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“It will. Don’t say more than you must. You don’t know, so don’t speculate. Let them do it for you. It will give you both an added layer of protection.”He was right.
SIX
ZARIA
Unfamiliar sounds woke me from nightmares worse than I had ever experienced. I startled when I remembered the horrors my dreams had visited on me. I had to check on my family. See for myself that it was all a dream. But as I opened my eyes, I knew I was not in my home.
I rose while my eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light and the room. This was not my cramped chamber with the low ceiling and the crumbling stone floor. This was crisp, well-maintained stonework, and hanging curtains sectioning off my bed from the rest of the room. Instead of candles, there were little balls producing light. I squinted at them, trying to make out what in the Twelve Kingdoms they could be.
One of the curtains was pulled back to reveal open doors onto a balcony overlooking… I had no words. So many dwellings, such vast buildings that I could not imagine how many families must occupy them. The scale alone was alarming, but the fae. There were fae on the ground, on balconies. At a single glance, I could see more fae than I had ever seen in my life.
Strangers, all of them, with the Goddess only knew what for morals. I had heard about the places the fae in my village had left behind, and if this place was anything alike, I was deep within a den of sin. My chest heaved with the need to escape, and I looked around, trying to form a plan.
They had dressed me in a thin sleeping gown. Heat rose in my face as I considered how they dressed me this way without my knowing. The length of the gown was highly inappropriate, and I shot back within the room when I realized I could be seen in this state from many vantage points. The very thought scandalized me. I snatched the curtains and drew them across the door to shield myself from view and set about looking for my own clothes.
Still light-headed from all that had happened, I steadied myself on the bedpost and drew in a slow breath to calm my racing heart. The action set off a rattling cough, which forced me to a seat on the edge of the bed.
My chest and throat felt painfully raw, and I was weak from the coughing, confirming that my dream of the fire was real. I had truly seen my world destroyed, and with it all the ones I loved. Guilt flickered within me at how false that statement was. Had I truly loved them? Could you truly love fae who’d shown you nothing of the like in return.
In my heart I knew I was born of love, created by the Goddess to be the product of my parents’ love for each other, and in turn I was shaped by their love. But life at the compound was tough, the land was unforgiving, and necessities were in painfully short supply, so love was not a high priority. Survival was all that mattered.
They valued only those who could provide, and I was not among them. I could not be near the herbs we grew for trade, and even living in their proximity weakened me. I was a liability. Someone to feed and clothe who could offer nothing but swept floors and clean pots in return.
I knew my worth, and it was not the same as my worth to them. So I gave them the love due to them as my family, but it was not the full extent of the love I knew was within. A part of me always held the knowledge that I was not fully sincere in my offerings. And now they were gone and the guilt of having only loved with half my heart was crushing.
I wept with the weight if it all, letting the guilt, my sorrow, and my fear consume me for just one moment. It was all I could afford. I had to be strong now. I had to survive this new reality on my own.
I wiped my eyes and breathed away the emotion. I used the breathing technique I was taught by our healer when I was young. It helped when I had an attack brought on by the herbs. It calmed my body and my mind. When I felt stronger and clearer of mind, I stood.
That was when he spoke.
“Are you done?”
I gasped and turned to find him sitting in an armchair, looking for all the world like he ruled a kingdom of his own. He was fae in every way, but I knew in my heart it was him. The dragon who took me, the one with the jade eyes and the pull on my soul.
As I had been succumbing to the attack, I’d seen him with my own eyes change from the beast he was, into this male who now sat assessing. But even if that was just a hallucination of the herbs, I’d still know it was him. I could feel it. Much to my disgust and his obvious amusement, he was right. There was an almost tangible thread of connection between us.
“Well, that was easy. I was prepared for battle with you, but at least you aren’t being deliberately difficult. You admit you feel our connection. It’s a start.” He set his crossed leg to the floor and rose.
I dragged my eyes away from the defined cut of muscle that disappeared beneath the fabric of his pants. He was so tall, so…my mouth went dry as he approached. All the bronzed skin I’d glimpsed when he’d first changed was still on display. His pants the only clothing he had bothered to put on and they hung low on his sculpted hips. I dragged my eyes away from the defined cut of muscle that disappeared beneath the fabric of his pants, over a light trail of dark hair, hard muscles, a broad chest, a square jaw, and right to the glowing jade of his piercing eyes.
I baulked. I was only wearing this scrap of fabric, and he was shirtless and barefoot. I retreated to the other side of the bed, snatching up a blanket and holding it to my chest.
“What are you doing here—dressed like that?” It was the wrong question to ask, and I knew it as soon as his teeth appeared in his self-satisfied grin.
“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed, Sol?” He looked down at himself casually and then returned his intense gaze to mine, offering nothing else.
The Goddess have mercy. He was magnificent. The fae I had known were lean from hardship even if they were toned from hard work. A body like his had never seen such struggles, I thought as my gaze began to drift lower again.
“Sol?”
“Hmm?” I snapped my eyes to his, remembering he’d asked a question. The curl of his lips told me I wasn’t hiding my thoughts. Even if he was not able to hear them, I was certain they were written all over my face. Goddess spare me. What was the question? Oh, yes, his state of dress.
“It’s highly improper,” I snipped, deciding offense was better than defense. “You can’t be here unchaperoned and in a state of undress.” I pressed my lips together, chastising myself for again pointing out his clothing choice, or lack thereof. I did not want him thinking I had even noticed. He was nothing but my captor.
He chuckled. Again. It was becoming a highly annoying habit of his.
“There you go again with those fascinating dragon’s captive ideas of yours. Tell me, are they a new thing, or have you always fantasized about being kept by a mighty beast?”
