Chapter 47
Sage
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this . . . happy.
Von and I laid in bed together, his large body curled protectively behind mine, his length still in me, the two of us unwilling to disconnect from one another. His strong arms were wrapped around me, an impenetrable fortress, one I never wanted to leave again.
It was a problem I’d have to figure out in the morning, but the morning hadn’t come yet. Thankfully. And right now, I was safe and warm, and tucked up beside the one I loved most.
“Von?” I asked, my fingers painting invisible symbols against his steely forearm.
“Yes, Little Goddess?” he said, his head tucked above mine.
“Do you think bond drunk is a thing?” My voice was soft, sedated .
He chuckled. “I’d say it is.”
“I think so too,” I said, a small yawn escaping me. “Von?”
“Yes, my love?” he purred then pressed a kiss against the top of my head.
“I know you don’t need to rest, but will you fall asleep with me tonight?” I didn’t know why, but it meant something to me—that he would let his guard down and join me in the land of dreams.
He was silent for a moment before he said, “If that is what you wish, I will.”
“Good.” Another yawn passed my lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I mumbled as my mind closed up shop and I handed myself over to the night.
I kept low to the ground, my sister’s trusted bow in one hand, an arrow in the other. I had been tracking this buck for the better half of the morning, but every time I got within range, his ears would flip back, and he’d startle into a run.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself I had nothing but time. And if there was one thing that I wasn’t doing, it was going back to camp empty-handed.
Through the trees, I spotted him—
A nice-sized mule deer with four beautiful points. It had a strange white mark along the side of its neck—it almost looked like a stroke of lightning.
Without a whisper of sound, I nocked my arrow and prepared to take the shot.
I held my breath, steadied my hand, and released.
Thwishhhhh. It whistled through the air.
Just as the deer started to run, the arrow found purchase, but not where I had wanted it to hit.
Because the deer had moved, the arrow bit into its hindquarter.
It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it did injure it, which to me, was worse.
Guilt swept over me as I cursed myself for not being quick enough.
I hated when an animal needlessly suffered.
I chased after it, knowing that if the animal went down, there was a good chance I wouldn’t find it in the bush—I needed to keep up with it.
Lungs heaving, legs aching, I chased it for what had to be three miles—perhaps even more. My body strained from the exertion of running through the uneven, wicked terrain. My ankles cried out the most.
The deer stopped, and I was granted another shot.
I reached back, plucking an arrow from my quiver. When I went to take it, my footing gave way, and the ground caved underneath me.
I screamed as I slid through a tunnel-like structure. It was like a massive badger had burrowed his way into the ground, digging dozens and dozens of feet below, and now, I was falling through it—
A never-ending hole.
The ends of my fingernails snapped off as I clawed at the dirt, clay, and rocks, trying to fight against gravity’s greedy pull.
I was spewed out of the tunnel, and for a brief moment, I was airborne, like a bird in the sky. The only problem? I didn’t have wings.
My body crashed into the harsh ground, and I came to a rolling stop, lying on my back.
It knocked the wind out of me.
Slowly, I moved onto my side, lungs wheezing for air, bones aching. I laid like that for a minute, maybe two, before I started to get my wits about me—recalling I had just fallen down a very long tunnel, to Creator only knew where.
I propped a hand against the ground and slowly lifted myself up, spitting dirt and saliva out. When I was done, I wiped my mouth with the back of my wrist.
Neck lengthening, I looked up, and up, and up.
I must have fallen at least a mile. It was a wonder I was still alive. The tunnel must have been at just the right angle, preventing me from falling too fast—although, at the time, it had felt like I was flying.
It was a long way back to the top, and the steepness of the canyon-like walls was not something I’d be able to climb. Gigantic trees, hundreds of feet tall, spread out before me. It was as if they were trying to grow their way out of this monstrous sinkhole.
Trickling water rivered down the steeply sloped sides that surrounded me. One stream led to a lake, not far from me. Out of it leapt a sparkling silver fish. It plunked back into the water below.
What is this place? I wondered to myself.
A low growl rumbled from the trees, the hairs on the back of my neck standing .
I patted the ground, searching for my bow.
Dammit. I must have dropped it when I fell.
I reached for my dagger, always strapped to my thigh, but it wasn’t there either. The weight of my quiver was gone as well.
