Page 32 of Wild Flame (Wild Bond #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

T he silence was deafening for most of the ride that first day. Malik only spoke to me when it was absolutely necessary. Even as I sat before him, pressed back against his hard chest, neither of us said a word. I was angry and hurt, even if I now regretted what I had accused him of. Malik was seething. Even Azrun seemed to be angry earlier as I climbed up into the saddle with Malik’s stony assistance. Poor Taj had tried to start a conversation several times once we stopped to make camp last night but eventually had given up when he got little response.

In fact, it was only in the late afternoon on the second day when the sun had finally begun to lower in the sky, disappearing behind the dunes beneath us, that Malik finally spoke.

“How can you think that of me? It is as if you don’t know me at all.” His voice was agitated. The words burst from him as if he couldn’t contain them anymore.

It had been quiet for so long, with only the sound of the wind flowing past my ears, that his voice startled me. But I recovered quickly as his statement brought my own anger back to the fore.

“Apparently I don’t,” I retorted. “I had to find out you and Priya were lovers by overhearing it.” I didn’t mean for it all to come out sounding so sharp, but maybe I was feeling a little more vulnerable than I thought. I shifted in the saddle. Even though I knew my husband wasn’t an innocent like me . . . I had just never thought he had been with her like that, and I hated it.

He sighed. “I should have told you about Priya. But I assumed you knew or had guessed our history, and I saw no point in bringing up the past.”

“Please do,” I countered. “You tell me so little of yourself.”

“As you tell me so much of yourself?” he challenged, his frustration bleeding through. “I’ve had to claw and scrape and coax every little scrap of information from you. You volunteer nothing.” His fist clenched where it rested against his thigh. “I thought after our night on the rooftop . . . and that kiss in the courtyard before I left . . .” He trailed off, and I felt his broad chest expand behind me with a sigh. “All I have ever wanted was to know you, to learn about you. Ever since I first heard your beautiful voice in that garden . . . but you refuse to let me in.”

Unwittingly, my heart clenched at his admission. I opened my mouth, but when no words came, I closed it again. I sensed his disappointment. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the words out. There was so much I wanted to say. I was still mad at him, but I also knew he was right. I wanted to apologize for so many things. But I couldn’t make myself speak.

Not even as silence fell once more between us, and we eventually landed and made camp.

Taj had chosen a spot near a craggy rock formation that was nearly as big as a dragon, with a small cave mouth at its center. He told me the dragons checked it out and found nothing save for the faint scent of some other creature, but it was old. Bhorag, Taj’s dragon, his scales a reddish-brown hue, lit a fire for us as we ate bread and dried meat from the saddlebags. It got surprisingly chilly out in the open desert at night, so I laid my pallet down as near the fire as I dared. The first night I had placed it far away from the fire and, without a word, Malik had moved it closer to his. Then he had pulled me down and lay protectively between me and the fire. I had wanted to complain, but I was chilled, and he was so warm that I didn’t resist. Apparently, the same would be happening tonight. Once I lay down, he did so moments later and spooned me from behind, one of his big arms encircling my waist and making my stomach flutter. I tamped that reaction down immediately.

I also tried not to let his consideration for my comfort—even when he was angry—affect me.

The two dragons had settled down on either side of the rock formation, encircling us like a living wall.

Taj seemed to fall asleep instantly on the other side of the fire, safe in the knowledge that the dragons would alert us to any danger. With their superior hearing and senses, nothing would take us unawares while we slept.

An hour passed, and I couldn’t fall asleep. I knew Malik wasn’t asleep either because his breathing hadn’t changed.

My mind wouldn’t quiet. Malik’s words from earlier kept playing through my head. All I have ever wanted was to know you . . . But you refuse to let me in. He was right. I hadn’t shared much with him.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t reveal everything to him. I didn’t know if I could ever admit that I was—or had been—a part of The Order. Let alone what I had almost done to Zara. The shame of it would eat me alive if he ever knew. The look on his face. There was also the gnawing fear he wouldn’t forgive me. I would lose his touch, that warmth in his eyes whenever he looked at me. He could have me executed or exiled—to become husband and wife, but in name only. And telling Zara . . . I shuddered at the thought.

No. I could never tell him about that part of my past . . . but maybe, maybe there was another part of my past I could give him.

