Chapter 12 #2
His ears were delicately pointed, his jawline sharp, and his golden eyes, the color of rich honey, held a light that seemed to see right through me.
He was breathtakingly beautiful, and his casual elegance felt like a deliberate counterpoint to the controlled menace he exuded.
His skin was a deeper golden tan, probably from spending the majority of his time in this harsh environment.
The only real match for Cercies would be the High Lord himself.
He too had broad, muscular shoulders, big, bulging arms, and more abdominal muscles than I knew were possible.
He was shirtless, as were the rest of the warriors.
The captain explained during the tour that they liked to expose their skin to the heat of the lava as much as possible.
It made them stronger and less susceptible to dragon fire.
He nodded to the captain, a curt, imperious gesture. Then his gaze, heavy and assessing, fell on me. “The mortal,” he said, his voice a low, melodic rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. “You are late.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “Forgive me, General,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
What was I going to tell him? “I didn’t know what to wear.
” A pathetic half lie for an excuse. I am the worst liar, I concluded, but I could not tell him the full truth, that I had got drunk on Faerie wine and decided to stay up late and masturbate, which caused me to oversleep.
He looked me up and down thoroughly. My breath hitched under the heat of his gaze. A hint of a smile flickered across his lips, so briefly I might have imagined it. Then it became predatory, all sharp angles and hidden teeth.
“Your attire is just fine with me,” he smoothly remarked. Suddenly I wished I could cover up. Something about his tone made me feel uneased.
He turned and walked away. His movements were fluid and silent, and I scrambled to keep up.
I was a mortal in a world of monsters and magic, and one of the most dangerous of all was the beautiful male walking just a few feet ahead of me.
I had no idea what to expect, but I did not feel exactly safe. I wished Aurelius were here.
He led me to a secluded area inside a stone building, where various practice weapons and workout equipment lined the walls.
I heard the door behind us click shut, and my heart dropped.
I looked around and realized we were very much alone.
Aurelius would not leave me here alone with him if I were not safe, would he?
“Let’s get started. First, we will determine what you are capable of,” he commanded, shifting into work mode.
He had me do various exercises like planks, push-ups, and sprints. He tried to push me to my physical limits.
I found it difficult to focus when all I could think about were his hands. He touched various parts of my body to correct my form. The conditioning session became a blur of exhausting drills, but the exhaustion was overshadowed by a persistent, simmering discomfort.
I could not tell if he was touching me more than necessary, but every touch, though professional, felt dirty.
It was not that he was doing anything necessarily wrong.
It was how it made me feel. My pulse quickened.
I needed to escape. I refused to be a victim again.
Not after everything I went through. Everything I had survived.
This was not going to happen again. I wanted out of the locked room.
Every alarm in my gut was going off at once.
“Can I take a quick bathroom break?” I asked, interrupting his drill.
He paused and studied me for a few moments, his expression unreadable.
Finally, he spoke. “Of course,” he replied with a nod of his head, then opened the door.
He pointed me in the direction of the restrooms. I forced myself to remain calm and walked past him, down the hall, without drawing suspicion.
Once I turned the corner and out of his line of sight, I sprinted as quietly as possible.
I somehow managed to find an exit door and slipped outside.
I banked left to round the corner when I ran smack into a hard, sweaty chest. I looked up to see the tall, menacing face of a random soldier.
Make that three soldiers. One of them grabbed my wrist with an iron grip.
“Let me go!” I yelled.
“What do we have here?” one snarled.
“I got dibs on next!” another chanted. All three chuckled demonically.
He restrained my arms behind my back, one of them stepped in closer.
He began to rub my breasts, I jerked away, causing his hand to tear one of the leather straps on my top.
I sobbed, trying to break free from his hold, but it was no use.
I had run from one predator into the hands of three more.
No, no, not again, I thought. This could not be happening.
My soul shattered. I started to scream, but I was met with a filthy hand clamped over my mouth.
Tears drenched the skin on my chest where my shirt had been torn, and snot ran from my nose, only to be smeared across my face by the same rough hand.
I cried out in the most guttural, fearful way I could, but no one heard me. I was powerless again.
Flashbacks of that house flooded my mind, and I did not care if I lived or died.
When suddenly all three males began to spontaneously combust. Their bodies engulfed in a rageful flame.
My captor released me before the flames could reach me.
Their screams of agony carved through my ears like glass.
I watched for a moment as their flesh began to melt from their bones.
I looked away, I dropped to my knees, covering my face, my tears pooling in my palms, screaming, and shaking.
I heard three consecutive big thuds and looked up, their bodies had dropped to the ground, behind them a furious Cercies stood breathing heavy with bared teeth.
His hand extended with retreating flame.
It was him; he had saved me. Or was he going to kill me too for running away?
He paced toward me, panicking. I tried to scurry away, attempting to flee in terror. Then I felt his large, rough hands grab me. I gasped, thinking I was going to be next, but instead he scooped me up in his heavily muscled arms.
“Are you injured?” he asked, but it sounded more like a bark. I said nothing and continued to shake and cry. Dark memories from my past in the foster care system came flooding back, paralyzing me. My vision blurred.
He carried me to the courtyard of the training facility and sat me on a bench. He knelt in front of me and gently peeled my shaking hands away from my face.
