Whenever the copper one flies off for an attack, Alaric speeds to the ground, before getting viciously intercepted.
Then, another speeding form emerges out of the sky. A lighter copper colored dragon.
Cael. I can't hear their shrieks, but I imagine they're bellowing fiercely. Alaric flaps awkwardly out the way as Cael barrels into the darker copper dragon. The dark one acts surprised, and with brief tussle in the air, the darker copper dragon darts away,
Obviously, he hadn't expected to be attacked by his own prince. Cael chases him a short distance, and Alaric lethargically flaps to where I'm straddled on top of the snow. He probably thinks he'll see me dead.
Just wait until I tell everyone I know that I survived a fall from a very high height.
Better wait until I'm not crushed by this dragon, I suppose. Alaric tries to land next to me, and sinks through the snow. He gives a few half-hearted flaps, then collapses in a big green heap, eyes dimming and shutting. For the first time, I realize that he's injured. There's deep gashes in his shoulders, around his left wing, bleeding out from his vulnerable stomach. It stains the snow red.
And he was still trying to look for me. Not fighting like he might have out of concern for my life. Giving the interloper a chance to deal real damage to the Frostgreen prince.
Cael descends to us, even as Alaric shifts into his human form. The blood around him when compared to his human form makes it look as if he's bled out the entire contents of his body four times over. Cael hovers over Alaric and me, his nostrils flaring anxiously. Eventually, he attempts to delicately scoop us up in his talons, by bracing his hind legs in the snow, and picking us up one at a time.
Alaric hangs limp in one set of talons. I think he needs bandaging up as soon as possible, but Cael doesn't make any motions for that. I'm placed in the other, and Cael launches himself into the air towards the Frostgreen lands.
I shiver, thinking again at just how close I was to death. I had plummeted through the air. I should have died. I shouldn't be alive.
People aren't supposed to live from falls like that. Water should have been my best chance, right? Or am I wrong, and it's actually worse?
I'm still marveling over how little damage I received. It's certainly a blessing, but I don't understand why Alaric was attacked. Why Cael leaped to his defence.
There's many things I don't understand. I look through the talons at Alaric, wondering if he'll be alright. It's not a long flight to the Frostgreen lands, and when we get there, we're immediately rushed into infirmaries. I might have survived a fall, but I still have bruises and the layers of fur doesn't change the fact that I'm slowly slipping into hypothermia.
At least, I think I am, because I'm shivering, my skin is icy to the touch, I'm tired and the breathing is faster than normal, more laborious than normal. The medics funnily enough seem to be nurses and doctors from human civilization who have been taken – one of them even volunteered, though. All I need is careful warming up. Alaric on the other hand – I'm not sure how critical his condition is.
Alaric's parents make a special trip to visit him, and then to Cael, likely to get the details of what's happened.
Cael leaves partway, with an ominous promise to punish the one responsible for attacking a prince. No one is sure of the reason. Maybe some royalist who took it upon themselves to try and assassinate an enemy prince, maybe a hired assassin.
Either way, Cael appears to be seething. He looks as if he wants to murder someone, which is a highly unusual display of emotion from him. Usually he just broods, scowls, and avoids everyone.
Except when he's doing... what he did to us in his chambers. It may only be a week ago, but it feels like it happened only a few minutes past.
And I still can't shrug it out of my mind. And I'm not sure if I want to.
I check on Alaric myself when I'm warmed up sufficiently, and the nurses have proclaimed me healthy enough to go. The king and queen check up on me briefly as I'm technically their daughter now, apologizing profusely for the unfortunate incident of the trip.
“There's always a risk,” the queen says. “Not everyone likes the idea of the Frostgreens and Spiden forging an alliance, and some think it can never be possible. We hoped when Alaric and Cael were friends that the dream would be more of a reality.”
Right. Except she didn't know that the princes ended up sleeping together, and separating on heartbreak.
“But with Cael...” the queen purses her lips thoughtfully, blue-wrapped arms around her stomach, “he seemed really concerned. Perhaps it's not all lost. Maybe you really are more useful like this. I had thought it awfully unusual, to have you... divided between princes. But it might be just what we need. I'm glad you didn't die.”
