Page 5 of Burned

Lord turns slightly, his face still completely devoid of reaction or emotion.

“I think I saw a mermaid in Greece when I was still a kid. She swam right in front of me and stared at me before darting off so fast I gulped a bunch of seawater in surprise.”

Lord remains neutral, but he turns to fully face me again.

“I’ve heard stories of vampires and demons. Of fae. I know for a fact dragons exist. They hide in plain sight, blending in like other humans, but they’re vicious and easily triggered. They’ll kill you for looking at them wrong.”

He flinches. “Where on earth did you hear that?”

“My family. Passed down over many generations. Dragons are to be feared and eradicated at every opportunity.” I recite the words that have been drilled into me my entire life, ignoring the way they make my stomach uneasy and my chest feel tight all over again.

Lord shrinks away from me, and as he does, pain spreads through my body so intense I’m left breathless and gasping for air.

“Oh god.” I clutch my wound, my fingers growing sticky as a gush of blood further soaks the bandages. “Fuck, it hurts.”

Lord is swift as he returns to my side. His presence is like cool water dousing the flame inside my chest, and as he moves my hand away from my wound and replaces it with his, I instantly relax, and relief pushes back the pain.

“How…?” I shake my head, still finding my voice through the haze of torture.

“You need to rest, Alrick. This is too much excitement.”

My gaze blurs as I stare at his face, but I’d swear to all the Viking gods that his eyes turn orange for a second. A smoky scent tickles my nose, but it’s comforting, like the old bonfires we had at our childhood compound before we moved east.

Lord helps me lie back and begins unwrapping my wound. “Lie still. I’ll be right back.”

My thoughts swirl with fog and I feel myself losing my grip on my life force. I try to lift my head again, but it’s too heavy, so I give up. I have to tell him to get me back to my family if I die.

“You won’t,” Lord says, suddenly by my side again.

“Won’t?”

“Die. You won’t. This will sting a little.” He dabs the gash in my chest with a liquid that reeks of the earth, but I can literally feel it working.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He’s silent as he re-bandages the wound and wipes my sweaty brow with a cool cloth. “A dragon did this to you?”

I nod, trying to take a deeper breath but unable to. “Dragon.” Consciousness is slipping away quickly. “My brothers…”

“Shh, Alrick. You’re safe here. Focus on your healing. Picture your body mending itself. It will help the process.”

With his hand on my chest, the pain fades again and my thoughts mellow. I don’t know what he is, but I know without a doubt he’s not a typical man.

“What…” I’m too weak to finish the sentence so I give up, directing my gaze to the large mural on his ceiling.

It’s a lavish scene of a room filled with treasures—art, jewels, and furnishings. In the center of the mural, a glorious dragon with dark orange scales and brilliant wings of black and orange lounges on a massive gold velvet couch.

My heartbeat grows stronger and my breath steadier. The dragon is… beautiful. Not at all like the angry beast that attacked me tonight.

Lord likes dragons?

Then a new, alarming thought enters my mind. No. Oh gods, no.

I turn my head to find him watching me, his hand still resting on my chest. “Lord?”

A slight smile pulls at his lips. “Rest now. We can talk later.”

With all my might I try to fight the wave of sleep quickly dragging me under, but it’s useless. As I finally give in, one thought bounces around my head.

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