Page 162 of Upon Buried Embers
“And what were you talking about?”
“The Games. Everyone was talking about it.”
“So you scared her?” I take a step forward, and Calian steps in front of me, hand on my shoulder. I look at it and then back up at him. “Remove your hand or lose it.”
“Calm down. It wasn’t Tofa’s fault.”
“She probably scared her, made her this way!”
His eyes harden. “We were all talking about it, Rohan. They’re upon us, it’s natural for everyone to be speaking about them.”
I know this, but my rage and worry doesn’t care about that.
“Someone here hurt what is mine!” I bark out at everyone as Calian steps back, Tofa at his side. “Have you all forgotten the rules?” I say, walking between them. “Have you forgotten how you were alljustpunished recently?”
Some shuffle on their feet, others avert their eyes, sensing my anger.
“Have you?!” I demand.
“No, Dragonbond.”
“Then why is she hurt?” I point to my tent. “Why is something that is mine, hurt? Again!”
“Rohan…” Kaldar begins, and I pin him with my glare.
“Find them,” I growl, fire heating my skin. “Find out who it was, Kaldar, before I punish every one of them much more than last time. Find them before I make them all beg for death. Understand?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kaldar hedges.
“Yes, it will.”
“They didn’t all hurt her, Rohan, think about this.”
“I am thinking about it. This is the second time she’s been hurt in my clan and no more!” I explode, fists clenching at my sides. My clan takes a step back, a dragon’s roar in the distance, Drogonah, echoing my fury. “Find who the fuck did this.”
“Okay,” Kaldar placates, hands up. “Okay, I will find them, Rohan, but you need to calm down. You can’t do this here.”
My nostrils flare, and I know he’s right, but she’s hurt.
Always getting fucking hurt.
“Go to her, Rohan,” Kaldar says. “If she wakes up and you aren’t there, it won’t be good.”
I know, but my anger… she doesn’t respond well to it.
“I will find them,” he promises, and I take a deep breath.
“See that you do, Kaldar. I won’t be able to hold back much longer.” I turn and head back into my tent.
Pausing at the entrance, I steady my breathing, willing myself to calm down before I go near her.
She shouldn’t be around anything violent.
Yet you’re taking her to The Games….
I banish the thought and step inside, my eyes instantly going to where she rests in the makeshift bed.
She looks so small curled up, and I crouch beside her, stroking the side of her face. It’s puffy from crying, and some hair has come out of her braid.
