Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
LARELLIN
“—lucky she survived at all.” A deep voice.
“Wait, so she jumped?” Another male. “She must really hate you.”
“She doesn’t hate me.” Vander. I know his voice. He’s—
I startle awake. He’s the dragon. He stands in the bedroom doorway and shoos out the other two males.
My head spins, my skin on fire. DragonKin. Vander isn’t just close to the dragon. He is the dragon. The one who took me from my home.
He steps toward me.
I try to scoot away, but my leg pulses with agony. A scream rips from me.
He’s on me before I can do anything else, his big hands on my shoulders, holding me down.
“Get off.” I sound weak, my voice barely leaving a mark on the air.
“You must remain still. Lenka says you have a fever. Some sort of sickness from the bite.”
The bite. I shudder as I remember. Spiders, huge ones with silvery needle teeth and legs like thick black saplings.
“You must lie still and rest.” His voice is raspy, but his touch isn’t rough. If anything, he seems … almost afraid. Like he thinks he might break me. He’s not exactly wrong.
“I don’t think I could move much if I tried.” I wiggle the toes on the injured leg, and just that small movement sends another wave of pain through me.
The shadows jump around him, and I turn to see the fiery woman entering the bedroom. She’s carrying a wooden tray, but it doesn’t seem to burn. I blink a few times to clear my vision.
“Soup.” She slides it onto the bed. “Quit mauling the poor thing.” She smacks at the DragonKin’s leg.
I gasp and wait for him to strike her down.
He gives me a curious look, then releases my shoulders and steps back.
The woman sits next to me, her flames likewise not charring the blanket. “You did something very foolish.” She leans closer to me.
I stare at her, unsure of how she’s consumed with flames but not burning.
The nearest thing I’ve seen to it is when they burned Prioress Lenitia in the village square for daring to challenge Lord Rayid’s hold on the church.
She didn’t take the flames quite so well.
I had nightmares for months afterwards, and my mother never forgave me for disobeying her and going to watch.
But I was always a curious child, and perhaps seeing that horror and knowing what the nobles were capable of helped me learn to keep my head down.
“All Firefolk burn, child.” She takes the spoon from the tray and stirs the soup. “We’ve long kept the flame, and will keep it long after this world goes dark.”
I peer into her dark eyes, the flames dancing even in her pupils. “Does it hurt?”
“No more than it hurts for everyone.” She brings the spoon to my lips. “You need to eat. The fever is in your blood. Dreadspiders are filthy creatures. I daresay their venom isn’t the nastiest part of their bite.”
I accept the broth. It has a nice flavor, but I have a hard time swallowing. My throat is sore, my head pounding.
“Lenka?” Another fiery creature stands at the door.
“Yes.”
“Sprite sent a hobgoblin to the border for more of the vegetables, but he came back with some sort of root?”
“What does it look like?”
“Like a …” The creature scratches his fiery head. “Sort of like a dingle.”
Lenka groans and stands. “Feed her. I’ll be back soon.”
Vander glances at the tray and then to me.
I try to shake my head, but it hurts too much. “H-he’s a DragonK—”
Lenka has already disappeared.
One of Vander’s eyebrows rises. “A dragon can’t feed you soup?”
“I …” I don’t have an answer for that. The constant thundering in my head takes precedence over whatever objection I might have.
He slowly sinks to the bed beside me and takes the spoon.
“I can feed myself,” I protest, but I can’t move my hand more than a few inches toward the tray. There’s no way I could hold the spoon. It’s like everything has been drained out of me.
“Just lie still. All you have to do is breathe and swallow.”
I give him a sharp look.
His lips twitch the slightest bit. “I mean swallow the soup.”
I study his face. The scar that mars one of his eyes.
The golden skin. He looks like a man. Granted, a huge one with scales, but a man all the same.
Nothing in the childhood tales about the DragonKin prepared me for this.
We heard stories of shapeshifters in Oblivion.
Monsters that can mimic humans to lead you to your death.
Even monsters capable of taking on the appearance of people you love, also to lead you to your death.
But I’ve never heard of a dragon capable of taking the shape of a man.
“You’re the dragon.” I watch as he carefully dips the spoon into the broth.
“Yes.”
