by Ashley Frost
He stilled.
She dropped the towel onto the bucket. “Greta told me about the process. She told me it causes you pain.”
A low growl rumbled from his throat. “I told her to keep quiet about it.”
“You shouldn’t keep things like this from me.”
“And what? Make you feel more pressured and worried all the time? No, Constance, I wanted you to feel relaxed and safe and protected here. I don’t want you feeling like you need to bond with me just because it makes me weaker.” He caressed her cheek. “I knew that if you did, you’d only become more afraid of me. That’s no way to build trust.”
“I’m not afraid of you now, remember?.”
He searched her eyes, leaning closer. She didn’t want to wait for a verdict. She pressed her lips onto his and wrapped her arms around his neck. His reaction was instantaneous. Rayse pushed himself against her. His breathing became heavier. The intensity of it all came in a sudden rush. It was almost as if he had released everything he was holding back in that instance.
“Constance,” he breathed, carrying her up into his arms. Their lips still interlocked. She tried not to let go, and only did so for brief moments for air. She buried her fingers into his hair. He brought her into the bedroom and placed her onto the bed. Her back sunk into the soft sheets.
“I love you,” she said, not really comprehending the gravity of her words.
He smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” He brushed his lips over her ear before biting it.
The lust was taking over, but she didn’t care. This time, it wasn’t just her silly soul instinct wanting to have him. She wanted him all on her own.
“I love you too.”
Then, he collapsed.
It happened so suddenly, she couldn’t process it. One second, his eyes were watching her lovingly. The next, they rolled back into their sockets before shutting. The weight of him slumped against her. Was he playing a trick?
“Rayse,” she gasped, shaking him. He didn’t move. “Rayse!” Panic shot through her in a wave of lightning. She had to do something, fast. In her weeks of training as a dragon healer, she hadn’t come across an instance of a dragon fainting. It wasn’t normal for their kind. Not even the books mentioned such symptoms. Why was he lying motionless in front of her? Everything was going so well. She placed a hand on his forehead and quickly withdrew it. His heat nearly scalded her.
“Greta,” she said. “I need to call for Greta.”
It required considerable effort to push him off her. She tried to be gentle, but he was muscular and heavy. Her much smaller frame couldn’t withstand his weight. She couldn’t be delicate about it, and pushed as hard as she could.
He finally fell aside and onto his back.
He looked so peaceful just lying there. One would think he had simply fallen asleep.
Worry almost crippled her. This shouldn’t be happening . Rayse was supposed to be safe now that he was home.
She called for Nanili to watch over Rayse, then grabbed a lantern and sprinted toward the infirmary.
CHAPTER NINE
12 years ago
Constance forced her feet to move faster, but they had reached their limit.
“Get back here, you godsdamned brat!”
She was going to get caught. And she knew what happened to the thieves who allow themselves to get caught. Regardless of their age, the officials strung some of them up and displayed their bodies on the streets, others had their hands cut off and were left to die. Or worse—as a girl, she could be sent back to the brothels. Everndale’s guards weren’t nice to criminals. But she had to steal to survive. She had no one to take care of her now that Mother was gone.
Run. Hide. Run.
She didn’t want to go back to the brothel. Once her mother died, the other whores constantly beat and abused her. She lived with it, knowing a few scars and bruises would heal. She did their chores and acted as a maid. The last straw was when they threw her into a room with an old, wiry man. Child prostitution was forbidden, but whoever paid the coin could get whatever they wanted. He touched her in places she didn’t want to think about. The memory made her want to take a long, cold shower. Luckily, she managed to kick him squarely between his legs and run out the window before he got too far.
Run. Hide. Run.
Other old, wiry men would try to do the same things to her again if the guards caught and sent her back.
She ran into an alleyway. Bad move. It only led to a dead end. The guards would catch her if she ran back out into the streets. She didn’t have any more time.
A hand grabbed her and dragged her through a door.
Was it a guard? She panicked and unsheathed the small knife she kept with her.
“You weren’t supposed to get caught,” Rew said.
She breathed relief and sheathed the knife. “Oh, it’s you.” She studied her surroundings. “You own a house? Why don’t we live here?”
He rolled his eyes and shoved her with the back of his knife. Rew always carried a weapon with him. He made sure every one of their crew members did, too. “I don’t own a house, you nut. We had to sneak in here after following you through the rooftops. Do you know how much of a pain that was?”
Only then did she notice the elderly couple being held at knifepoint by her crew mates. They were huddled up against a wall. She heard the guards shouting for her outside. The shouting calmed after a while. They must have given up.
“Thanks,” she said.
Rew snatched the sack of apples from her hand. “Your payment. I helped you meet your food quota for this month with our difficult stunt. You better be thankful. I was considering banishing you from this crew and leaving you to run around on your own if you didn’t pay up today.” He took an apple out of the sack and took a huge, juicy bite. Then he threw each of the other crew members an apple.
She stared at him eagerly.
Mid-chew, he said, “Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, you’re expecting one?” He picked an apple up.
She reached her hand out.
“You’re not getting one.”
