The Last Dragon of the East

Chapter 28

28

I have never known a craving like this before.

Every single one of my senses is attuned to Jyn.

They overwhelm me: the smell of her hair, the impossible softness of her ivory skin, the taste of her lips, the sound of her languid moans, the sight of my want reflected in her own glowing gaze.

I slowly peel away the layers of her robes, memorizing every dip and curve. As I undress her, I can’t help but wonder in how many of my past lives I have had the privilege of knowing this feeling. Being able to admire her for the first time, possibly the first of many—I’m convinced there is no better blessing.

She kisses with a hunger that I match, savoring the taste of her. Jyn is far rougher than I am when it comes to disrobing, practically tearing away my clothes. I have no complaints, reveling in her eagerness. I lay her down on her jumble of pillows, lifting away the last of her silks—

And pause.

Her body is covered in scars. The majority of them are an angry red, deep and jagged across her tender flesh. Her arms, her chest, her ribs, her belly, her thighs—marred by unspeakable violence. I can’t recall seeing such terrible marks on her when she was a dragon, though I suppose I was too mesmerized by her to have noticed. Now, I can’t look away.

Especially the jagged scars upon her wrists. Row upon row upon row of puckered flesh, usually hidden beneath the cover of her long sleeves.

I carefully trace the tips of my fingers over the scars, struggling to keep my sorrow off my face. “Who did this to you?”

Jyn tries to squirm away, but I hold on to her tighter. Her cheeks flush as she casts her eyes down in shame to avoid mine. She doesn’t answer me for a long while. And when she does, it’s barely a whisper, the sound of her voice almost lost to the soft winds just outside our tent.

“I did.”

My stomach churns. “What?”

Her eyes won’t meet mine. “Don’t think less of me, Sai.”

“I would never. I only want to understand why.”

“It was… lonely, these seven thousand years.” Her emerald eyes go dark and distant as her lower lip trembles. “There were times where I thought perhaps it might be… easier. To end it. To finally be at peace.”

Her confession stops me from breathing. I’m heartbroken, horrified that she almost erased her light from this world, yet grateful it never came to pass. With all those years spent alone, how could I blame her?

“Yet you remain,” I say.

“Because I’m a coward. I was too afraid to reincarnate.”

“Why?”

“I was scared of forgetting you,” she confesses. “You know what it’s like, seeing bits and pieces, but never understanding the whole. If I forgot who you were to me, there’d be a chance I would never find you again. I couldn’t bear the thought.”

I take both her hands, lacing her fingers gingerly between mine. “You’re no coward. You are the bravest soul I have ever met. I can’t imagine the things you’ve endured.”

My jaw tightens as I notice a different scar, tracing its shape. This one runs deeper than the rest, cutting all the way across the width of her torso. “Were all of these really by your own hand?”

“Not all. Some were his doing. I narrowly escaped before deciding to go into hiding for good centuries ago.”

Jyn wraps her arms around my neck as our bodies press together. Her bare skin against mine is heaven incarnate, fulfilling a need I didn’t realize I had. “Please,” she rasps. “Whatever happens, Sai, stay away from Róng. That man is—” Her voice breaks, a sob rising instead. “I can’t lose you again.”

“I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“But Sai… it will .”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll grow old again,” she says. “I’ll only be able to watch you grow old and gray. You’ll pass on, and I’ll be alone again.”

I breathe her in, holding her with more care than I would the finest silks of all the lands. I don’t know what to say—if there’s anything to say. I wouldn’t want to watch my Fated One fade and leave me again, either.

Her tears betray her, streaking down her cheeks as I kiss her. “Sai—”

“This time will be different,” I say slowly, softly stroking her thighs.

“How can you possibly know that?”

I hold her gaze, steadfast. It would be foolish of me to make grand, sweeping promises after everything Jyn has been through. I can’t wipe away the misery of seven thousand lonely years, but I have never been one to give up hope. There’s no telling what the future has in store for us, but I am as determined as I’ll ever be to keep Jyn safe. I may not be able to move Heaven and Earth, but that won’t stop me from trying where my Fated One is concerned.

In the same way I can sense her over our thread, I allow her to feel my conviction. I don’t need words, I realize, when she can know my entire mind. How do I know that this time will be different? Because we are here together against all odds. Fate has helped us find one another. In this lifetime, maybe we stand a fighting chance.

Jyn relaxes beneath me, her nerves soothed. She brushes her fingers across my cheek with a placated sigh. She knows, just as I know: I will never leave her again.

“May I, my heart?”

Jyn murmurs against my lips, “Yes.”

We move as one, our bodies intertwined in sweet bliss. Her pleasure sings over our bond with every soft caress and roll of our hips. Each desperate kiss is amplified tenfold by our connection. We fit perfectly, made for each other in every way. Two halves of one fated whole.

The heat that has been pooling in the pit of my stomach grows—a tight coil, hotter and brighter with every touch. Jyn’s contented sighs soak into the tent’s canvas, the sound of her moans for my ears alone. She drags her fingers down my back, her hips bucking eagerly against mine.

