CHAPTER 18
“What you use from our binding, you must replenish. The easiest way is through sleep. Dreams hold great power that can be consumed to replenish you. Find yourself a reálti, your guiding star, who can watch over you when your physical body needs rest.”
“Who should I pick?” Patriol’s face swam through my mind. I had been gone less than three weeks, but already I missed my brother fiercely.
“Whomever you trust. When you sleep, I will meet you in the Dream Realm.”
—Recounting from the private diary of Jerris, Dragonbound
INRAEN PRISONER
Early Autumn, Tuskimon 1036
As prisons went, this one wasn’t too bad, not that I had much experience on the topic. The cell was relatively clean, there was a station for necessities and a window that let in light and fresh air. All it needed was an extra blanket, and a man could do just fine in a place like this.
Being captured was something of a low point in my life. The last thing I remembered was fire.
No—that wasn’t right. It was a campfire, yes. A campfire in the distance. I thought it would lead…somewhere. Somewhere important.
Before the campfire, the last thing I remembered was fighting. We were in a battle, and it was dire. We should’ve all died, but I survived. How? I must have escaped. Or been spared?
I remembered a blow to the head. It was scabbed over and healing now, tender to the touch and itchy.
I tested it, shaking my head until my eyeballs threatened to wobble out of my skull.
That probably accounted for the gap in my memory.
My shoulder, on the other hand, I remembered well.
The blade plunging in alongside that feeling, that deep knowing, that it was somehow a mercy.
They had yet to ask my name. Or familial connections, or homestead, or militia station, or much of anything of consequence.
All they’d done so far was clean and bandage my wounds.
I wasn’t even quite sure where they’d taken me, other than the general impression that it was in Rihtlond based on the accents and dress of the medics and guards.
But this cell was fairly nice, as prisons went, and there wasn’t much at home to miss.
A door creaked open, and soft footfalls echoed down the hall and stopped at my cell.
“Well, well, well, aren’t you a pretty thing?”
I scoffed. No one had ever called me pretty before. I met the man’s gaze—one of my captors—and rolled my eyes as dramatically as my head would allow.
“Come now, surely you have a wonderfully important name and station.”
I shrugged.
“How shall I know what to call you, then?”
One thing I knew—keeping everything I could to myself would help keep me alive.
If they thought I was important, I was only as good as the ransom.
If they thought I wasn’t, I was only as good as the information I held.
Right now, with this fog settled over my brain, I had neither of those things going for me.
“Not a talker? What a pity. With a face like yours, I could spend all day talking to you.”
“Rather forward with a man you don’t know.”
“Is it me being male or me being foreign that bothers you?”
I looked up at that. The stranger had a handsome face, hair that would probably be blond if it weren’t cast in shadow, and a smile on his lips that was a little too suggestive.
“What’s my incentive to talk? Isn’t the first rule of imprisonment, keep your silence?”
“My, my, I don’t want you to think of it like that. We’re all rather civilized over here.”
“And where exactly in Rihtlond is here?”
“You answer mine, and I’ll answer yours.” His smile spread as I pressed my lips together. “We’ll start small. Give me a reason to trust you, and I’m sure I can do something about your current…accommodations.”
I got to my feet, despite the slight tremor in my head, and looked the stranger in the eye. He was a few inches taller, forcing me to angle my head upward at him. I couldn’t tell if it was that motion or his piercing blue eyes that made me unsteady.
“I think you’ll find that trust goes both ways.”
He smirked, and the lock to the cell door clicked open. He pushed his way inside revealing a full package every bit as delectable as his face.
“Lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world to get us there.”
SERAE
Early Autumn, Tuskimon 1036
By training, my mood had turned from foul to worse.
I’d been on the receiving end of undeserved ire before.
Fire and ash, I had Merria as a sister, didn’t I?
But I didn’t deserve having that venomous snake set on me first thing in the morning.
Especially not from Ell. His playful banter and taunting comments were one thing, but this?
I was jittery and fuming as I took my usual place by Teke and Ivank.
“Let it go,” Teke whispered when I stumbled for the third time during a simple earth dowsa warmup.