Her shoulders drooped when he put it back into the sack. She hadn’t had anything to eat for three days. The crew wouldn’t feed her because Rew decided she had yet to prove her worth this month.
“Tell you what,” he said. “If you get us more food tomorrow, I might just decide to let you eat.”
Her stomach grumbled. “But—”
His knife fell on her neck. “But?” The cool metal lay leveled against her skin. If he pushed a little harder…
“But nothing,” she said, nearly wetting herself. Rew wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. Life was worthless on the streets. She was nothing but another insect waiting to be squashed. Street rats like her lived as dimming lights, flickering to nothing as frequently as candles. Rew had lost so many teammates, she doubted he’d care if another one died. She had seen him cut down other members when they got out of line before.
“Good.” He took another bite of the apple. “You’re getting too bold, Constance. Remember what I always tell you?”
“Be afraid.”
“Yes!” he said, so loudly it made her startle. “Be terrified. You spent too long at the fruit stall today. That’s how the guards spotted you. You got overconfident and decided to take one too many apples. You have to be afraid. That’s the way you survive as a rat. You run, hide, run, and steal. When there’s trouble, you turn the other way and take your legs as far as they can. You don’t confront your obstacles. You avoid them at all costs.” He narrowed his eyes. “That’s why you shouldn’t speak up to me now.” The cold, metal knife pressed into her throat. A small cut formed. It stung. “Got it?”
“Got it.” She inched her head downward, quivering and unable to properly nod due to the fear of cutting herself.
“That’s my girl.” Rew smiled, wiping his knife. “I’m glad you agree and I don’t have to kill you. I’ll tell you a secret, I actually like you. So do
n’t make me sad by having to bloody my hands, okay?”
***
Present Day
“Stop worrying, child,” Greta said, taking the thermometer out of Rayse’s mouth.
Constance stood by, fidgeting as the old woman took care for Rayse.
Greta glanced at the thermometer, then put it into the cup. “Oh, he’s burning up. Well, it’s merely exhaustion. I don’t think he’s had any proper sleep ever since you arrived. Plus, he likely fought with the other clans for hours on end. And from what you’ve told me, it didn’t help that he had to take care of an entire group of dragons on his own.”
“Why do they have to attack now?” she said, balling her hands into a fist. “Do they know that he’s weakened because of me?” It was all her fault. Why couldn’t she be more trusting? In an effort to protect herself, she hurt her one and only mate.
“No,” Greta said. “It’s the dragon mother. She’s almost awake, and her presence seems to rile up the dragons. They believe their god is coming to help them.” The elder dragon sighed. “It’s foolish, really. They don’t stop to think that the dragon mother would bless the other dragons, too, if she does at all anyway. They all want to think they’re the goddess’s favorite. Dragons are the same as humans. We all assume we’re the exceptions to every rule.”
“So the clan isn’t in danger because of me, right?”
“It’s just untimeliness.” Greta huffed. “Don’t start on some somber guilt trip. I hate it when people get moody like that.”
Greta’s words fell on deaf ears. Constance was already in a deep pit of guilt. If she’d only bonded with Rayse sooner… or at least laid with him to curb his hunger for her, he’d be able to rest well at night and not collapse so suddenly. She counted the fresh scratches on his body and decided they were too numerous. She was starting to blame herself for every single one of them. She should have allowed herself to cave and go with the flow. She was meant to be with him all along, why fight it?
They wouldn’t leave marks, dragons had ferocious healing abilities that prevented scars. She sought comfort in knowing they wouldn’t stay as disturbing reminders of what had happened.
“I suspected it was exhaustion, so I already brought over the medicine,” Greta said. The dragon woman poured the mixture onto a leaf and dripped it into Rayse’s lips. “This will help his body calm, but only temporarily. Nothing but the bond will truly help him.”
“When will he wake?” She wouldn’t hesitate to bond with him. She just wanted him to get better. Her insecurities had washed away. No man would suffer so much for a girl he didn’t love. Anybody else would have forced himself on her already. She kept her hand intertwined with his fingers. The heat was unbearable, but she didn’t want to let go.
“After he gets enough rest,” Greta said.
“When is that, exactly?” Time snailed along at an agonizing pace.
“Soon. One, two, three days? He’s on major sleep deprivation, child. And he’s been exerting himself with this whole mating thing, ruling the clan, and battling the other dragon clans. Let him rest while his body is finally allowing him to.”
Constance bit her lip.
“Don’t act so sulky. It’s grating. He’ll wake, so stop acting as if the dragon mother has decided to end the world.” Greta patted her on the head.
“You’re not being very comforting.”
Greta didn’t respond. Instead, the old woman packed her tools into her medicine sack and slung it over her shoulder.
“You’re leaving?”
“Of course. Fraser is in worse condition than Rayse is. And I have other sick patients to care for.”
“But—” She stopped herself from begging Greta to stay. The old lady made sense.
“Besides, Rayse has you. It’s the same as curing humans from exhaustion—let them sleep. The main difference is that you have wipe him down every so often and give him the medicine from the leaf to calm his temperature down.”
Constance tightened her jaw and nodded. “I’d feel more relieved if you were here.”
