Page 40 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

Chapter Twenty-nine

Cayden

The forest is quiet, Elowen’s breathing even more so.

I’ve spent the last two hours in this freezing river, clutching her body to mine and counting her breaths.

Ophir said I’d probably be able to step out of the river as long as I kept my hands on Elowen, but I can’t let her suffer alone.

I sent the others back to the house after Asena said it might help if I spoke to Elowen while she’s in this state.

She can’t hear me, but she might be able to feel me.

I’d never be able to speak to Elowen about anything deeper than the weather if others were listening.

She’s deathly still in my arms with only the whites of her eyes visible and her hair floating around her.

It’s unnerving. The fire Asena lit is dying, and I won’t risk removing my hands.

I need to get Elowen inside. My head jerks up when I hear Basilius roar in the distance, close enough to be over the border.

“Elowen,” I murmur, my voice strained from the cold. “Wake up.”

Nothing.

Not even a twitch of her fingers.

“Elowen.” I shake her in my arms a bit. “ Wake up. ”

Panic begins to claw its way up my throat like a beast threatening to breach the surface and overtake me.

She looks dead. There is no warmth to her, no vibrancy.

I lock my eyes on her steady, albeit slow, pulse.

Gods, I can hardly look at her. This ritual is fucking with my head by shoving the image of what chases me from sleep most nights in my face.

“Elowen!”

I hiss when her limbs thrash, splashing my arms and chest with water. Her brown eyes are back, soaking in the sights around us as she reaches up to clutch her forehead. “Are you all right?”

She looks up at me, pressing her hands into her face, shoulders, and heaving chest as her shivers send ripples throughout the water. “Y-yes.”

I hoist her in my arms before she even finishes the word.

She continues looking around as if she’s seeing the world for the first time.

Snow crunches under my bare feet, but I can’t be any colder than I already am.

I grab her cloak from where Finnian hung it on a branch and wrap it around her shoulders, using my coat to cover her front and rush toward Koa.

Mounting him while keeping her balanced in my arms is a difficult feat but I manage.

I keep her pressed to my chest as I jostle the reins, urging Koa to sprint to the house.

My mind is filled to the brim with questions, but I force myself to save them for later. I need to get her inside and bring her body temperature back up. The wind slices into my cheeks and biceps as we ride, and I shove her face into the crook of my neck.

I dismount once we make it back, and the back door slams against the wall when I shove our way through. A staggering breath of relief rushes from my chest as the warmth wafting through the house surrounds me. The servants must have all the fires burning.

“Is there anything you need, Your Highness?” Cyrus asks, rushing into the hall and practically running to keep up with my steps. “I’ve already lit a fire in your chambers.”

“Send soup and tea up,” I respond without turning. “Thank you.”

Saskia, Ryder, and Finnian spring off the steps when they see us, and Asena and Ophir turn away from the window.

“What did she see?” Saskia asks.

“Not now.” My tone is final, and though Ryder and Saskia have pushed me on a few occasions over the years, they know when not to cross that line. “I have her, and she will give you a report when she’s ready.”

“Is she okay?” Finnian calls out.

“She will be once she rests.”

I kick the door to our chambers shut and set her down in front of the fire, tugging the soaked slip up her body and tossing it aside.

I do the same with my pants and return to her with several thick blankets.

She presses herself into me, sitting between my covered legs as I wrap another around her shoulders.

I messily pile her hair on top of her head to get it off her back and secure it with the leather strap I always wear around my wrist in case she ever needs it.

She keeps looking around the room like she’s trying to reorient herself with reality, still not entirely in her own mind.

I’m sure it’ll get easier the more she utilizes her abilities, but the first time must be the worst. I’d be in awe of her if the image of her white eyes and unresponsive body in my arms hadn’t brought my worst fear into reality.

Her wide eyes are locked on my face, looking at me like I’m the only real thing in the world. There’s a desperation I’ve never seen laced within her gaze.

“You’re back with me, sirantia. You’re home,” I murmur, rubbing my hands along her arms.

Her shivering begins to calm down, but she still trembles slightly as she reaches forward, pressing the tip of her finger into the top of the scar on my face, slowly dragging it down before repeating the motion three times.

Nobody has ever touched me like she does.

I’d cut their hand off if they tried. She sags against me and presses her forehead to my shoulder, nuzzling into my neck.

I place my fingers against her pulse, keeping an arm banded around her as I watch the flames consume the log. Elowen possesses magic. I’m not surprised, considering she shares a bond with five dragons, but I’m curious to know what other abilities she may have.

