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Yoren refused to be pacified. “They could have hurt you. I shouldn’t have left.”
She put a hand on his bearded cheek. “My father used to tell me that the most noble thing a person can do is everything that they can. You protected your daughters and you came back for me. Don’t put yourself down.”
Not when there are beings with far greater power that choose not to use it.
As much as she had wanted to get away, stepping back into her room at the i
One season—that was how long she had known him, but she already felt bound to him on a level that felt almost spiritual. It was as though he had created a whole new chamber of her heart, but it could only beat for him. Somehow, he had become the most essential and necessary thing in her world.
It was terrifying.
Undressing to her bedclothes, Madja tied her hair into a long braid. She drew the cotton blankets back on her side of the bed, but paused. Then, she padded around to Sevrrn’s side, sitting down on the small space that remained on the side of the bed.
The bed was by no means small, but Sevrrn’s large body still took up most of the space. While in his dragon form, he tended to curl into himself; in human form Sevrrn sprawled out, arms and limbs in every which direction.
Scant beams of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a blue-grey glow on his face. It softened his features, making him look placid and almost gentle—a cruel trick of the light.
His nostrils flared and in the next instant, his face hardened and his garnet eyes snapped open.
“Where have you been?” It was more a demand than a question.
“A lot of places,” she said, a little breathless. She had never known him to wake before dawn, no matter how much noise she made or how much she moved around. “I had quite the adventure tonight.”
“I have not been sleeping long enough for you to have any adventures.” He sat up, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you smell like men?”
Madja stood, preparing to return to her side of the bed. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it tom—”
Without warning, his hand closed around one of her wrists. With too much force, he jerked her back, all but throwing her onto the bed. In one swift, predatory motion, he was on top of her, his large body caging her in.
“You will tell me now.”
She sighed, trying not to let on how much his display of aggression u
Sevrrn didn’t seem to find any part of that fu
“They touched you.”
She squirmed uncomfortably. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”
His head lowered to sniff her neck, and then, her breasts. Madja stiffened.
“What are you—it wasn’t like that. Those men couldn’t have raped me if they wanted to.”
‘Raped’ had been a poor choice of words. The moment it left her lips, his grip tightened to the point of pain. It wasn’t the hurts-so-good type of pain she normally associated with the dragon, but a level of pain that threatened injury.
“You will not leave my sight again.” A warning.
“Will you let go of me?” she asked, but even in her wholly subdued state, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “And technically, I didn’t leave your sight. You were sleeping.”
Sevrrn swiftly countered, “You are never to go where I am not.”
Never. The word cut her to the bone.
“What am I, your slave?”
“You are mine.”
With her free hand, she grabbed his wrist, squeezing as tightly as she could. Her nails bit into his flesh in a vain attempt to cause him pain, because there was nothing she could say to hurt him as much as he was hurting her.
“I told you before, I am not one of your trinkets.”
She hadn’t realized that they were shouting at one another until there was a soft knock at the door. They both froze as they heard the nervous voice of the i
“Is everything all right in there?”
No, nothing is all right.
“We’re fine,” Madja said weakly. “Thank you.”
The young woman excused herself, but lingered at the door for another moment. When they could hear the sound of her footsteps heading down the hallway, Sevrrn released Madja’s wrist. Appearing to come back to his senses, he rolled off her.
“We will be returning to the mountain at first light. I have had enough of this town.”
Not willing to start another fight, Madja turned on her side to face away from him. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. What would be the point?
Never before had she felt so unbearably human.
7
Sevrrn was already awake the next morning and Madja sensed that he hadn’t slept. Remarkably, exhaustion had claimed her quickly. But despite a few hours of rest, she felt hollow inside and out.
They ate a quick breakfast and bid the i
Only the fishermen were awake as they set out, and Madja could still hear them laughing and singing in the distance as she and Sevrrn passed through the town gates. She followed a few paces behind Sevrrn, like a trout on his line.
It was nearly noon when her resentment had simmered down enough to speak with him.
“They lit fireworks for you last night. They were amazing.”
Sevrrn kept his eyes on the forest trail. Raindrops fell steadily from the grey sky, but somehow, he remained dry.
“The Firelight Festival?”
Eyes widening, she picked up the pace to walk alongside of him. “You were there?”
“If I had been awake, I would have to find you,” he said, all but glaring. “I was asleep, but I know of the festival. It used to be every year and it would last a week. It is why I made this human form.”
“To go to the festival?”
“In ancient times, I would bend the light around myself and watch the festival from the sky. But I was curious to know why the humans worshiped me, and so I made this body so that I could walk among them. It is how I learned their languages and some of their customs.”
Madja realized that this was one of the only times he had ever spoken about his past with her, which in turn prompted a question. Why?
She had always known he was old. He was one of the four original dragons—Sevrrn the golden dragon, Valdyra the red, Belphinir the green, and Kael the black. They were living legends and fabled to be as old as the world itself. In the vast expanse of his lifetime, Sevrrn must have seen and experienced so much. Yet for some reason, he seemed to live entirely in the present.
“You never told me that,” she said.
He said again, “It used to be every year, The Firelight Festival. Now it is one night—and that is only when they need me.”
“If you protect Erda, they’ll be talking about it for centuries,” she said in an attempt to appeal to his ego.
Sevrrn made a sound that was almost a laugh. “All it will take is two generations and then they will grow lax in their worship. They will forget about me until they need me again.”