Page 11 of Oath of Betrayal
Orm’s eyes narrowed, and his fist tightened until his knuckles went white. I knew why. Protecting women was beaten into a dragon rider’s psyche at a young age, and I’d just revealed I would stop at nothing to gain access to her power.
After a moment, he spoke in his usual stoic manner. ‘If that’s what it takes to protect the kingdom, then I will bring you my own pillows to make up your bed in your efforts to seduce her—but only to restore the Barrier; with regard to the rest of your plan, my answer is no.’
Pretending to agree, I smiled at his jest, though I soon sobered with the realisation of how much he trusted me while I weaved an intricate web of lies and half-truths, telling him exactly, and only, what he needed to hear.
I am my father’s son, I thought with bitterness, my lies tainting the only place I called home. I didn’t want to throw that feeling away, but living with this curse when I could be free …
I truly loathed what I had become; that’s why I was pulling away from Orm. He came to me because hecared, and it killed me to see the trust in his eyes. Feeling his concern hurt more than the blood oath ever did, and I found no pleasure in the pain.
‘Lost in thought again?’ Orm’s slumped shoulders belied the gently teasing tone of his voice, but he shook it off as he stood and looked at me with concern. ‘You don’t have to do it alone, Ari. Take my offer. I can cross the Barrier at any time. Just wait for me, and as soon as the Barrier’s secured, we can fly to Katrass to face the Lich King together. Please, I don’t want to lose my friend, and I feel like you are pulling further away with each passing day,’ he said with sadness, and his words stabbed me in the gut.
Damn the man. Damn the warmth he brought into my life. I didn’t deserve a friend like him, but I had no choice.
Since we’d found the mage, my dreams had become more violent, but worse was the voice … A constant companion, an incessant seduction, it was full of fake promises and platitudes. It haunted my dreams, robbing me of rest, and I didn’t know how long I could handle it.
‘You have your duties here, Lord Commander. The rest … even between friends, some distance is needed,’ I said, and Orm closed his eyes, but not before I saw the raw pain hidden in their depths.
‘If that is what you think is best, I will respect your decision.’
He walked away without another glance, an ache arising—so unbearable it took my breath away—that had nothing to do with the silver scars on my body.
Three months later
Iturned to the side, pressing the pillow to my face before inhaling its verbena scent deeply. The familiar smell and shape of my small bed calmed my racing heart. I laid there, listening to the wind and morning birdsong, and let the day seep into my body.
It was barely past dawn, the air in my small cottage slowly warming after last night’s chill, but my dreams had awakened me early. My sleep had been filled with images of the dragon from the lake since our chance encounter months ago, his piercing blue eyes looking at me with such understanding and compassion that I woke up crying every morning.
I knew that the beast in my dreams wanted me to find him.In truth, he seemed to share my loneliness and growing need to belong, to have my spirit joined with another in a bond so profound it would leave me broken if it ever shattered.
I hadn’t considered such a connection in years. The mere thought of caring enough to go through that again filled me with fear and repulsion, but now … now, I wanted to live again, to be who I once was. A conduit mage with an Anchor that sheltered my soul.
I didn’t know why my subconscious was so obsessed with the blue-eyed beast. Maybe because it had been a dragon who’d saved me before, digging out my broken body from under an avalanche … I remembered that much, even if I didn’t remember my saviour.
What if the Council of Mages found out I’m alive and sent the riders after me?Every time I thought about it, a new theory came to my mind, but it had been a baffling encounter. I’d been curious and returned to the mountain lake several times since.
Still, neither the dragon nor the dark fae ever appeared, so I had been forced to accept that my questions concerning their identities and motives would likely never be answered.
Could a woman from an ordinary family become a dragon rider?
The thought amused me, but the question had its merits. I felt connected to him, and even without an Anchor bond, his presence had helped stabilise my magic. That itself had surprised me, as I was sure that only men of certain bloodlines could have an affinity with dragons, yet simply touching him had connected me to a strength I only felt when in the presence of my Anchor.
Was it because a dragon had rescued me while I was still connected to the primal source of the aether? Had he corrupted my conduit power, giving it the potential to bind the beast? Was that the reason my body recovered after channelling somuch aether it should have killed me twice, and that I’ve survived without an Anchor for so long?
I knew that, sooner or later, I would have to form a new bond. Each day I postponed it, my magic became more challenging to handle. It was unnatural and dangerous for a conduit mage to live without at least one Anchor. Yet here I was, living unbound and defying the laws of magic.
Am I ready for a new bond?
I touched my chest where the shield and healing ivy marked my skin. The sigils of my Anchor bonds. They hadn’t faded when my men died, their magic disappearing with them.
I reached to the nearby table, grasped the small hand mirror I kept there, and pulled my shirt to the side in my personal ritual.Still there. You haven’t abandoned me.I traced my finger over the lines, feeling the tightness in my chest threatening to choke me.
‘I know you’d both want me to bond with someone, to be happy, but how can I? How can I take another man when you are still with me?’ I whispered before putting the mirror down.
Even if I was willing to try, it wasn’t just my life at stake. If a conduit mage rejected the Anchor bond in their soul, both the mage and their Anchor would die.
So, for the last ten years, the first thing I did after opening my eyes every morning was to look in the mirror, dreading the day I’d see unblemished skin. Every single day, it was the same. The shield and ivy wrapped over my heart lingered, protecting it.
I placed my hand over the marks again, pressing down until the ache faded and I could breathe again. I might dream about enticing dragons, but I knew that deep inside I was broken and afraid that if I allowed myself to touch someone’s heart, mine would fracture again.
