Page 82 of Upon Buried Embers
“You aren’t the only Dragonbond here, Rohan.” Karag snarks.
“Correct, so you will speak to me with respect.” Rohan growls.
He huffs. “We all know you don’t deserve that title.” He looks at Rohan’s arms with something like disgust before he glares at Drogonah. Rohan bares his teeth. “But you are the king’s pet.”
Rohan growls as Varan interjects. “Enough, Karag.”
“Are we all going to continue to ignore the fact that the king always keeps him behind to speak on his own at The Games? That he always favors him?”
They all look to Rohan.
“I do not enjoy his company,” Rohan grits out. “We all try to get through The Games.”
Karag scoffs. “You continue to allow it. You’re the one who set The Games in motion in the first place!”
“And what was the alternative?” Rohan snarls. “He hurts our fucking dragons? Our People? At least this way we have a chance while he still has Nighturn.”
“The king has had us by the balls for years,” Durruk says. “We can’t exactly defy an order at The Games. It doesn’t end well. We all know that.”
“I’ll leave early for The Glade,” Rohan eventually says after a tense silence.
“That will dishonor Morana,” the woman says.
“Morana will prefer we protect her children more than wait to bless spring. I can do that at The Glade.”
Silence follows.
“That isn’t a bad idea,” Durruk mumbles.
“I agree.” That comes from Varan. “Sigrid?”
The female looks around, playing with a white ribbon before nodding her agreement.
Everyone waits for Karag, and I remember hearing about how all must be in favor for something to pass with the Dragonbonds. Those that are opposed have to challenge and win for the topic to be put to rest and not to be spoken of again for one full year.
“We need to try, it’s getting worse,” Rohan says, when Karag doesn’t speak.
“I’ll help,” Sigrid says.
Varan and Durruk agree.
Karag sighs, knowing he’s outvoted. “Fine, we shall all go early and cut short the celebrations.” Then I feel eyes on me, hard, leering. “Now, who is this?”
“Mine,” Rohan says without any hesitation, his tone level and even.
“And you bring her to The Graveyard?” Karag mutters.
“As per the vows we all made to keep peace between the clans, we show our new members when a meeting arises.” He points at the two males across from us.
“And what is your name?” Sigrid asks.
“She goes by Elf,” Rohan says, and my head turns to him. His eyes silently tell me not to say a word.
I look away, feeling less of a person and more like an animal ready for slaughter.
“Interesting.” Karag says. “So, slave girl, come here and let me look at you.” I shiver at his tone.
Glancing at Rohan, waiting for him to dispute him, my shoulders slump as I rise, hesitantly walking over to Karag when he doesn’t.