“You’re the dragon that came to Raingreen. The one who took me from the castle.”
“Eat.” He presses the warm spoon to my lips.
Reconciling this creature with the enormous dragon is like a hammer to my skull. The impossibility of it even in the realm of Oblivion, it’s as if I can’t fathom how it could be true. But I saw it with my own eyes. Why does no one in the mortal realms know about it?
“Come now, Larellin.” He tips the spoon up.
I open, the broth pleasant on my tongue. Once I swallow, I ask, “You don’t make soup from mortals, do you?”
He pauses, the candlelight dancing in his green eyes. “Is that why you wouldn’t eat before? You thought we were feeding you your own kind?”
“You eat us.” I lay my head back on the pillow, my vision going hazy.
“We do?” He reaches behind me and gingerly repositions the pillow.
“Yes.” I scoff. “You know you do. The DragonKin—”
He presses the spoon into my mouth.
I glare at him.
“There may be other of my kind that have eaten mortals, but I have not.” He grabs the napkin from the tray and dabs my chin. “And I would be the worst sort of host if I tried to feed you mortal flesh.”
I don’t trust him. Especially not when there’s a rainbow coming out of one of his ears. I stare at it.
“Open.” He feeds me another spoonful. “Lenka put some medicine in here. You’ll have to eat as much as you can stand. She also sent to the borderlands to get some vegetables for you.” He says it as if it’s distasteful to him.
“You don’t like vegetables?” I feel like giggling, the thought tickling some part of my addled mind. This huge dragon turning its nose up at vegetables like a fretful toddler.
He dabs my chin again. “I’ve never had the desire to eat them.”
The rainbow is swirling around him now, the colors turning darker.
“Why are you helping me?” I swallow more soup, my stomach warming with each spoonful.
He meets my gaze. I follow the line of his scar through his eyebrow and down until it stops at the top of his cheek.
I wonder what happened to him. Was he in dragon form when he was hurt?
I can’t imagine anything being capable of harming that scaly creature.
But what could harm this male? He’s formidable without changing shape.
“Why did you jump?” His tone is level, but his mouth goes tight as he feeds me another spoonful.
My stomach turns at his question, and I close my eyes against the swirling rainbows of color that flutter around his head.
“No more.” I turn away from him.
“More.” He grabs my chin and pulls me back to face him.
I scowl but take another spoonful of soup.
“I asked you a question.” He leans closer and strokes a lock of hair from my cheek. I realize I’m sweaty, my hair drenched.
“I heard you.” I want to reach out and grab the rainbow, the golden strands of it floating on a phantom breeze. Why does his rainbow have gold in it? I’ve never seen it in the skies over Raingreen.
He sighs. “Don’t do it again.”
I don’t answer, my mind churning over my scant memories of rainbows.
“If I think you’ll try it, I’ll tie you to the bed, pet. Is that what you want?” His voice is lower, gruffer.
“I’m not a pet.” My tongue is thick in my mouth, like it’s made of cotton.
“The windows are locked. There’s no way out of here unless it’s past me, my brothers, or the Firefolk. None of them will allow you to harm yourself.”
“Why did you bring me here?” I turn my head again when he offers another spoon of broth.
He growls under his breath. “The Bargain.”
“You could’ve already killed me. That wouldn’t change the Bargain.
You get me. My life. Everything I am. I was traded.
Sold like a beast at market. Meant for slaughter.
” My own voice sounds far away. “I shouldn’t be here.
You should’ve gutted me. That’s what Kanelden wanted.
He said… He said you would. That my blood would fall all around like rain.
He said …” I can’t see Kanelden in my mind, but I hear his voice. The hate in it.
Suddenly, I’m cold. The sweat coating me turning icy. I groan at the sudden pulse of pain from my leg.
“Rest.” The bed shifts. “The only thing you need worry about is your fever. But Lenka has brought many creatures back from the brink of death. You will be no different.”
“DragonKin are death.” I hum a song we’re taught from infancy, my thoughts floating away into dreams of smoke and flame.
“Dragons rage and dragons roam. Dragons set fire to our homes. Dragons hate and dragons kill. Dragons never get their fill. On suffering they surely feast. For naught but death can sate the beast.”