“How bad does my hair look?” she mumbles.

I chuckle. “ That’s what you’re worried about?”

“My hair is very important to me.”

“It looks like you threw out your comb five years ago and never bought a new one.”

She groans. “I’m calling off the wedding.”

“Good luck with that.”

We return to silence while watching the fire.

Cyrus and another servant carry up trays filled with what I requested along with several sweet options for dessert.

They’re trying to charm Elowen, and from the way she smiles softly while looking at the spread, I’d say it’s working.

We polish everything off, and when I’m sure her body temperature has risen enough to get into a bath, I hoist her in my arms.

I don’t make the water too hot, just in case the normal boiling temperature she bathes in is too much for her to handle right now, and settle her between my legs. “What did you see?”

Her chest presses into mine as she continues resting her head on my shoulder, still tracing the scars on my chest and arms. She touches me like every detail of me is worthy of being remembered.

I’ve been deprived of her body for weeks, and having her pressed against me is an addictive kind of torture.

Thoughts of her plague my mind like a curse I never wish to be freed from.

“Wyverns.” She matches my quiet tone. “They’ll be bringing the battle to the skies it seems.”

My hands tighten on her hips. “Training with a bow and arrow could be beneficial. We don’t know if they’ll have riders.”

She huffs. “I hate that weapon. I’ll be fine with my knives.”

I tuck my tongue into my cheek, not responding to her statement, opting to untie her curls and begin washing them. She moans when my soapy fingers massage her roots, sending a wave of want through me. I suck in a slow breath, forcing myself to think of strategy and not what she looks like under me.

Finnian is a skilled archer, and I don’t doubt he’s tried to train her over the years.

I’ll need to think of something different, but she’ll need something with more power behind it than just a throw.

Thank the fucking gods wyverns don’t breathe fire or else we’d be having a much more heated conversation.

“How do they have wyverns?” she asks. “Where did they come from?”

“I once read about a mage from Thirwen who lived about one hundred years ago. Some say that she used necromancy to raise two wyverns from the dead, but others say she captured them in the wild, though they were believed to be extinct at the time. She kept them in cages, forcing them to breed, and then forced the hatchlings to breed when they came of age. It was a deplorable and cruel practice, and the wyverns were controlled by mind magic. They were never let out of their cages while having free will. That’s why the world held its breath when it was revealed you have a soul bond to your dragons. Nobody has ever possessed your power.”

“That’s terrible.” When Elowen mounts her dragons and kills the wyverns she faces, their death will be a mercy to the beasts. “I just…I can’t think about that right now knowing what I’ll have to do during the battles. What did you find earlier in Xantheus’s office?”

“Thirwen is sending more naval reinforcements than I anticipated,” I say. “I sent orders for a chain of scouts to keep watch along the coast. We’ll be alerted when each of them lights their beacons.”

“I hope we hear from Galakin soon.” I clench my jaw. I’ll find a way to manipulate Galakin into this war if they don’t come willingly. She pushes away from my chest to meet my eyes. “I’m assuming you have a plan of attack?”

“Always. I also forged the letter so we can use it to charge Xantheus with treason since he didn’t report an enemy’s movements to his rulers.”

“I’ll be glad when he dies.” Her eyelids are heavy with exhaustion as she falls forward again, and I suck in a breath through my teeth when her hand glides over the head of my cock. She laughs softly. “I won’t bed you before my wedding. I’m a lady.”

“Oh, yes,” I mutter. “A lady of the night.”

She lightly smacks the back of my head and climbs out of the tub while wrapping herself in a towel, swaying her hips as she walks into the bedchamber. I chuckle under my breath as I finish up in the bath before following her path. I’m surprised to find her already fast asleep when I slide into bed.

The fire from the hearth dances over her features, making it impossible to tear my eyes away as I lie on my side to face her.

When I look at her, it’s like I know what it is to see my heart beating outside of my body.

I twirl one of her damp curls around the finger that now has her name inked onto it.

After living on the streets, not even being in a house could fully eliminate the cold within me. Not until I met Elowen and had her in my grasp. Love is supposed to be something light and beautiful and pure, but what I feel for the woman sleeping beside me could lay waste to armies and end worlds.

I’ve never cared about anyone like this, never wanted or had the urge to.

It feels as if I’ve never truly seen anyone now that I see her everywhere.

I know this path is dangerous, and yet I can’t stop following it.

She makes a noise of irritation, scrunching her nose a bit as she blinks her bleary eyes open, wrapping herself around me without saying a word.

Gods, I’m fucked.

I’m well and truly fucked.