Page 7 of Burned

“The thing is…” Apparently it’s Draydon, Arson’s wolf mate, who’s been elected to have a go next. “We can smell a human.”

“And blood,” Montrose, Valentino’s mate, says bluntly.

I wince.

“Don’t say it like that, it’s going to sound like we’re accusing him of something.” That’s Dempsey, Hemingway’s mate. I can practically see him pushing up his glasses and puffing up like a little kitten as he tries to stand up for me among the band of tactless idiots I call my family.

“Right, like Lord picked up a human snack on his way home from Judre’s and has been in there slowly devouring him for two days.” Arson snorts a laugh.

“I’mfine,” I growl again through my teeth. “I’m not devouring anyone, and I’d really prefer some goddamn peace if you all wouldn’t mind.”

Silence falls outside of my door. I so rarely utter curses, I’m sure that was enough to startle them on its own.

Eventually, I hear their footsteps fade as they all make their way out of my house, leaving me alone with my slumbering mate once again. I sigh and brush the long, blond strands of his hair off his forehead, a heavy weight settling into my chest.

“What am I going to do with you?” I murmur out loud, half hoping the sky will open up and fate herself will do me the kindness of telling me what I did to deserve this.

No such luck though. The sky stays closed and the urge to crawl into bed beside Alrick and cuddle him close while he heals remains.

I am so utterly fucked.

ALRICK

Consciousness is a funny thing.I never really appreciated it until it became a wispy, elusive thing I couldn’t quite seem to grab no matter how hard I tried. I drift in and out for an eternity. Days? Weeks? Years? I have no way of knowing. Sometimes I wake up to find the stranger—thedragon—dripping cool water onto my parched lips, other times I find him asleep in the chair beside the bed. He feeds me, and as much as I want to refuse it, I can’t. My stomach growls loudly every time the rich smell of soup tickles my nose, and as soon as my belly is full, I always fall asleep again.

I’m never awake long enough to wonder why he’s keeping me here or why he rescued me in the first place. He must have a reason, and maybe eventually my mind will be clear enough to contemplate it.

The one thing I cling to is that every time I blink awake, the pain is a little less. It’s easier to breathe and easier to move.I don’t know what’s going to happen once I’m fully healed but knowing that Iwillheal is a comfort.

I pry my eyelids open and drag in a deep, full breath, noting the way my chest expands with ease, without a hint of pain or the restriction of tight bandages wrapped around my ribs. The sun is streaming through the large windows, casting warm rays over the bed where I’m sleeping, heating my skin and pulling me fully awake. My bladder is screaming at me and my stomach twinges with emptiness as I sit up and push the blankets off.

I glance around, finding myself alone for the first time since I first woke up here. The dragon isn’t far though. I’m not sure how I know that, but I do. It’s like I can feel him somehow, feel the way the air shifts around him in space wherever he is in the house. I look down at my bare chest and stroke my fingers over my unblemished skin. My mind flashes with the memory of my flesh tearing, the sound of my ribs cracking and the smell of my own blood filling the air. My breathing speeds up and my whole body trembles involuntarily.

That dragon nearly killed me. Hedidkill me. But somehow, I’m still alive.

Lord isn’t thesamedragon, is he? I shiver at the thought.

The last thing I remember before waking up here was lying in the forest, staring up at the stars, thinking of my ancestors and wondering if a slayer who’s never made a kill would be welcomed into the warriors’ afterlife or if something else awaited me on the other side.

I close my eyes and tug on the memory. Everything is black and swirling though, muted like the world around me slipped away. And then… heat. Intense, consuming heat scorching every cell in my body inside and out. I drag in a sharp breath and sputter a cough, my throat burning at the memory.

I shift towards the edge of the bed, paying attention to every muscle in my body, gauging whether I’m as healed as I thinkI am or if it’s some kind of trick. But aside from the general sluggishness of too much sleep and the need for a good meal, I can’t remember a time I’ve felt better. My heart is beating strongly, my body feels rested and vital, and the longer I’m awake, the more lucid I feel.

It’s a good sign that whatever the dragon has been drugging me with to keep me asleep is wearing off. Did he miss a dose? Does he expect me to continue to sleep? Maybe I can use the element of surprise to my advantage. But first things first… I stand up and shuffle towards a slightly open door on the far side of the room, praying it’s a bathroom.

I let out a sigh of relief when I see that it is. I flip on the light and hurry to relieve myself, letting out a groan that would be more appropriate if I had my dick down someone’s throat rather than simply enjoying the feeling of emptying my bladder. But damn if this piss doesn’t feel better than any orgasm I’ve ever had.

When I’m finished, I wash up at the sink and rinse out my mouth since I have no clue how long it’s been since I’ve brushed my teeth. I’m gargling mouthwash when I hear the creak of a door. My whole body freezes and I spit into the sink, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. My heart hammers and I strain my ears, inching towards the bathroom door, prepared in case the dragon,Lord, bursts in. On the other side, I hear the clatter of silverware, and the smell of that damn soup makes my stomach growl loudly.

I hold on to the door handle for a minute or two, weighing my options. There aren’t any windows in the bathroom large enough for me to climb out of, and Lord obviously knows now that I’m awake and healed enough to get out of bed, so my element of surprise is gone. My choices are extremely limited, especially all alone against a dragon. My heart jumps again and I look downat myself, even though I already know I’m not wearing anything except for a pair of shorts that don’t belong to me.

My sword is gone.

Did Lord take it when he found me?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dragon slayers earn their sword on their eighteenth birthday. A special sword imbued with magic strong enough to pierce a dragon’s scales, the blade forged in cursed fire that will instantly poison a dragon when it enters them. You only get one. If you lose it… well, you justdon’t. I shudder at the thought of my dad’s disapproving glare if he knew I let a dragon take it from me.

---