Page 86 of Upon Buried Embers
I realize he’s stroking himself.
“And on another day,” he breathes heavily. “You will be cleaning up the mess I make for you.” He groans, pulling me closer as I feel hot splashes against my back. “Fuck.”
He rubs his release into me and I shiver as a satisfied sigh comes from him.
There’s a burning in my stomach that’s too strong as my panting breath hits his neck, and I’m left with this unfamiliar feeling of need for something as Rohan finishes washing himself, then my back.
After a moment, he gets us both out. He never once looks at my naked body, and wanting to distract myself from the unfamiliar need pulsing through me as I wrap a large towelaround me, I think of something to ask. I think about what was spoken in The Graveyard, about The Games, about this… Blessing. But instead, I ask, “Why don’t you deserve the title of Dragonbond?”
He stills, hands on the towel he dries himself with and tension fills the space in a way that makes me instantly regret my words.
He looks down at his forearms, and I do the same.
At first, I don’t understand, but then I realize he has his ribbon off. My eyes go to his other arm and my lips part in shock.
How did I not notice?
Dragonbonds have a connection to their dragon. The proof of that is the dragon bestows his scales upon its Dragonbond’s forearm, from just below the elbow to wrist.
But Rohan… he has none. Just scarred skin beyond belief on his forearm. It looks like burn scars on both of them, sinking into his flesh. No scales in sight.
Rohan begins to wrap his forearms with the black ribbon.
“You’re not the only one who is different, Elf.”
“Hurry! We have to be quick.”
“Where are we going? I’m scared!”
“No matter what, you must not say our name, understand? No one can know.”
“I don’t want to go. Don’t leave me!”
“Quickly, now.” She places her hands on my cheeks, tears dripping down our faces as eyes like mine beg me to understand. “I will find you again, dear sister, I promise. It’s just for now.”
“I don’t want to be on my own!” Hands grab me, and I hold on to my sister’s hand for as long as possible through the doorway. “Come with me.”
“I can’t.”
I feel myself being jostled, fabric being pulled from over my head.
“You’re quite noisy tonight.” The tone is deep, sleep-riddled.
I grumble something, my fingers twitching as the rope around my ankle is pulled tight from being attached to the pole. I must make a noise of protest, one of discomfort as cold seeps into me, but I’m too tired to fully wake up, the dream still there in my mind.
“Fine, have it your way, Elf, but I don’t do these things out of the goodness of my heart,” Rohan murmurs. “I just want to sleep.”
I’m placed in something softer as heat comes from above me, a heavy weight that is not actually restricting. An arm is wrapped around my bony waist next, and I sluggishly reach a hand up, unconsciously grabbing hair and holding it tightly, like I don’t want to let go.
This is a nice dream, I think to myself. I’m warm, safe, surrounded.
Not on my own.
A huff that sounds like a laugh comes quietly. “It seems you’re attached to my hair, Elf?” I pull at it a little, a content sigh parting my lips. “Don’t get attached.” I’m not sure if he says that to me, or to himself.
Twenty Two
Elf
