyes, and a deep sadness. “Rohan, there was a fire at the clan, and Asseya… Asseya wasn’t moving and…”

My heart stops.

Asseya is no more?

“I don’t u-understand.” She hiccups. “Rohan— ow.”

I step forward until the end of a sword is at my own throat by a guard, but I look to the one who has hold of Alara.

“Hurt her again and I will show you what your insides look like while you’re still alive.” The guard pales, but he tries to be brave and holds my gaze until it flits away.

“Hold her still, Declan. Shall I explain?” King Halen asks. “Of course I will, because that is what a good king does.” He stands. “Rohan here made a deal with me after the last Games. He was to provide me with something and The Games would end. Understand?”

“Y-es.”

“Good. Now you see, he had what I wanted, but then he decided not to give it to me and lie. That’s not very nice is it?”

“I’m not… sure,” she whimpers, more blood spilling down her neck. “W-what was he supposed to give y-you?”

King Halen’s smile is evil as he says the one thing I never wanted her to know.

“You.”

She blinks.

“W-what?” she asks, eyes coming to me. “Rohan? What’s he talking about?”

“I needed an elf, you see,” he continues as I lock eyes with Alara. “And as much as my army has tried to capture one alive at the border, I’ve been unsuccessful.”

The more King Halen talks, the more I can see her eyes begin to dim, the light fading. Hurt and betrayal showing itself as silent tears drop from her eyes.

“Rohan here promised he could acquire me one before the next Games. You never belonged to him, you belong to me. And now it is the next Games, and he refused to give me you. That calls for many punishments, don’t you think?”

“Is that true?” Alara asks, her voice wavering.

“I didn’t—”

“You... you took me just to give me to him?”

“Wait, I—”

“You weren’t going to keep me?”

Her voice is full of hurt, and I’ve never hated myself more than this moment for putting that look on her face.

“It wasn’t real, was it?” she cries, body shaking. “You made this deal to get rid of me.”

“Let me explain,” I plead.

“You lied,” she croaks out, tears streaming down her face, “You made me fall for you, and you lied .”

“I—”

I see it, the moment she breaks, the moment she closes herself off from me and I know I’ve lost her.

Fuck.

“She fell for you?” King Halen laughs, and Alara is sobbing now, and I want nothing more than to go over to her and hold her, to take her to safety.

I ignore King Halen.

“Little Whisperer…”

“Oh, you have a little name for her? Should I borrow it?” he moves toward her and I explode.

“Don’t touch her!”

The king pauses and raises an eyebrow at me before looking between us, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“I see,” he murmurs.

He walks toward me then, his steps sure and full of confidence he wouldn’t have if it were just him and I in the room.

“You want to keep her safe? You do as I say.”

“I will kill you,” I growl, violence dripping with every word. “With my bare fucking hands, I’ll kill you.”

I see fear creep into his dark eyes before he flicks his hand. Alara cries out, and I grind my teeth, clenching my hand around my axe.

“Drop it, and she won’t get hurt.”

I growl.

Alara cries out again, I squeeze my eyes shut before I slowly peel my fingers from the hilt, and my axe drops to the floor.

“Good.” King Halen is all smiles of satisfaction as I burn within. “Now, you will listen to what I say or she gets hurt, well, how about we say, less hurt? Do you understand?”

I look at Alara. The guard has his hands around her neck now, and she doesn’t even try to remove them as he chokes her.

I should have left her in The Pit that day. I should have flown back over the Elven lands to try and find an elf, anyone but fucking her.

She deserves to feel safe enough to bring out the softness in her without fear, to not be constantly in a state of survival. I’ll be her constant safety, and she’ll learn to bite with me at her back, and rest in my arms of strength.

I just need to get her out of here.

“I said, you will do as I say, or she will be hurt for every time you disobey me,” King Halen growls.

I have to keep her safe.

“And you and her will then be taken to the dungeons while we organize The Games for the very last time.”

I just need to get her away from him.

“Then you and the little elf will join,” He pauses. “Maybe.”

I’ll kill him.

“Do you understand, Rohan?” the king barks, his face red as I continue to ignore him in front of his guards.

I reluctantly peel my eyes away from Alara.

“Yes.”

“Oh no,” he murmurs, his smile slimy as he steps toward me. “You can do better than that this time. You know exactly what I want.”

I take a breath and calm myself.

For her, I will do something I swore I would never do.

So I claw the words from my chest.

“I understand clearly, Father.”

“Good,” he turns, heading back to his throne. “Now, let The Games begin.”