Jealous
Drokahr
Burning rage simmered in my chest, blurring my vision. I marched through the tents and straight into the forest. I needed distance. Now. My anger threatened to spill over, and I refused to let her see it.
I broke into a sprint, pushing myself farther and farther away from camp. Her laughter echoed in my head. The way that human had made her laugh.
My teeth clenched.
I ripped an old tree stump from the ground and threw it, smashing it against a tree. Wood splintered. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to tear the forest apart, rip boulders from the earth, burn everything down.
Why hadn’t she laughed with me? Why hadn’t I been enough?
We had spent most of the past days together. I bathed her. Fed her. Gave her shelter, a bed. What did it take to earn such a beautiful expression, directed at me?
A heavy feeling settled in my chest—one I couldn’t name. It dulled the rage, left something hollow behind. Shame followed close behind.
I had left her alone.
Was she still with that human?
A warrior of the Kheelan Clan was always in control of his feelings. Yet she made me act like an undisciplined youngling, reckless and unfocused.
I needed to return.
I slowed to a walk, forcing my breathing steady as I made my way back. I went first to the training grounds. Empty. She was gone. The human too.
Was she with him now?
“Drokahr.”
I turned. Rohen stood behind me—Solkar’s right hand, a seasoned warrior. His expression was hard.
“Heard about what happened today,” he said sharply. “Care to explain?”
“I—” No explanation came. None that would justify my behaviour.
“You know better than that,” he cut in. “Whatever this was, it does not happen again.”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
I exhaled slowly and headed back to my tent, grateful he hadn’t pressed further. I had no answers to give.
Soft light glowed through the hide as I approached.
I hesitated.
Inside, candles burned. She stood there, already moving towards me, asking where I had been. Her voice held worry. For me.
I brushed past her, unsure what to say.
Two bowls of stew rested on the table. She must have fetched them herself. I had expected anger. Accusation.
Instead, she looked… sad.
“You and that human male—” I started, then stopped. Hearing his name from her lips made something twist inside me.
She spoke calmly, explaining what had happened, what they had talked about. No hesitation. No guilt.
I felt like a fool.
I couldn’t meet her gaze. I called myself a warrior, yet didn’t dare to look this tiny creature in the eye, afraid of what I might see there.
How could someone so small carry such weight?
Then she touched me. Her hand rested on my thigh.
I froze.
I looked down.
A gentle smile. Kind eyes.
I took it all in, unwilling to let the moment end. I kept her close until it was time to sleep.
She turned towards her cot.
That cursed thing.
I grabbed it and hurled it outside.