Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Watching him now, his ferocity struck me anew. This man was beautiful in a way that hurt. And resilient. But most of all… haunted. A warrior forged in fire—like me. In another life, we probably would’ve been friends. If not much, much more.
Maybe I’d made a noise. Or perhaps he was just attuned to me. Whatever it was, he stopped, axe midair, his gaze zooming to me.
“You’re awake,” he said, lowering the weapon.
I tried to speak, but my throat hadn’t yet finished repairing itself. I tried to smile next, wishing with every fiber of my being that the pull between us had lessened. Instead, it had only deepened, growing roots in my marrow. Though I wanted so badly to rise, to walk to him and hold him, if only to soothe the boy he’d been, exhaustion won, and sleep pulled me under its tide again, merciful and merciless all at once.
When next I woke, everything had changed. I lay draped over a furnace of velvet flesh and hard strength, wrapped in Taron’s pine and cedar scent. Mmm. I stretched lazily—and the bed shifted.
I froze, my lids flying open. Stars blinked above me in an ink-dark sky. A fire crackled nearby, flames casting amber light over me…and the man beside me.
Gasping, I lifted my head. Taron lay still, watching me. His gaze wasn’t cold. It burned.
“Hello,” I rasped.
“You are healed?”
“I am.”
“Good.” He rolled me beneath him in one swift motion, caging me with his body.
His heavier weight pressed me down, solid and unyielding. I could have bucked him off, but I didn’t want to. No, I melted into him, every nerve sparking.
His expression was fierce and storm-dark as he intoned, “Before, you asked what other memories I’d seen. I dreamed of Leopold’s death. I felt your heart break as he burned. Witnessed the way you held what remained of him afterward, like he should wake at any moment. How you wept as the wind stole his ash.” His voice cracked, a fragile edge to it. “I felt your shame. Your guilt. How it never let you go.”
My throat closed. He’d seen the worst of my memories. The one I’d tried to bury so deep a thousand times. “I dreamed of your father’s death.” My voice was barely a whisper. If we were going to do this, spill secrets in the dark, I might as well do it right and hide nothing. “You were there. Watching. And I... I became the monster in your nightmares.”
Silence stretched, heavy and unforgiving. We stared at each other through the aching void.
“I saw what you did when you got home,” he said, softer now. “You locked yourself in the catacombs, deprived of sound and light. There, you cried so quietly. Like someone who didn’t believe she deserved to mourn.”
That did it. I broke our stare, turning my head and blinking fast. That moment, so raw and shameful, rose in my chest like a bruise.
Taron cupped my jaw with a hand hot enough to brand. Gently, he urged my face back to his.
No condemnation burned in his expression, just compassion and something dangerously tender. “We’ve both been through terrible things,” he said, voice thick. His thumb brushed my cheek, a feather-light touch that scorched me anyway. “But this... whatever this is between us... it’s not going away.”
My hands reached for him before I could stop them, gripping his shoulders. My nails sank into his warm skin. “If you even think about suggesting we sleep together to get it out of our systems, I will rearrange your internal organs.”
His lips twitched. “How dare you? I’m a gentleman of honor.” Then his gaze dipped to my mouth and lingered there. “No out of our systems sex. But maybe we can be... not enemies. Today, tomorrow, and after the bond breaks.”
Not enemies. I licked my lips, my heart stuttering. Beyond any doubt, this fragile thing between us would shatter once the bond broke. I knew that. But even still... hope curled tight in my chest, and I nodded.
“Not enemies,” I whispered.
For now, it was enough.
Chapter
Twelve
Never laugh at a human. Unless they trip. Then it’s allowed.
-Humaning for Beginners: A Dragon’s Tale of Human Management
The next morning, Taron and I prepared for the last leg of our quest in silence. Tension swirled around us, but it was a wildly contradictory and worryingly different kind of tension than before. Awkward but comfortable. Sharp, yet softer than before. Mostly it sizzled. My awareness of him heightened, leaving me restless and torn. I fought the urge to step closer, knowing the danger of giving in.
After cleaning up in a nearby pond, I took a selfie with the Sunsong Crystal and the flower to send to Adelaide. Or tried to. I couldn’t hold the camera and both items while taking a proper proof of life photo.
Taron watched, his lips twitching at the corners again, in a way I was coming to really, really dig. “Let me help you.” He held out his hand, requesting the camera, which I gave after a beat of hesitation.