Page 14 of Upon Buried Embers
I’m not good with heights.
“Scared I will throw you down there? It would be so easy,” he murmurs. “You weigh as much as a leaf.”
“Please don’t,” I squeak.
“Scared of heights?”
I don’t answer, digging my hands into his back. We bounce a little as he walks, and I think he did that on purpose just to hear me cry out, which I do, multiple times.
I feel the moment we hit solid ground, a sigh of relief coming from me and a rumble coming from him. My feet are on the floor next, then a hand at my chin as he forces me to look at him.
In this position, my head coming below his shoulders, it makes me feel as small as I am.
Asweakas I am.
Rohan looks me over, then lights a torch he pulls from his pack and throws it to the right. I turn, seeing a pool of water and what seems like steam rising from it through the flickering torchlight.
My brows furrow.
“Undress.” I blink, turning to look at him and stepping away, wrapping my arms around myself. He eyes me. “I won’t ask again, I’ll just do it for you.”
I don’t say anything, terror freezing me, but then he’s on me, keeping his word.
Despite my cries of pain and fear, my slapping hands, panicked noises or my feeble attempts at pushing him away, I’m standing naked before him in mere moments.
I cover my small breasts, a hand hiding what’s between my thighs as I stare at his chest, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Go,” Rohan mumbles, turning his back to me. After a moment of peeking at him facing the wall, I turn and walk to the water quickly.
I tentatively lower one foot, readying myself for the cold, but what I find is… warmth.
I gasp quietly, swirling my foot deeper, spreading my toes. I put my other foot in, slowly wading deeper to make sure I can stand in it, then I drop my arms, my hands sliding over the surface as I eventually dunk under the water, relishing in the cocoon of warmth.
I don’t think I’ve ever been surrounded by this much heat before. It feels like a hug, the deepest of hugs. I want to stay here forever.
A hand grabs my arm, yanking me up and I gasp for breath, water trickling down my face as I look up at a stern one.
My eyes track down and with a start, I realize he’s naked, apart from the ribbons around his forearms. His golden, tanned skin is on display from the waist up, marred with scars, a story of battle and adventure, of a Dragonbond, a true rider of dragons.
His muscles flex, his body strong and resilient, reliable and terrifying. I take in the width of his shoulders, the tattoos I can’t make out on his right arm, the bulging abs, the dark hair below his navel trailing down and the…
“What are you doing?” he growls, and my head snaps up, seeing a purple sheen flashing in his eyes. I swallow, crossing my arms again even though the water is up to my shoulders.
“Feeling the warmth,” I mumble. “I haven’t felt it like this before.”
He tilts his head, looking from me to the water, before he slowly lets go of my arm.
Unsure of what to do, I just stand there, and the longer I do, the angrier he looks.
“Go on,” he says, and I stare at him in confusion. “Wash yourself.”
Oh.
Something splashes in the water, and I grab it before it sinks on instinct.
Picking up the pale red-colored block, no bigger than my palm, I run a thumb over it, watching suds form.
“Soap,” I bring it to my nose and smell the scent of roses. It’s so nice, so clean, so… un-slave like.
