Dangerous.Me.I almost laugh at the absurdity. The power dynamic in this scenario decidedly puts me at the bottom, beneath a band of terrifying dragons with deadly teeth, beneath a generations-long war that could fill an ocean with blood, beneath all things magic, but the contention is nothing new.
I am different, and different things are to be feared and named Dangerous.
“Settle yourself, Arvos. Eventually she will go back to her own kind.”
And that stings for reasons it shouldn’t, especially considering I will be leaving tomorrow.
“Letting her go puts us all at risk.” The implication is clear. Arvos does not believe I can remain here...and yet I can’t be released.
Can’t stay. Can’t go. A deep, viscous breath chokes in my throat. Only death is left.
“We live in perilous times,” Tage says dismissively. “If it isn’t the skelm, it’s invading soldiers or vicious harpies, or spellcasting witches...or any number of creatures. Every moment of our livesisrisk. It’s unavoidable.”
“Exceptsheis avoidable,” Arvos argues.
“Not to me she isn’t.”
I inhale sharply, moving trembling fingers to my lips.
“I’ve followed you for years, not just because you’re the fastestand the strongest among us but because you’re the smartest. Now though...you’re thinking with something other than your head. Move her out of your den, Tage. Take a mate. Grow this pride. That is right. Danhy has been waiting for you to—”
“I don’t want to bond with Danhy. You or Viggo would be better suited to her.”
“She doesn’t want us,” Arvos speaks up. “She wants you.”
“She may change her mind in time...once she realizes I am not changing mine,” Tage retorts.
There’s a scuffing sound, like a boot sliding on the ground, and I panic, convinced one of them is heading around the corner toward me. Desperate not to be caught eavesdropping, I flee down the tunnel. No one is waiting in the great room. None of the others are around, and I’m grateful. I’m in no mood to confront any of them.
I take refuge in Tage’s den and wait for him, my heart rate steadying, his words playing over and over through my mind.Not to me she isn’t.
I ready for bed, using the fresh water in the basin and changing into one of Tage’s clean tunics that hangs well past my knees. I use his jewel-handled brush, dragging it through my hair with hands that still have a slight shake to them.
The way he stood up for me against his own...I have a flash of him battling for life with Cyphus, and something sour winds through me. He could have died.
It makes the idea of leaving this place, him, all the more imperative. And painful.
Me here. With him. It only makes his life harder.
None of the others want me here, and he stands to lose everything if I remain.
And yet...
No one ever stood up for me the way he did. Or made me feel special and wanted and, most importantly, not so alone.
The pelt hanging over the threshold parts and he steps inside, the space instantly smaller with his body filling it. He idly caresses the large garnet stone jutting from the wall near the doorway as hepasses inside the den. I’ve seen him do this before. His wide palm covers it for a long beat, and then he finishes with a final stroke of his fingers. An unthinking move on his part, and I recall his words about gems sustaining dragons and I wonder if the simple touch revitalizes him.
I stand at attention, my heart a wild bird in my chest, looking for a way out.
He stills, the pelt swishing into place behind him. “You’re still awake.”
“I am,” I agree, also stating the obvious. I lower the brush to the table, setting it down. I nervously smooth shaking fingers over the ornate handle.
We stand apart for several moments, and then he steps deeper into the den, removing his shoulder fur and tossing it aside. He sinks to the bed and takes off his arm guards, one after the other. I watch for a moment and then I join him, moving forward carefully until I’m bending to remove one of his boots, tugging it off and then reaching for the next. He holds still, watching me as I do this for him with a burning intensity I feel like the sun.
He whispers my name. “Arden.”
I look up at him, one hand on his knee and the other on his calf as I wait for him to say whatever it is he’s going to say. His gaze holds fast to me, the violet-black pools of his eyes fathomlessly deep. I feel like a stone sinking into a deep well.
