Page 60 of Fear the Flames
“I’m fine,” I bite out, brushing past him to throw my healing satchel and cloak onto a chair in the seating area. My anger is beginning to boil inside of me now that I know he’s fine and perfectly capable of sending a letter.
“Did you ride here alone?” His voice is also hardening in anger—good. I’m glad I’m not the only one pissed off; there’s no fun in that. I take my time surveying the tent, knowing it’ll increase his annoyance. It’s more like a miniature house than a tent, equipped with everything the rooms in the castle are. “Elowen,” he commands.
I finally turn in his direction and stare him down across the space. “For someone that loves to withhold information, you sure are demanding when it comes to supplying it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He fully pivots to face me, and it feels as it did before we sparred. The both of us are constantly pushing and challenging each other.
“You wrote to me for a week. I got a letter every morning at the exact same time, and you didn’t think to write to me tonight? You could have given a messenger an urgent letter, and they would have ridden to the castle.” I cross my arms and dig my nails into my skin, trying to keep the shakiness out of my tone. My anxiety and anger are a deadly combination and course through me at the speed of a straight-shot arrow.
“I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stares me down with cold eyes.
“No, Cayden, of course it’s not necessary to tell me you’re unharmed when you don’t show up when you say you will!” I pace the floor, wanting to look anywhere other than him, the place where his idiotic brain is kept.
“You should have gone to sleep,” he argues. I shoot him my best death glare, and his lips flatten.
“People can die in a second, Cayden,” I bite back.
“Yes, which is exactly why I don’t know why you thought it was your best option to gallop, unguarded, throughout Vareveth!” His fists clench at his sides, but he still stays rooted in place, half-cloaked in darkness.
“Because I was worried, you fucking idiot!” My chest heaves and my heart beats uncontrollably. Something shudders behind his eyes. He briefly looks down before facing me again, recovering the guarded expression I rarely see past.
“Do you realize how close you’re standing to Imirath right now?” The sound of his heavy boots coming closer fills the space between us. “You don’t think that makesmeworried?”
He stops a few feet in front of me when I hold an accusatory finger in his direction. “You don’t get to lecture me on being worried. You were here, where the fighting is at its peak, for two damn weeks, and couldn’t put any specific details in a letter. I didn’t receive any news of you or from you for the first week, and still don’t even know what you did when you were gone because you never told me!”
“I don’t get to lecture you on being worried?” he incredulously echoes, letting out a bitter laugh and shaking his head. “You know why I didn’t write for the first week.”
I hold up a hand to silence him. I’m not done. “Then, the first time I saw you was when you looked like you hadn’t slept a wink the entire time you were gone, and were injured while fighting here!”
“Might I remind you that the first time I saw you after two weeks was when one of my soldiers rushed to inform me that you were drugged and attacked by three assassins!” he snaps. His arms are shaking in barely contained anger, and I suppose I look the same. “I held you in my fucking arms the entire time you were passed out so that I could keep your heart rate steady. I didn’t trust just blankets and fire; I needed to physically feel that you were healing. On top of that, I had a healer check on you at least five times a day because I was going out of my damn mind! The sedative they used was a dangerous one. If too much of it got into you, then it could have stopped your heart. Gods, I hate needing you, and I hate feeling sick with worry whenever you’re not near me. I’ve never needed anyone in my entire damn life. I was gone for two weeks because I moved my entire army around so that I could make it more secure for you. I had to be here because I don’t trust anyone other than myself to consider your safety as highly as I do. Yes, I do get to lecture you on being worried because I worry about you every single day.” The fire that blazes in his eyes cuts through the darkness.
My heart beats in a rapid rhythm; it feels like I just ran a mile. So,hedidhold me the whole time. There was never a moment in the dream where the darkness wasn’t touching me, other than brief moments here and there. Cayden stayed with me for almost two days, monitoring my heart rate, talking to me even though I couldn’t respond, and playing with my hair. There’s a swelling feeling in my chest that makes me feel like I’m suffocating, but why does it feel like Cayden is the oxygen? No, stop thinking like this. I have to keep pushing him. He must know that he can’t just disappear with no word and expect me to be okay with it.
My response dies on my lips when he runs a hand over his face, and my eyes spot his busted knuckles. I surge forward and grab his wrist. “What happened?” I demand.
“It’s nothing,” he sighs.
“Bullshit! Don’t tell me it’s nothing when you have busted knuckles, and stop telling me it’s nothing whenever I notice you’re hurt. I also hate needing you, and you don’t make it easy to worry about you, but I’m stubborn and persistent and won’t be perturbed because you’re the most irritatingly guarded person I have ever met!” I stare into his harsh gaze with a version of my own. When he looks at me like this, it’s hard to believe I’ve seen behind the ice. I don’t care if he’s not used to someone challenging him, worrying about him, or demanding information from him. If he wanted an ally that would ignore him, then he picked the wrong queen. “If we can’t communicate with each other, then we’ll never be successful. This partnership will fail all because we’re too proud to open our mouths.” I shove my hands into his chest to emphasize my point.
“Fine, you want to talk?” He roughly grips my hips. “Let’s fucking talk,” he grits out while hoisting me in the air, hugging me to his chest, and walking forward.
“Put me down.” I helplessly thrash against his hold. He slams me down on his desk, and papers crinkle beneath my weight. He stands between my parted legs and places his hands on either side of me, caging me with his body. My hair tumbles over my shoulders as I lean back on my arms for support.
“You can’t just lift me and move me as you please. I’m not your doll,” I hiss.
“You can’t just sneak out of the castle to find me as you please,” he growls. I see the darkness swimming in his eyes now that we’re closer. He’s only been this livid a few times, but it’s never been directed at me. “You’re mine to protect, whether you like it or not.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring the extremely inconvenient fluttering feeling in my belly. Gods, emotions have the worst timing. “I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for me to obey your orders. On second thought,” I briefly bring one hand forward to tap a finger on my chin, “that might be rather amusing.”
“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?” he deadpans.
“Yes, and you’re just a ray of sunshine,” I echo one of the first things he ever said to me. I know he recalls the moment because his eyes flare in recognition and aggravation. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and you’re going to give me a yes or no answer. Understood, soldier?”
I may be on the bottom, but I’m in control. He can throw me around all he wants, but I didn’t jump over a balcony only to be bossed around by an oversized grump. He can handle my anger just as well as I can handle his. His eyes shoot daggers in my direction, but he knows I won’t relent.
“If I didn’t show up when I told you I would, knowing I was in a dangerous place, would you be worried?”
“It’s different for—”