I shook out my arms and reset. I hoped we would spend the day outside practicing archery, the one thing where I needed the least guidance, but the weather made that prospect slim.
“Sparring,” Wep announced. I could feel his eyes on me, judging me. “Pairs today are”—I cringed—“Teke with Raif, Ivank with Lex, Helene with Lispen, Serae with me.”
Fuck.
Of course, he would pick me today. He usually paired with Lispen or Raif—the best in the class. Helene or Ivank might get selected if he was demonstrating how to overcome size. It was only my turn when Wep decided I needed punishment.
The room rearranged, and I moved to the front.
“What did I do now?” I snapped.
He stood there, arms crossed and towering over me. It should have been intimidating, but my body reacted to him in a completely different way.
“Guilty conscience?”
I took stance. “Should I have one?”
He lunged, locking me in one of the dozen holds we were practicing breaking—this one a simple grip of the wrists.
“I’m sorry,” he said, low enough that only I could hear.
“For what?” Blood and bones, he regrets the kiss. The one I couldn’t keep out of my mind. The one where, if I hadn’t had a busted ankle, I’d have straddled his lap in a whole different way. I rolled my wrists, breaking his hold and jumping back to reset.
He grunted. “I heard about breakfast.”
“Oh, that. Not your fault. She’s had it out for me since I got here.”
“Before, actually,” Wep muttered.
“Before what?”
He lunged again, this time gripping me around the middle, my back crushed against his chest.
“Your brother,” I asked instead, “he likes to make trouble, doesn’t he?”
“Ell’s a fucking prick.”
I flung my head back, all but useless against him, though it did force him to loosen his grip.
I stomped down on his toe. He sidestepped, but that second he was between feet gave me just enough leeway to drop and roll out of his grip.
I threw a quick jab of my elbow to his gut, but he anticipated and tensed.
I may as well have elbowed a wall instead of his abs, but I was still free.
“Good. Again.”
“So, I’m not in trouble? We’re still friends?” I asked, grinning like a cat.
The smile slid from his face, and he stilled. “Is that what you want?” he asked.
“I—” What? I clamped my jaw shut. My eyes flew to the others, but they were all focused on their own matches.
My whole body began to tingle and ache. It was madness making me wonder if it would be wrong to fling myself into his arms right in the middle of training.
A leaf tumbled out of my sleeve onto the mat, breaking my focus.
“Is that you?”
Vaya’la remained quiet. I focused on the connection to her mind, tunneling into that other world. I lay in the blue-violet grass, basking in the glow of the red sun. A deep sensation of peace washed over me.
Wep sighed. “Forget I asked.”
“No, I—”
“It wasn’t a fair question.”
I swallowed whatever response I was trying to give.
“Your hold-breaking needs work. Let’s continue.”
“Fine,” I said, a crooked grin spreading across my face. “So, you’re saying today, you want us to fight?”
Wep arched one eyebrow, that wicked mouth of his mirroring my grin. “Yes.”
We spent the next hour stepping through one escape after the next.
Everything from wrist holds to being pinned down on the ground.
Based on the smirks the rest of my ranng were shooting me, we must’ve been putting on a fucking show.
When I couldn’t understand how to use my hips to rotate out of a single-arm wrist hold, he gripped my hips from behind to guide me through the motion.
He didn’t need to follow up by pressing my backside into him, fusing our hips so I could feel the movement through his body, but I wasn’t complaining.
We were the only pair to work on anything besides standing holds.
The biggest problem? Having any bit of Wep’s weight on me wasn’t something I wanted to escape from.
I practiced headbutting him from the less-than-advantageous angle and learned how to curl my legs beneath him to shove him off.
I took it one step further and wrapped my legs around his torso, forcing him onto his back.
Gripping my thighs, he shifted me lower, destroying my already frazzled composure—especially when I felt his arousal pressing into me through his leathers.
While I was distracted by his touch, he shot up, flipping me beneath him to start again.
By the end, I was panting, sweaty, and nowhere near satisfied.
The sky was still gray beyond the windows, but at least the rain had lifted along with my mood.
I had every intention of staying back after training to do dragons-knew-what, when Bracht entered.
He beelined for Wep, pulled him aside, and whispered something that had both men agitated.