“Are you saying you’re not a doctor?”
“I’m not. You said I wasn’t.”
Greta hummed, then said, “You’re well on your way to becoming one.”
“Saying those things… aren’t you afraid of me getting cocky?”
“It’s okay when you already feel like you’re at rock bottom. Besides, I really can’t stand the sulkiness. I either have cheer you up or punch you in the face to get that expression off your face. And I don’t think our clan leader will approve of me accidentally killing his mate.”
Greta walked toward the exit.
“No, I don’t think he would.” A faint smile spread across her lips as she watched Greta leave.
“I’ll let you skip work again tomorrow,” the dragon woman said. “You’ll make my nurses sulky, too, looking like that. Sadness is contagious, you know? You might get everyone sick.”
“Thanks for the day—” The door shut before Constance could finish responding.
Her smile had turned into a grin, but when she glanced down at Rayse and his worn-out self, her heart sank and the corners of her lips fell.
CHAPTER TEN
A dragon wife once accounted how dragons have religion. They worship the dragon mother, an immortal dragon female who has existed since the beginning of time itself. Experts have yet to confirm this. The notion is ridiculous. Dragons themselves are gods. Why should beings as beautiful, terrifying, and perfect as them need something to worship?
The rowdiness outside was the second thing to wake Constance up. The first was Rayse’s hot, pulsing hand. Releasing his fingers, she had to force herself out of them because of how tightly he gripped her.
“He’s getting hotter,” she muttered as she frowned. She took a towel, dampened it, and wiped his face. Her hands traveled downward. He didn’t wear a shirt to help him cool down, she had taken it off.
His frame was taut and muscular. A perfect specimen of a man. The only features that tainted him were the dark circles under his eyes. The scratches had healed, thanks to his quick, dragon-healing abilities. The dark circles were the only indication that he wasn’t completely perfect, yet .
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she looked away as she wiped his sweat off. Was she really fantasizing about Rayse while he was unconscious and sick? How deplorable.
She gave him the medicine, as Greta instructed, then sat next to his side.
What caused the commotion outside? It sounded like a huge festival, with trumpets blaring on and off and loud music playing. It couldn’t be past dawn. The sun had barely risen.
Greta burst into the room, seeming peeved. “This is not good. Not good!”
“What?”
“How is he?”
“Greta, is something wrong?”
“How is he! Has he awakened?”
Constance’s brows furrowed. “No.”
“This is bad. Terrible. A catastrophe.”
“I don’t understand. You’re not making any sense. It sounds like they’re having lots of fun outside.”
“This is serious, child. They’re celebrating a welcome. The dragon mother is here and they’re trying to impress her. And Rayse is still sleeping like a babe.”
“They’ll just have to welcome the dragon mother without Rayse. He’s too ill to join them.”
Greta grit her teeth. “It’s not that simple. The leader is supposed to invite the dragon mother into the clan. It’s insulting and seen as weakness if he cannot show. The whole clan will be looking for him.”
“So what if they look for him? He won’t wake.”
“That is precisely the problem,” Greta said. “Territorial dragons will realize the clan leader is unwell.”
Realization hit her like a hurricane. “They’ll try to kill him.” Blood drained from her face. “The challenges. He has to accept them even if he’s sick. They’ll fight him even though he’s knocked out.”
“Yes.”
“Can they really challenge him, even when he’s unconscious? The notion sounds ridiculous, Greta. How can they fight with a sleeping man?”
“The clan leader must be alert enough to sense dangers, even when he’s sleeping. Rayse never had a problem with that. The last dragon who tried to ambush him while he was asleep lost a wing. No other dragon has tried since then. But if they realize he’s truly out of it, many will come to take him on.” Greta bit her nails before sarcastically saying, “Good news is that challenges can only be carried out one-on-one, so not all of them will be killing him at once. The downside of this is that once they realize he’s weak, they’ll all come rushing to be the first one.”
“We can just say he’s not home. That he’s still out on his mission.”
“All the dragons that went with him have returned already. They’ll be sending someone to find him for such an occasion. It might work, but it’s unlikely.”
“No, no, no,” she cried. “We have to wake him up. Make him fly out of here.”
The trumpets outside played at a quicker pace. They reminded her of the little time they had left to come up with a plan.
“Dragon culture is such a pain,” Greta said.
“Greta! Please. You must know of something to wake him up with.”
Greta pursed her lips. “Kingslin Grass.”
Constance tilted her head. “I’ve never heard of that before.”
“It’s an uncommon herb to use because of the side effects. It gives the user a rush of strength which lasts for a day, but after which, he or she will suffer fatigue, headaches, and nausea for two whole weeks. The fatigue is strong enough to kill a human. Dragons can withstand it, but they don’t like using it because they’re constantly fighting, and being disadvantaged for two weeks isn’t appealing to them.”
“Rayse will be weakened for two weeks. How is that any better?” She had just decided on giving herself to him. Everything was supposed to be resolved once that happened. Why did her circumstances always have to turn to horseshit so abruptly?
“He’ll stand a fighting chance. Better than him dying in his sleep now.”