“Breathe,” he ordered.
I flinched at the harshness in his tone. I tried to slow my breathing, but I could not stop taking short, jagged breaths. He looked at me curiously, then began to demonstrate. A slow inhale through the nose and a long exhale through the mouth. I matched his breathing until my panic attack subsided.
“Why did you run?” he demanded fiercely.
I hyperventilated a few more times, then began to breathe deeply. My vision sharpened. That was when I saw his gentle eyes fixed on me. It was a softness I had not expected from the General of the Kingdom of Flame. I took a deep breath and began to explain.
“I have some trauma from my past, and when you locked us together in the room alone and began touching me, I started to panic.” I'm not sure why I told him the truth. It's not something I talk about. Ever.
A sudden realization crossed the General’s face.
He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then sighed.
With a stern but compassionate tone, he explained, “Understand this, mortal. I have never trained a female before. I spend the majority of my time here amongst these warriors. I locked us in there to protect you, to make sure no one like that disturbed us.”
He looked extremely uncomfortable and glanced around as if checking whether anyone was close enough to hear.
“These… feelings… are not my area of expertise,” he continued.
“But I apologize that my touch made you uncomfortable. I was only trying to correct your form. I did not consider how vulnerable that situation must have made you feel.”
He seemed sincere, and maybe this was the first time he had ever been anything but brutal and tough. I nodded, accepting his apology.
“You must think I’m pretty weak and pathetic, don’t you?” I mumbled.
“Actually, the opposite. I know a warrior when I see one,” he said.
He paused, then explained, “Not all battles are fought in the skies.
Whatever you went through, you survived.
And now you have agreed to help save a world that is not your own, knowing the risks are high.
You are the only hope for our kingdom, Delilah.
That makes you my most important warrior… even if you are tiny."
“I’m not that tiny!” I defended playfully. He placed his
huge hand on top of my head.
“Do you even clear five feet? I’ve seen Fae-lings bigger than you,” he teased.
I scoffed. “I am five-three, thank you very much.”
He grinned. “You are a tiny warrior, Delilah, and don’t ever forget that.”
I respected this Cercies. He might be rough around the edges, handsy, and misogynistic, but he seemed to have a good heart when it really mattered. I couldn’t help but wonder who he might have been if he hadn’t been shaped by the kingdom that made him.
“I have an idea. Tomorrow, instead of coming here, I will shift my schedule and fly to the castle from now on. We will build your training around self-defense. I will teach you how to protect yourself, so you never have to feel vulnerable again.”
He then added with a grin, “You’ll be so fierce, even Titus will fear you.”
I chuckled at the sentiment. “I’d like that,” I said, smiling warmly.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” He stood and reached for my hand, helping me up off the bench. His touch was a bit rough, but I knew it was not on purpose.
Home, he called it. It was not my home, but I almost did not catch it. Every day I was here felt like I was decades away from my own realm, and all my memories of home had become less tangible.
Cercies’s dragon was the largest I had seen so far. Bright orange scales covered its body from tail to head, baring razor-sharp fangs-stained blood red. Its head bore a crown of spiked horns. His dragon made Rexius’s terrifying dragon look like a chew toy.
“This is Veyraxxies. He’s one of the oldest dragons in Nevaehun,” he said. The General placed his hand on my lower back, then quickly withdrew it, remembering not to touch me. He certainly was handsy.
He quickly apologized. “Sorry. Old habit. Don’t be scared of Veyraxxies. I won’t let him hurt you.”
I studied the large orange dragon. It looked at me with the same acknowledging stare the brown dragon and Zephyros had given me. I felt the same tingling sensation in my palms accompanied by a strange pull toward the dragon.
“I’m not scared,” I corrected Cercies plainly.
The orange beast lowered its head toward me and bent at the knee in my presence. Cercies watched with burning curiosity. “How are you doing that?” he asked.
“Doing what? Don’t all dragons act this way with you?” I asked.
“No, they don’t,” he replied, amazement edged with a hint of fear in his voice.
Just then, the massive orange beast lowered his membranous wing, creating a ramp just for me. I placed my tingling palm on his jaw, and the sensation in my mind intensified.
“Thank you, Veyraxxies,” I said aloud.
Then I heard the tiniest whisper in my head, not in words I heard, but in words I felt.
Veyraxxies: I serve the child made.
I froze. My breath caught in my chest. “What?” I whispered.
The dragon only watched me, ancient and knowing. I shook my head. I had to be imagining it.
I climbed up the wing with ease and sat in the front seat of the saddle.
Cercies followed and sat behind me. I had always found riding in a double saddle a bit awkward with Aurelius.
Cercies, being a significantly larger male, made the proximity between the two seats disappear.
His large muscular body pressed on my back, the pressure from his hips on my backside, made my breath hitch.
He inhaled deeply probably taking in my scent, it was evident he enjoyed the close proximity; I could feel just how much he enjoyed it, pressing against my ass. I couldn’t help but flinch.
“Fuck, I’m doing the best I can, but your body touching mine is distracting. I can send for Aurelius if you want,” he said.
Just wanting to get the fuck out of Dragons Maw, I rolled my eyes and huffed.
“Let’s just go.” I groaned.
With that, we ascended into the sky.