Page 127 of Fear the Flames
Is Cayden courting me?
The question sounds trivial in comparison to everything that has happened between us. I don’t think a courtly label can define exactly what we are, even I don’t know a word for it. I just know I want him around me and that I feel it when he’s not. Everything feels emptier without him. I wash the rest of the soap from my body and rise from the tub, grabbing a cotton towel from a rack, and walking over to the mirror. My hands scrunch the water from my hair with a different towel and let it hang loose around me since I don’t have the energy to braid it.
Two sets of clothes rest on a table by the door; the green sweater and black cotton pants I’ve come to favor over the past few weeks are a welcomed sight. Finnian must have grabbed them for me on his way here. Cayden’s clothes are too comfortable to resist. The sweater reaches my mid-thighs, and the black pants pool around my ankles. I look ridiculous, but I feel so cozy. I pick up my leathers and put them in the hamper before rejoining the group.
Their laughter makes my heart soar; we really made it. Finnian and Cayden are back, and the savory scent of herb-encrusted meats, seasoned vegetables, and potatoes drifts through the air, practically carrying me back to my seat at the table. A plate is already piled high with food for me. Cayden glances at me while I take my seat next to him, sliding his hand onto my thigh while fisting a pint of ale. The fluttery feeling appears in my chest again.
“How did you know we would be coming back through the very end of the border?” I ask while stabbing into my meat. I sense the mood in the room shift and look up from my plate.
“We heard the dragons and saw them fly into the sky while we were sailing down the canal. We knew you’d either be dead or forced to flee the castle from that room. There’s no way you could’ve gotten back through the door of the dragon chamber,” Saskia says with a grim smile. She hesitates for a moment, “What happened with the dragons?” Finnian bounces his leg anxiously under the table, and Ryder sits forward, obviously intrigued. Cayden continues to rub soothing circles on my thigh. I swallow the potatoes in my mouth before starting.
“The amulet destroyed their chains; Garrick must have had a mage or warlock enchant them. The dragons weren’t happy at first,” I remark, pointing toward my ribs, “bruises from their tails.” I ignore the guilt that turns my stomach as I recall the memory. “They remember me; if they didn’t, then they would have killed me.” Cayden’s thumb pauses briefly before resuming his usual strokes. I stab into my vegetables and bring them to my mouth. I may be uncomfortable with the conversation, but I’m not too uncomfortable to eat. “Cayden blew up a wall!” I excitedly state after swallowing.
“You blew up a wall?” Saskia and Ryder ask simultaneously. The latter looked elated.
“That’s my boy,” Ryder slaps Cayden on the shoulder.
Cayden shrugs, “As if you think I would go in there without a backup plan.”
“Your backup plans have never been bombs,” Saskia laughs.
“I’m a firm believer in widening my skill set to be as lethal as possible,” Cayden smirks. I shouldn’t find that attractive. Why do I find that attractive?
“Did you feel anything through the bond?” Finnian tentatively inquires.
I pause my glass of cider halfway to my lips, nodding. I take a long drag to help loosen my nerves. “They obeyed my command,” I softly state. Someone’s fork clatters on their plate. “I don’t know how it happened. I don’t even think I called on the bond; it was just there.”
“How did it start?” Cayden asks. I realize he never asked me specifics about the dragon bond at the inn. He just let me vent about my emotions and what I felt when I saw them again. Sometimes, subtle kindness is the most beautiful form of it. He always lets me talk, he makes me feel like I’m heard, but he never pushes for details I’m unwilling to give.
“Every dragon has different color eyes—blue, orange, purple, black, and red. I excused myself from the dinner a few weeks ago because I saw a pair of orange eyes when I kept repeating that I would find my way back to the dragons in my mind. I still don’t know what that means, but it was the first interaction I had with the bond since I left Imirath. Soldiers were gaining on us when we were running through the mountains, coming at us on horseback and firing arrows in our direction. I just kept thinking of fire, of the soldiers burning behind us, and how much easier it would be for us to stay hidden if we had a head start. I kept seeing two pairs of eyes, blue and orange, flash in my mind. When the bond felt overpowering, I shoutedburn them all,and the dragons obeyed. It’s like I think something about them, and they appear.” I take another sip of my cider; my hand shakes slightly as I bring the glass to my lips. It’s weird to talk so openly about the dragons. Ailliard never wanted to discuss them. It was always a sore spot after my mother died, but I never knew Isira. Just because my parents gave me life doesn’t entitle them to my love or loyalty.
“Elowen,” Ryder blows out a long breath, perplexity coating his features, “I think I speak for all of Vareveth when I say I’m glad you’re not our enemy.”
“Hear! Hear!” Saskia cheers, raising her glass in the air and taking a sip of her fruity wine.
My shoulders loosen at their reactions. I like talking about it like it’s normal because it has always been my norm. It’s why I’ve always struggled with making friends other than Finnian. People see me only as the dragon link, or a queen and not a person. I love Aestilian, and I always will, but when I’m here, I don’t feel like I have to dilute myself.
We finish the rest of the meal with pleasant conversations littered with laughter. The overall agreement is to stay here tonight and travel back to the castle tomorrow morning. The tent is complete with everything we need, so there’s no sense in leaving. I don’t want to see Ailliard without resting first. He’ll probably grill me for every detail and stuff me with food until I feel like I can’t breathe. Even though we may clash, he’s always cared for me through the hard times.
My eyes start to droop, and I sharply pick my head up. Fatigue courses through me like a drug now that I’m warm, fed, and know everyone made it back alive. “I’m going to go to sleep,” I announce while standing from the table. There are four bedrooms in the tent, so I assume I’ll either be sleeping with Cayden or Finnian.
“Go to the back left room, angel,” Cayden says, kissing my knuckles.
“Hold on,” Ryder cuts in while holding a finger in the air, drawing all our attention. “Thin,” he points at me. “Walls,” he points at Cayden.
“We haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours,” Cayden levels him with a glare.
“Thin walls,” Ryder repeats, gesturing between the two of us before reclining in his seat with his ale.
“Don’t get any ideas, buddy. I get her while you bathe. She’s my girl first,” Finnian says while wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me from the table. I laugh softly, too tired to add anything, but lean further into Finnian’s body. I’ll always be his girl. He doesn’t lead me to whatever room he’s staying in; he leads me to Cayden’s.
It’s a simple room. Two dark wood bedside tables with lanterns on either side and a bed covered in simple blankets. An enchanted hearth sits in the corner of the room, blazing high and keeping the space warm. I pull the covers back and sink into the bed while cocooning myself in comfort. Finnian stays on top of the covers but takes his shoes off before reclining on the bed next to me.
I lay on my side to face him, and he does the same. I can’t remember how many nights we slept together, just like this, when our nightmares woke us up. We were just two tortured children, and the only shelter we had from the world was each other. He’s one of the main reasons I want to fight for a better world. Whenever I think of a thirteen-year-old Finnian lying next to me with tears in his big blue eyes, I make another vow to find a way to make this world better. I’ll never be perfect, I’ll never create anything perfect, but I can try to be better than the people we’ve suffered. Even now, his eyes look tortured.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
“Just soaking it in.” His eyes scan my face. “I was terrified.”
