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“We already discussed this. I am taking you to the Ice Mountains.”
Pursing my lips, I roll my eyes. “Iknowthat,” I state exaggeratedly. “But we certainly will not make it in one day, right?”
He nods.
“So, where are we staying tonight?”
“I will find a place for us to shelter before sundown.”
His answer suggests he does not have a plan. He’s just figuring it out as he goes along too. I would be worried, but he is a Dragon. And he’s already shown that he wants to protect me, even if I still don’t entirely understand why. And we haven’t discussed his statement when he said I was his.
I want to ask, but I do not want to distract him. Not while he’s trying to find somewhere for us to stay. The Ice Mountains rise in the distance, their peaks disappearing in the thick cloud cover above. I shudder inwardly. As cold as it is here, I wonder how much more so it will be when we get there.
A line of smaller mountains looms before us. While not as tall as the ones he calls home, they still appear rather formidable. A yawning cave mouth ahead draws my attention, and he points toward it. “We will shelter there.”
When we reach the cave, he stops just outside the entrance. Tipping his head up, he draws in a deep breath. “I do not scent anyone or anything else in this cavern. It should be safe.”
He walks inside and sets me down near the wall while he arranges a series of stones in a large circle. I wonder what he’s doing but assume he must be prepping the area for a fire. “I saw some branches outside,” I offer. “And a few smaller sticks we can use for kindling.”
A slight smirk twists his lips as he steps back. He opens his mouth and blows fire on the rocks. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s doing, but then I notice the glowing crystals embedded in the stone. “L’sair,” I murmur.
He dips his chin. “The Dwarves mine it from these mountains. It should keep us warm through the night.”
It also provides a soft glow throughout the cavern, allowing me to see further inside. L’sair crystals are highly sought after as a safer alternative to fire. They can provide light and heat to a space for several hours. Because of this, it’s also somewhat expensive, and not everyone can afford to use it.
He moves back to my side and then hoists me to his chest, carrying me to the middle of the stone circle. It’s surprisingly warm and I’m no longer shivering. “Thank you.”
Aurdyn sits across from me and reaches for my legs. I pull away and he goes still, cocking his head to the side. “Do you still think I mean to harm you?”
He’s right. My fear of him is ridiculous at this point. Aurdyn has had any number of times he could have hurt me, but he didn’t. I meet his gaze evenly. “I know you will not hurt me.” He studies me and I feel compelled to explain. “It is simply instinct now, I think. I—” I start but stop as the words catch in my throat. The memory of my time in the dungeon is still fresh in my mind. “I was treated rather… roughly by the guards when I was imprisoned,” I finally explain.
His gaze hardens as I rub at the faded red marks on my wrists from where I was shackled. He pulls the salve from our pack. Cautiously, he wraps one large hand around my forearm and uses his other to apply the medicine to my skin. “I should have treated these earlier,” he murmurs, taking great care to apply it gently and evenly.
“They do not hurt.” His eyes flick up to mine, narrowing. “At least… not as much as the memory of how they got there,” I add.
Aurdyn dips his chin in an almost imperceptible nod and then carefully unwraps the bandages from my legs. I suck in a sharp breath at the sight of my fully healed skin. Tears sting my eyes at the faint scars that now mar my flesh. Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I force myself to straighten and brush away the lines of moisture that track down my cheeks. It could have been worse. I would be dead right now if not for Aurdyn saving me.
Two claw tipped fingers lift my chin as Aurdyn forces my gaze to his. A deep frown creases his brow. “Does it still hurt?”
How do I explain that my pain is not from my physical wounds, but from the ones that are scored across my very heart? I shake my head and then place my hand over my chest. “It only hurts here now.”
I’m not sure why I said that out loud or why I felt comfortable enough to lay my feelings out before him—so raw and vulnerable. Perhaps it’s because we are alone. I’ve heard forced proximity can bond two people very quickly.
But I rather suspect it is because he tended my physical injuries with such care that my heart had decided to instinctively trust him with the ones deep within—the ones that cannot be seen but are felt just as acutely.
“All that time in the dungeon, I could not understand why my uncle would treat me like that. Why he would allow his guards to hurt—” My voice catches, and I draw in a shaking breath. “I cannot stop seeing his face as he watched me up there on the platform, tied to the stake.”
I swallow against the lump rising in my throat. I do not want to dissolve into a crying mess.
“How did you come to live with him?” Aurdyn asks. “What happened to your parents?”
“My father and mother were both warriors.” A wistful smile crests my lips. “It is how they met. As brother to the King, my father was in charge of Ruhaen’s army. I was just a child when we went to visit the fortress at Uslo, along our northern border. The kingdom of Morath attacked while we were there, and my parents rode off to defend our lands.” I turn my gaze to the far wall, remembering the last time I saw them. “They never came back.”
A maelstrom of emotions churns deep within, but I push down my sadness as I continue. “They managed to drive back the invaders in only two days. When it was over, and word returned of their deaths, my uncle came for me immediately. He has raised me as his own since then. He was as a father to me, Aurdyn. And I understand now that he was under Luria’s spell, but it hurts just the same.” My voice breaks on the last word. I bite my bottom lip to stop it from quivering, unable to speak through my sadness.
“The heart seldom ever heals as quickly as the flesh,” Aurdyn murmurs, taking my hand gently in his. Something about the way he says this, tells me he speaks from experience.
“What happened to you?” I ask softly.