I glanced over to see if Taj was still asleep. I hoped he was. His back was to us, and he hadn’t moved in some time.

Taking a deep breath, I spoke into the quiet. “You asked me how I got my scars . . .”

Malik made no sound, but he went very still behind me, and I could feel he was listening.

My voice was slightly shaky as I continued, “They’re burns . . . from a dragon. A wild dragon. When I was eleven.”

It was quiet for several heartbeats, and then his arm clenched around me as if telling me to go on.

I swallowed. “When I was young, I wanted to be a dragon rider more than anything. I know most children do, but I not only wanted to be one, I needed to be. If I wanted any of my parents’ attention, I needed to be more—special. My parents weren’t unfeeling towards me then, but they doted on my sister. She was the oldest and the heir, so it was to be expected. And she was also much more adventurous and outgoing. Everyone loved Helene. I was much more quiet and cautious by nature, and when I was young, I was painfully shy and timid. My mother once told me she should have taken our birth as a warning of what we would be. When she went into labor, Helene came within an hour, squalling and demanding to be heard, but I took several and finally came in my own time. It was a difficult birth—nearly fatal to my mother—and the healer told her she would most likely not be able to bear any more children as a result.” I had always thought that it was part of the reason my mother despised me so. But I didn’t say that aloud.

“Each year, Helene and I were presented to the unbonded dragons, and finally, at eleven, almost the moment she stepped into the Nest, Helene bonded Nova. My parents were so proud, and I was so excited for her. Envious as well, but excited. I was sure I would bond as well, but when the time came and I was presented to the dragons, nothing happened. My parents were furious and disappointed with me."

Malik's scoff was soft in the quiet night. “That was hardly your fault. Bonding at the age of eleven would have been rare indeed.”

He spoke the truth. Hardly anyone bonded with a dragon at that age—it was usually much younger, and definitely not past puberty. The only exceptions I knew of were Queen Lethara herself, and well . . . Rin.

“They didn’t see it that way,” I whispered. “And neither did I at the time. I couldn't bear the thought of not being a rider like Helene, like my father. I was so crushed that I had fallen short again. There was still one day left of the bonding celebrations, and I knew the wild dragons would still be there. So that night, I decided I would sneak out and go to the Nest. I was convinced that if I stood before the dragons again, one of them would bond me . . . So that’s what I did. I snuck out of the castle and into the Nest.” Malik let out a low curse, but I didn’t stop speaking. I knew if I did, that I would lose my courage to finish the story. “What I didn’t know at the time was that Helene followed me. I startled the dragons, and one reacted. Nova blocked the brunt of the blast, but . . . both of us were still injured by the flames.”

What I didn’t tell Malik was just how badly Helene was injured; how close she had been to death—how close we both were. Nor the bargain I had struck with the gods—one god in particular—to keep her alive. Likewise, I didn’t explain about the significance of the talisman I carried—though I had seen him notice me reaching for it on multiple occasions—or the role it played that night as well.

“I don’t remember much after that. I was in and out of consciousness due to the pain,” I said aloud, remembering how truly miserable it had been and how I had just wanted relief, anything to make it stop. “We were eventually discovered and brought back to the castle. My memory is faulty from that time. Helene healed quickly due to her rider blood, while I was left to heal naturally. There was only so much that could be done for burns inflicted with dragon fire, and my mother only allowed the healers to do the bare minimum to help me. She claimed I deserved my pain and any scaring for my stupidity in nearly getting Helene killed.”

“Curse the Nine, siren!” Malik hissed, seething fury lacing his every word. “You were a child. Yes, you made a poor decision. But you were still a child. That woman should be drawn over burning coals for allowing you to suffer in such a manner.”

I didn’t contradict him. And I didn’t comment on the fact that he had just called me siren again, though it made my heart warm.

It was silent for a moment. “What happened after?” he finally asked.

I shrugged. “It was months before I could do anything but lie on my stomach. The pain was such that for a while after that, I needed a cane to walk or stand upright.”

Again, silence reigned as I tried not to think of all those endless days of Helene and Nova keeping me company and trying to entertain me while I healed. I knew Helene had felt guilty for recovering fully when I hadn’t. She blamed herself, but she shouldn’t have. It was my fault.

Pushing the thoughts back to the shadowed crevices of my past where they belonged, I rolled to my back so that I could look into his eyes.