Shit! I had no weapons, nothing to defend myself with. The tunnel had stripped me of—
The tunnel!
Whatever was hiding in the trees let out another warning growl, spurring me into action.
Shooting to my feet, I swirled around, spotting the hole I had been tossed out of. I started for it, eyes searching the ground for my weapons along the way.
Please. Please. Please, I repeated the mantra.
I looked around, frantically searching but finding . . . nothing.
My heart sank.
Trees smashed behind me, and I spun around, ready to meet my fate.
A beast, cut from darkness itself, emerged. It had sleek, black scales that looked like impenetrable armor and vicious, snarling teeth.
Larger than life. It was—
A dragon!
“Stay back!” I cried out as it approached, knocking over the trees as if they were brittle twigs.
My hand trembled, my lungs heaved, my knees wobbled.
The stories my father used to tell began to sift into my mind—about the dangerous dragons that lurked in the shadows of this world, only appearing when little children didn’t do as their parents asked.
Those children would be taken away and never seen again.
Father would snap his teeth at us, his fingers tickling our bellies as he said dragons loved to eat little kids.
As I grew older and I listened to the horrific stories passed among our clan, I came to realize—dragons didn’t differentiate between children and adults . . . They’d eat anything that walked.
My foot collided with something in the dirt, knocking it loose.
My eyes widened— my dagger !
With lightning speed, I grabbed it and thrust it up into the air, holding it out in warning as I snarled, “I mean it. Stay back!”
The dragon tipped its head curiously to the side, eyeing my dagger—about the right size for it to pick its teeth with after it was done eating me.
Its endlessly black eyes, larger than my head, shifted back to mine.
Although it was a beast, its eyes were full of intelligence.
It was like looking through a glass window into the inner workings of a lethally sharp mind.
I could see those sleek cogs moving, turning in thought and churning out a plan.
Probably to eat me.
I swallowed, waiting for the snap of those vicious teeth to end me in one swift bite.
But then, the dragon sat down.
Its tail curled around its monstrous body. It looked like a massive black house cat, but I wasn’t foolish enough to try to pet it. The tip of its tail swished from side to side in anticipation as it waited to devour me.
It was as if the dragon was enjoying this . . .
My brow furrowed, my eyes shifting as I looked for an escape.
I wasn’t going to allow it to torment me like this.
Perhaps if I could get the rest of the way to the tunnel, I might be able to climb my way out of it.
But would I be able to get there in time before the dragon’s iron jaw clamped around me?
I had to try.
Turning on my heel, I sprinted toward the hole.
My blood thrummed in my veins, shooting adrenaline through me.
My heart pounded in my ears, my body waiting for that deadly swipe of the dragon’s claws.
Reaching the hole, I didn’t dare look back.
I leapt up, trying to grab hold of the opening, trying to pierce the wall with my dagger.
I tried again and again, but I had no luck.
The wall was too hard to pierce. I chucked the dagger onto the ground and resorted to my fingernails, desperation making an animal out of me, unable to think logically.
Deep down, I knew the opening was too high for me to reach.
Still, I jumped, my fingernails biting into the dirt, but I never got close enough.
I didn’t want to die down here. I didn’t want to die!
Father Creator, please help me . I prayed, begging for his aid. I made the plea over and over again, but my prayer was never answered.
By the time the sun started to dip its head, I was exhausted. I turned around, rested my back against the dirt wall, and slid toward the ground, crumpling in a heap of exhaustion and frustration.
I looked up at the dragon, who was still sitting there, onyx eyes thoroughly fixed on me.
That damn tail twitching from side to side.
It infuriated me.
How dare the creature take pleasure in my suffering.
My fingers, raw and bloodied, patted the ground beside me. Landing on a stone about the size of my palm, my fingers curled around it. “Well! If you are going to eat me, just fucking eat me already!” I growled as I hurtled the rock at the damned beast.
It ricocheted off the dragon’s head, landing on the ground beside it. The creature didn’t even move. It was like watching a mosquito strike a crocodile.
“That wasn’t very nice,” purred the dragon, its voice rich and deep.
I bristled. “You can talk.”
“Indeed, I can,” he said, offering no more, those sinister eyes watching me, always watching.