“You don’t need to be so gentle,” she says with a light laugh as I wipe the tears at the edges of her eyes. The sound is so innocent and giddy that my heart almost stops. Gods, what I wouldn’t give to make her laugh like this every day.

“I don’t want to hurt you, my lady.”

“You could never hurt me this way,” she murmurs against the corner of my mouth. “Not in this life, the ones before, or the ones to come.”

I pause. “Jyn…”

My eyes fall to our thread of fate. Its middle is a stunning crimson, but it remains gray and frayed near the ends where it wraps around our fingers. Our bond has repaired itself almost completely, and yet it remains incomplete.

It was a mistake.

What did she mean by that? What other secrets has she kept to herself, and more importantly, why?

“I’ve waited so long for you to come back, to return to your true self,” she whispers against my ear, her fingers tightly grasping the roots of my hair. My attention snaps back to the present and I forget my concerns in an instant. “Take me, Your Majesty.”

Our lips crash together in a frenzy, our movements transforming from sweet and gentle to rough and wild. I’ve never felt this sudden hunger before, this animal instinct to devour and claim. Perhaps it’s the result of many missed lifetimes. I decide not to question it, instead seeking out her pleasure with every wanton thrust.

She’s divinity incarnate, her beauty unmatched. Together we are union and sweat and ecstasy. When we finally find the edges of our sanity again, we fall together, still locked in a tight embrace. We kiss lazily through the warm haze, breathing as one, staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

Quiet finds us, though it’s not an uncomfortable silence. There’s peace to be found when all there is to listen to is our own beating hearts, the distant whistle of the breeze, and the quiet calls of songbirds outside. Even the activity around the village is nothing but a dull, soothing murmur.

I wrap her up in the softest collection of blankets, brushing my fingers through her hair. I admire the warm color of her cheeks and the way her eyes flutter closed. I dare not disturb her when she falls asleep in my arms, more than happy to take in the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

I don’t find rest as easily as she does, so after I’m sure Jyn is fast asleep, I carefully slip away and get dressed. Perhaps I can venture to the village center and barter for something to eat. I’m sure she’ll be famished by the time she wakes.

I take my time, enjoying the opportunity to stretch my legs. It seems that we’ve spent the better part of midday in our tent. People are out and about this afternoon, gathering firewood from the bamboo forest and fresh water from the nearby stream. Everyone has a part to play here, the women and men taking up work in equal measure. As I pass through, I notice that it’s not at all uncommon to find village men tending to their children as women sharpen their tools.

“Sai, my friend, might I have a word?”

I look up to find the village elder quickly approaching. “Of course. Good day to you, sir.”

“I wish it were,” he says, worry weighing down his wrinkled features.

“Is something the matter?”

“Have you seen Mei? She’s roughly this tall,” he asks, gesturing to just above his knee. “She’s one of our youngest. I believe your lady was playing with her and a group of other girls earlier today. She’s gone missing, you see, and it will soon be nightfall.”

I frown. That’s concerning indeed. “I haven’t seen her, but I can ask Jyn.”

“Ask me what?”

I turn to find Jyn walking toward me, rubbing her weary eyes with the backs of her hands. She’s fully dressed, though her hair is an endearing mess.

“What are you doing up, my sunshine?”

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” she mumbles, quiet enough for only me to hear. She combs her fingers through her locks and smooths out her robes. “I was worried.”

“I left to find you something to eat.”

Jyn gives me a small, almost bashful smile. “How thoughtful.” She turns to the village elder. “What were you saying earlier?”

“A child has gone missing,” the village elder explains. “Mei. We must find her before dark. A few of us are gathering to search the forest.”

I lean in to whisper in her ear. “Do you think you can track her scent?”

Jyn nods. “We’ll find her.”

The village elder sighs in partial relief. “Thank you both. Quickly, we must make haste. The surrounding forests are relatively safe, but Mei is far too small to be out alone.”

“Then I’d better join you,” Feng interjects, stepping forward. Her bow and a quiver of arrows are already thrown over her shoulder.

The muscles in my neck and back strain, and my nostrils flare out of reflex alone. How long was she standing there? Why will this huntress not leave us be?

“Let’s go, Leaf Water,” she says, taking the lead. “Try not t’ get yerself eaten.”

My first instinct is to suggest that she stay behind. I’m not pleased by the thought of having her so close to Jyn, but then I think better of it. The huntress is a far better tracker than most. If anyone can find the missing child, it’s her.

Beside me, Jyn presses her hand to the middle of my shoulder blades. My muscles release at her touch. I didn’t realize how tense I’d become.

“Come along,” Jyn says. “The sooner we find the girl, the better.”

I take a deep breath, more than a little aware of how the huntress eyes the two of us suspiciously over her shoulder. Her demeanor is cold and untrusting, her unusually alert posture betraying her paranoia. We will have to be exceedingly cautious around her; there’s no telling what she’ll do once she gets us alone in the forest.

Reaching down, I take Jyn’s hand and give her fingers a light squeeze.

Stay close to me, my heart.