Page 28 of Upon Buried Embers
“Up, now.” His voice is much softer.
I hiccup again, wiping my own tears as he whistles.
A horse comes forward, the one I rode before, and Rohan reaches for it when it neighs. “Hush, Serah, it’s okay.” He murmurs gently to her as I shiver where I stand, teeth continuing to chatter.
I don’t dare look at the blood on the ground, at what I caused… at the dead wolves.
I throw up without warning, and I feel Rohan’s glare as I squeeze my eyes shut. Hands grab my hair next, holding it out of the way as I throw up again, my stomach cramping as I expel everything I had eaten.
I gasp for breath, fresh tears streaming down my face.
“Just breathe and let it come up.” A large, heavy hand is on my back, rubbing in circular motions, albeit awkwardly, as I hack up what’s left. When I’m done, I wipe my mouth with the back of my arm. “Here,” Rohan says as he lets go of my hair.
I take the waterskin in shaky hands, rinsing my mouth out then taking a few gulps. I hand it back, and he suddenly lifts me onto the horse. I scramble for purchase, holding onto the saddle and squeezing my thighs together.
My whole body aches, but I would much rather be on horse than walk back... or worse… be on Drogonah.
Rohan scowls as he crouches down. “Fuck,” he growls, standing and stroking down Serah’s neck. “She has a wound on her leg. You will tend to it, seeing as though you caused it by running away.”
I hurt her, too?
Guilt weighs heavy on my shoulders.
Rohan climbs on behind me, then he’s moving my leg, adjusting me to lay over his lap like a sack of potatoes.
I press on my palms to move, but a heavyslaplands on my ass and I freeze, tensing up.
“Still.” The words are quiet, and I feel him once more tying me to him.
He taps his heel on the horse and we turn, moving back toward where we came from.
The cold has seeped into my bones now, causing a rattling I cannot help. Rohan growls, cursing, and I’m hauled up into a warm body, an arm coming to the front to hold the reins while the other wraps around my waist, tightly.
I’m too tired to resist the warmth, and I slump in defeat. He makes a rough sound, like a growl but softer, and the sway of the horse’s steps rocks me into a fitful sleep.
I come to when I’m pulled down, landing clumsily on my feet, and I blink my eyes open, finding multiple sets on me, especially a sneering Darcia.
Tents have been set up, small campfires lit, and a group of dragons are sleeping off to the side. Drogonah being the largest, his ears flicking.
“Gather water and some cloth,” Rohan directs Kaldar, and he goes off to do as he’s asked after glaring at me.
Rohan loosens a buckle on Serah’s saddle as she shifts on her feet. “Easy, girl,” Rohan says, and I stand there, shivering.
When Kaldar arrives with the items, Rohan grabs me and pulls me into a crouch, the water and cloth next to me.
“Clean her.” He nods to the horse’s leg, and the wound there, bleeding a little.
“I-I don’t know how,” I say softly, apologetically.
“You caused this by running off, you will fix her.” His stare is hard and guilt sits heavy in my stomach.
Nodding, I slowly dunk the cloth in water, my fingers instantly feeling like ice, then I gently press it to the wound as the horse squeals, kicking out. I land on my back with anoomph.
I hear laughter, people snorting at my expense but Rohan crouches next to the horse, waiting for me.
Ignoring the pain in my shoulder from the kick, the pain in my foot from the wolf biting down on it, I tentatively move back to the horse. Tears are now stinging my eyes at the comments from the others.
“What a weakling.”