He stared down at me, his gaze fathomless in the darkness. The only light was the smoldering fire and the stars overhead. “I’m sorry for what you endured. A child should not bear the weight of so much.” His fingers rose to stroke my cheek and comb back a strand of hair from my face.

“It’s in the past,” I said.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said after another weighted moment. “For letting down your walls for me.” His lips quirked. “I know sharing is not easy for you.”

I rolled my eyes, and he chuckled.

I grasped his hand where it now cupped my cheek. “I’m sorry for . . . for what I said. For what I accused you of.” I released a breath. “I want you to know that I do not think that of you. You are not that kind of man. It was wrong of me.” I glanced away. “Yesh explained things. And I am trying to learn your ways, I really am, but this is all new to me and I was just surprised and jealous and hurt and—”

His warm lips silenced me as they claimed mine in a slow dance that had me melting into the pallet and the sand beneath me.

When he finally let me up for air, I grinned breathlessly up at him. “Am I forgiven, then?”

A flash of white in the darkness. “Yes, you are forgiven. And given what you’ve shared, it is only fair—"

Azrun and Bhorag growled simultaneously. Both of their massive heads jerked up and toward the cave opening. Malik was on his feet in an instant and so was Taj, both with their sai blades drawn.

“What is it?” I asked, scrambling to my feet behind Malik.

“The dragons heard—”

Before he could finish speaking, a loud scuttling and chittering sound reached our ears.

Seconds later, a wave of giant scorpions burst out of the cave, swarming out of the opening like a plague. They scattered in all directions. The eight-legged creatures had to be about two feet long, each with a pair of grasping pincers and a narrow, segmented tail curving forward over their backs with a wicked-looking stinger on the end.

“Black scorpions,” Taj cursed. “Watch out! They’re venomous!”

Azrun and Bhorag both let out streams of dragon flame and began melting the creatures into the sand. The sudden light was blinding in the darkness. I flinched away from the heat, trying not to listen as the creatures hissed and screeched as they died.

If that weren’t enough, a roar shuddered through the air. Another quickly followed as a half dozen dark shapes emerged from the cave opening. From the light of the flames, I could just make out the creatures, and my stomach dropped. Each of them was the size of a bear, though their bodies were more feline, with four legs and claws, solid muscular shoulders and a mane surrounding their heads. Snarling fanged mouths gaped open, while sharp spindled spikes lined their backs, culminating in a vicious-looking scorpion tail. This must have been what had the scorpion nest so spooked. They were fleeing these creatures.

Malik cursed. “A manticore pack.”

Manticores? I had only ever read about them in books, since they were native to Zehvi. Next to dragons and griffins, they were some of the deadliest creatures in Palasia, and one of the reasons many travelers skirted the Daazi Desert altogether.

Malik slashed at a scorpion as it reached us and sliced it in half. Several of the manticores leapt over the smoldering pile of scorpions and lithely dodged the breath of flame Bhorag launched in their direction. The speed and agility of the beasts was terrifying as they spread out. One leapt right at Taj. He deflected with his blade and rolled out of its way. The animal regrouped quickly, kicking up sand as it charged him again.

Two of the other manticores got under Bhorag’s guard and used their powerful claws to climb up his body. One reached his back and went for his wing, one of the only vulnerable places on a dragon. Bhorag let out a bellowing roar and arched his serpentine neck around, snatching the manticore between his fanged jaws with a sickening crunch.

The manticore went limp, and Bhorag hurled its dead body into the one attacking Taj, knocking it to the ground.

Malik engaged another with his sword while Azrun was breathing fire directly into the mouth of the cave to cut them off at their source; all while keeping a pair of the feline creatures away with swipes of his long tail.

I couldn’t help thinking that if not for me and their riders, the dragons could simply burn them all to a crisp and be done with it.

With all of them occupied, I spun and dashed towards Malik’s saddlebags where a second blade was strapped. I tried to ignore the crackling sound of the flames behind me and the panic starting to build in my chest, telling me to flee, to hide, to get away. It will be fine , I told myself. These dragons weren’t going to hurt me, and fire was honestly the least of my problems at the moment.

Pulling the sword free, the weight of it felt strange in my hand. I wasn’t used to this type of weapon, and it was heavier than was practical for me since it was meant for Malik’s hand, but it would have to do.