“Thanks,” I say, though it doesn't sound like she's glad for me because of who I am. Just because of the potential value I have as a bridge between the clans. I'm not sure what to make of that.
I don't know what to feel about Alaric living or dying, either. I think... it would be sad that he's gone, since he seems like a nice person. I suppose. But I just don't know him enough. It's hard to feel any measure of loss when you're unattached. Except... I feel like maybe in time we would become friends. Sure he'd need to get over Cael, and I need to at some point be able to contact my parents, because there's no way I can accept being here for the rest of my life and never letting them know that I'm still alive. I just can't do that.
That will continually be a weight upon my conscience. However, because I know it'll be seen as good to the Frostgreen, I go to see Alaric as soon as I can. He's awake, and where there were slashes upon his skin, now there's bruises, but they appear as if they're days old, not hours.
“Hey,” I say, focusing on his stomach, which is exposed. I'm sure he was ripped there and bled a lot, yet it's sealed.
“Hey,” Alaric replies, one palm drifting to his stomach. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. What about you? Did the doctors stitch you? Because I think you had some pretty severe wounds.”
“Ah.” Alaric smiles wryly. “Us shifters tend to heal pretty fast. If you want to kill one, you need to kill them instantly, or they can recover.” He then leans his head further back on the pillow and sighs. “I got so terrified when you fell off. I did everything I could to reach you, but I didn't. I'm sorry.”
“Don't be,” I say. I remember seeing him attempt to reach me, and taking horrific punishment from his attacker. “It's not like any of us expected you to be attacked.”
“I should have realized it might happen. I should have brought protection.” He grits his teeth. “Usually I have protection, but I thought... I didn't think they'd be so bold, when we had an agreement in place.”
He now reaches out a hand for me. I want to refuse it, but I also don't like the idea of seeing him forlorn, hand stretched for a grasp that will never come, so I put my palm in his. It's warm and tough, and has a reverent sensation about it, somehow. It's something you do when you trust someone, but I don't think I fully trust Alaric yet. But he did try to save me.
He tried.
“You must have been terrified,” he says then, blue eyes guilty. Not wanting to shy away from the truth, I nod.
“Yes. But it's okay. I'm alive. Somehow. And so are you. And...” I give him a smile. “Cael saved you.”
Alaric's brow crinkles in bafflement. “Yes. He did, didn't he? No idea what he's playing at.”
“Well, I'm not a gambling woman, but I'd say I think he's still pretty attached to you.”
“You're joking, right?” He lets out a scornful laugh, his white teeth gleaming. “He's about as attached as a fish out of water. He hates me. Us.”
“And yet he went out of his way to save you.”
“That's just because he doesn't want to mess things up with the alliance,” Alaric says, though I see the doubt in his eyes. Cael's appearance has shaken his world views. To be honest, I'm not as surprised, because I honestly think Cael's the kind who represses shit. I'v
e seen it a lot in my friends and in the movies. Gay guys seem to have this down to perfection.
They don't want to admit they're gay. They rarely do, especially with the pressures of society surrounding them. From potentially being disowned, vilified, reviled. The higher up you are in society, the more important it is to maintain an image of normalcy. If a jock's gay in high school, you can bet your button socks that they would hate to admit their leanings, and be under pressure to fuck a girl. And people get so darn terrified of having their true feelings spilled that they go to any lengths to hide it. They turn to homophobia, denial, or just ignore it and hope it goes away. They get angry when people accuse them, and defensive as well.
And it's always terrifying to be exiled from your friends and family when they do find out. Sure, we're not exactly dealing with high school jocks here, but I think the principle is the same. Both have a lot to lose from admitting the truth. Therefore, it buries itself down to invisibility. It becomes a regret.
Cael has upset that equilibrium by rescuing Alaric out of the blue, and has gone to punish, possibly execute the one who attacked him. Even though he's given no indication beforehand that he cared if Alaric died in a ditch somewhere, alone and lost.
“Maybe you two should talk. You have a lot to say.”
“Mm, I don't think so. I don't think I'd enjoy facing him again.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look. I get the feeling that until you two are on civil speaking terms again, we're going to have issues. I don't want to be tossed between you two and just be avoided all the time. Like, if I'm going to be here, I want to enjoy myself, you know? Maybe you don't want me to, and see me as a slave, but I'll be damned if I don't find some fucking happiness.”
