Again Adrissu rolled his eyes. The request, though reasonable, reeked of juvenile pettiness. But if giving it to her would get her to leave, it would be a small price to pay.
“Stay here,” he said, watching her with narrowed eyes as he took a few steps back, not turning to face the tower until he felt his foot make contact with the first stone step.
He unlocked the door and ducked inside quickly, taking the stairs two at a time as he headed up to his study. Vesper watched him suspiciously from the top of the stairs.
“Just me,” he sighed, stepping over her. “She’ll be gone soon.”
“Adrissu?” Braern’s voice called from above. “Is everything alright?”
“It’s alright, love,” he answered, though he could hear the sharp edge in his own voice, in spite of his attempts at reassurance. “I’m just getting something. Stay up there a little longer. I’ll be right back.” The elf did not answer, but Adrissu could hear the dull sound of his footsteps pacing the floor above.
Though his study was not as neat and tidy as it had been when he lived alone, all his most valuable components were carefully documented and organized, the dwarven beryl bowl among them. He found the crate where it was stored, wrapped in parchment paper that was tied neatly with twine, and did not bother to put the crate back in its place as he carried the little bowl back down and out the door.
Closer, Vesper warned, just in time for him to open the door and see that Heriel had walked nearer, now only six feet from the doorway.
“Here,” he said, holding it out to her unceremoniously. She snatched it from his hand and made a big show of unwrapping it, until the deep red of the beryl peeked out from beneath the plain paper, sparkling in the sunlight. Her hands stilled, as she looked at it for a moment—then, just as quickly, she re-wrapped it and placed it in the traveling bag slung around her shoulder.
“You will be hated for this,” she finally said, looking back up into his face. Something in her expression seemed less hard, less cruel, but he did not know what that meant. “Any dragon who finds out about this will shun you at best, or try to kill you and your mate, at worst. To allow a human to know our ways...”
“I have no desire to be part of draconic society,” he replied curtly, but she shook her head.
“It’s not only about that,” she said, her voice dropping low and urgent. “If it gets out how few dragon souls there really are in the world—what you’ve done, bringing a human into our cycle, it could unbalance everything. It could spur mortals into a real effort to eradicate us once and for all.”
Adrissu scoffed. The belief that there were only a handful of dragon souls in existence at any one time—no more than a hundred, which simply cycled through different bodies to be reborn when one dragon was slain—had gained some traction in the past centuries amongst draconic society. But as far as Adrissu was concerned, there was no evidence that pointed toward such a belief being rooted in reality. He put no stock in such a superstition.
“I cannot say I share your belief that the souls of our kind have a limited number,” he replied, and she scoffed. “And obviously my mate has no desire to see me harmed or found out. If mortals do decide to someday mount a true defense against the presence of dragons in the world, it will not be because of me. I have lived here in peace as an elf for nearly two hundred years, and I have no intention of doing anything else for several more generations.”
Heriel shook her head, eyes growing cold again. “On your own head be it, then,” she sighed, taking a step back while still facing him. “Naydruun is more honorable than I, and promised not to spread word of your... unusual situation. I make no such promise. If any other dragons grow suspicious of you, Zamnes, I will not deny what I’ve learned here. I would advise you to make your position as an elven scholar a permanent one.”
The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air between them.
“Luckily, I have no desire or intention of being part of draconic society, as I said before,” Adrissu growled, anger flaring up again. He had treated her with such respect when he was in her territory, and this was how she repaid him? Threatening him on his own doorstep? “Let me make you a promise as well, one I made to Naydruun. I have not harmed either them, nor you, out of respect and gratitude for the kindness you showed me. In light of that I’ll let you leave, despite how rudely you’ve behaved here today.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he lifted a silencing hand and continued before she could speak. “But just as I told Naydruun, if I ever see you again, Iwillkill you. I do not care what you did for me before, not any longer. You’ve made your true colors known, and I have no more qualms about whatever misplaced loyalty I might have thought you deserved. Our business is done, and you will no longer be welcome in my territory. Either of you.”
Heriel’s face had flushed red—probably with anger, but a small, petty part of him hoped she felt ashamed of how far she’d overstepped the boundaries that draconic custom had placed on her in their interaction.
“Go,” he said curtly, turning away. “Before I change my mind.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Adrissuwasonedgefor several days after his unpleasant interaction with Heriel, but luckily neither she, nor any other dragons came again. For now, at least, it seemed he could continue to live his life in peace.
The next week, Braern slept in later than usual, and he was irritable and tired when he woke. When he did get up, he sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, squinting and blinking in the morning light; then he scowled, groaned, and pressed his hands to his face.
“What’s the matter?” Adrissu asked, frowning. “Are you sick?” Braern did not reply at first, so Adrissu took a step toward him, reaching out to feel his forehead—but Braern swatted his hand away quickly.
“It’s not that,” he muttered, though his face looked warm. “I just... I’m going into heat. It’s been over a year so it took me by surprise, I guess.”
Adrissu froze, his hand still hovering in the air between them, as he processed Braern’s words. He had known male elves went through heats, of course, but had not entirely known what to expect. With how long they’d been together, he had quietly thought that perhaps Braern did not go into heat any longer, since he had mentioned not being able to conceive, and Adrissu did not want to make him uncomfortable by asking about it. But evidently, he had been wrong.
“I see,” Adrissu finally said, shaking himself and sitting down next to Braern. “Well... I don’t entirely know what to expect. What will you need from me?”
“I’m just going to be a horny mess,” Braern sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “Probably by the end of the day, or maybe tomorrow morning, is when it will be the worst. But mine usually only last a day or so.”
“I’ll clear my schedule tomorrow and the day after, then,” Adrissu said. Braern shook his head.
“No, no, it’s okay,” he stammered, his face burning red. “If you don’t want to—I can just deal with it on my own. I’ll be alright. It’s uncomfortable, but I can just hide out in my room—”