I turned just as a scorpion that had gotten past Azrun scuttled towards me. I stomped down on the thing’s back and sliced off its stinger before cutting it in half. A yellow liquid oozed out, and I grimaced as I stepped back, suddenly grateful for the boots rather than sandals Malik had insisted upon at the start of this journey.

I glanced up, intending to help Malik, when a menacing growl sounded behind me. I had thought all the manticores were engaged elsewhere, but apparently not.

I dropped to the ground on instinct.

Fear and adrenaline lanced through me as the large creature’s body passed right over me, missing me by inches.

I shot to my feet, swiping sand from my eyes as I faced the beast. It was even more terrifying up close. It snapped its jaws together with a raging snarl, and to my horror, I noted it had three rows of sharp teeth.

Its lethal tail whipped from side to side before it lashed out.

I barely got my sword up in time, the hit jarring painfully up my arm as the manticore hissed.

“Leida!” Malik yelled. Then he was there. He slashed his blade downward and cut off the end of its tail.

The manticore roared in pain and spun to face the new threat. The manticore Malik had been fighting was dead on the ground behind him. Malik engaged the creature, dodging and striking with lethal grace. The beast got in a vicious scratch to his ribs, and I gasped, worry for him racing through me, even as I knew he was probably already healing, thanks to his rider blood.

The manticore lunged for me, but Malik was faster and plunged his sword deep into its side. The manticore screamed and thrashed its tail. Several of the long spikes dislodged from the tail and shot straight at me.

I ducked, the spikes narrowly missing me.

Unfortunately, I lost my footing and tripped over something. A pair of scorpions. Rolling away from their clacking pincers, I slashed out with the blade I still held, coming up on one knee. I killed first one, then the other.

Several more scorpions darted toward Malik, and I moved to protect his back while he dealt with the injured manticore. I skirted around the two I had just dispatched and began killing any scorpion that came close.

I looked over to see how Taj was faring just as another manticore snuck up on him as he fought. I opened my mouth to warn him when in perfect sync Taj ducked and Bhorag swung his giant tail and whipped the manticore into the rocks as it leapt. A piece of the rock crumbled, and the beast fell to the ground, unmoving.

I turned back as another of the nasty creatures darted for me. I barely got my sword up in time to keep it from stinging me.

Then large crimson scales blocked my vision. I blinked as Azrun lowered his giant head over me and blasted the scorpions with flames.

When it was done, he turned his massive head towards me.

I placed a hand on his neck. “Thank you,” I told him.

I surveyed our camp and realized we had won. Azrun had just crisped the last of the black scorpions, the manticore pack was dead, and Taj and Malik were wiping gore from their weapons, while Bhorag sniffed at the cave mouth.

I dropped my sword in relief. Thank the Nine we—

Azrun’s head suddenly jerked towards his rider, and he released a cry. At the same time, I heard Taj scream Malik’s name.

I looked over and saw to my horror that Malik had crumpled to the ground.

“Malik!” I yelled, my exhaustion from the fight forgotten as I ran over to him and dropped to the sand next to him.

Taj was already kneeling by his side and Azrun and Bhorag’s heads floated above us. Malik’s eyes were open, but they were glazed and unseeing.

“What happened?”

Taj shook his head. “He seemed fine and then . . .” he trailed off.

“I feel . . . numb,” Malik mumbled, staring up at the night. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went limp.

Azrun let out a blistering roar as fear sliced through me. What was the matter with him?

Before Taj or I could even react, Bhorag leaned forward, and his snout sniffed at Malik’s side.

Then I remembered and turned to Taj. “He was scratched by a manticore earlier.”

He met my stare. “They have venom in their claws.”

“But he’s a rider. Shouldn’t he be healing? Why is it affecting him so strongly?”

“No doubt his body is trying to heal itself, but manticore venom is powerful and lethal.”

Taj rose to his feet. “Let’s go. There’s a nobleman who lives nearby. His wife is a gifted healer. She might be able to help.”

We wasted no time as Bhorag bent down and we hoisted Malik into the saddle, Taj settling behind him. I climbed onto Azrun’s back and strapped myself in. The dragon was tense, and I could sense his anxiety over his injured rider. I placed a comforting hand on his massive neck.

“He’ll be fine,” I murmured, reassuring myself as much as him.

Azrun rumbled in response as both dragons took to the sky.