Page 155 of Upon Buried Embers
“That’s a pretty name.”
“She’s a pretty dragon. I remember when I was a small boy she used to curl around me while my mother had chores to do, and I would jump on her back and bite her horns.”
“Bite?” A burst of laughter comes from me.
“Yeah,” he smiles ruefully. “I thought it would make my teeth sharper.”
I laugh harder at that, imagining a little Rohan on a dragon’s neck, chomping at her horns.
“Is that funny, Elf?” Rohan asks, and then he’s on top of me, tickling me.
“Ahh,” I wiggle away from his hands but it’s no use. I laugh the loudest I ever have, the longest I ever have, while Rohan grins down at me.
“Okay, okay,” I tell him breathlessly.
His hands still on my hips. “Give up?”
“I give up.” Slumping under him, I try and catch my breath as his hands lift to either side of my head, eyes darkening.
“Too easy,” he hums, mouth inches from mine. “What easy prey you are, hmm?” I blink up at him, licking my lips.
His eyes flare, that ring of purple almost glowing, and with such intense focus, he traces my lips, pushing the bottom one in a little. I suck in a sharp breath, my heart hammering and I wiggle a little before he closes his eyes, body tense.
“Rohan,” I say, my voice unsure, and then he takes a deep breath, maneuvering us.
He lays half on top of me, heavy arm around my waist, chin resting on top of my head. I’m completely surrounded in a way I’ve come to love. So warm and protected.
“Sleep now,” he murmurs. I close my eyes as I reach up and grab a strand of his hair, holding it.
“Elf?”
“Hmm,” I hum, already half asleep.
“You do belong somewhere,” he says, holding me tighter. “You belong here with me.”
I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
Thirty Seven
Elf
The clans start to arrive two days later, the space now filled with tents and campfires.
The separation is clear to see with the colored ribbons they’ve attached to their off-white tents, and we are all in our respective clans. Black for Clan Blackscale, Green for Clan Greenclaw, Blue for Clan Rivertail, White for Clan Highwing, and Red for Clan Firehorn. There seems to be a neutral space in the center where a large bonfire resides.
The clans brought everyone they have apart from the elderly and children, or those who have no interest in the Blessing.
There are some older kids here though, waiting to head into The Glade to see if they’re chosen as a Dragonbond and come out with a dragon.
The thought scares me with how young they are, but Rohan assured me it’s normal and dragons do not harm innocents.
I wanted to ask how they knew that, but he left when Dorkin approached him, heated whispers following. I heard Rohan say something about calling something off, finding something else. Ihave no idea what he was talking about, but they left and went to a tent that is just for his council members.
I close the flap of Rohan’s tent, nerves rattling through me. We talked about how I can get near the other Dragonbond’s dragons while they’re here, and I have no idea how I’m even going to do that.
It’s night now, and there’s a muted chorus of laughter and ruckus all around me. Barrels of mead were brought for the Blessings of The Glade, and they wasted no time in opening them.
I grab my cloak off the side table and take a deep breath. It’s now or never.