Alaric glances away, chastised from my words. “I'm sorry. You're perfectly right to think so. Especially as a princess.”
Ha. I'm sure no princess would want to be in this position. Still, I keep my hand wrapped with his, leaning over his bed and taking in the soft, musky aroma of him, and the sterile bedsheets. I also catch the faint tang of copper. I can tell he's been bleeding. The bruises upon him look less prominent than before.
And... this is actually the first time I've seen him bare chested. The realization hits me hard. It's a pretty sculpted chest, one where many men would kill for to keep in that shape. Either he does a lot of exercise in his spare time, or shifter physique tends to naturally incline towards this. It's such a gorgeous chest that I'm tempted to run my fingers over it, and hook my nails through the thin blonde hairs that accumulate there.
He's attractive. I've known that from the start. Felt the heat in me. But feeling the heat and acting on it are two different things. And being dominated... well. It takes a forceful personality to wrench that desire out of me and lay it bare. One like Cael Spiden.
Though Alaric has some power of his own. He's now looking at me in earnest, as if he hasn't realized who I was before, and that he spent a hell of a lot in procuring me. He lifts his free hand to run fingers through my red hair, and I forget how to breathe for a moment.
“I'm glad you didn't get hurt. It would be a shame... if someone so beautiful had lost their lives due to my irresponsibility.”
“Right,” I say, though my throat's a little blocked. “Irresponsibility. If that's how you want to call it.”
Those blue eyes have a way of piercing the soul. They burrow into me and don't come back out. Yes. He's...
He's something. Another place, another time. I might have found myself falling for someone like this. But that's not the case. I do like holding his hand, though. I like the way he brushes my hair, fixes me with those eyes. Like I'm worth something. That he could grow to like me beyond the shadow of Cael.
Ah. Do I even want that? To be liked by these shifters? It doesn't justify my situation at all. It doesn't make if right, even if I do end up forming affection.
It's just hard to not be around someone like Alaric for long before developing some kind of attachment, I think.
“I should get more things for you,” he muses. “Make the caves feel better for you. I don't really know how to decorate, but I could get the servants to help out. We have humans from all over, with amazing talents.”
Humans that have been abducted, I think. Not something to be proud of.
I begin to slip into a foul mood, but keep it down long enough to maintain a civil appearance to Alaric. He doesn't deserve me being unkind. Not after he came so close to losing his life.
Eventually, I leave him to recover, and end up in his chambers. Without Yuna or Melantha around, I don't really know how to connect to the women of Frostgreen. I'll need to make an effort, though, because if I'm going to be stuck here, I want to not be stuck in someone's cave the whole time. I want the freedom like I had with the Spiden clan to wander about without fear, though I realize now that I'd be a prime target for those harboring a dislike towards the princes.
Still, because I can, I decide to fall asleep for a few hours. Then I get up, have a bath, eat something that my servants here bring me. I figure I can talk to the servants to find out more about the Frostgreens. Servants also tend to know all sorts of things. Maybe they'll know if there's any way to communicate with the human world. Though I can't entirely trust them in that they'll not sell me out as soon as possible. So I don't talk to them about such things. I won't risk it.
It's best not to get on the bad side of the people I live with. I idly trace my attention over the other shifters in the area that I can see. All have attractive aesthetics in their features. Perhaps they're not as dreamy as Alaric and Cael, but they do have that noble kind of bearing, like they know they're better than everyone else. It does also give some of them that unfortunate look of having their noses upturned all the time.
Alaric joins me in his chambers about an hour later, fully recovered. The servants all scurry away, presumably because they think we're about to have mad sex or something, but I bet Alaric's going to avoid me like he did last week. Instead, as I offer to make him something to drink, there's a knock on the side entrance, which leads from the landing platform. Alaric gives me a terse look before accepting the knocker.
Cael Spiden stands there, dressed fully in black, with a coldness to his face. Before Alaric can protest or slam the door in his face, Cael strides past. He looks at us both, then gives me a closer inspection, moving right up and actually picking up my arms to see if I wince, squeezing my legs. I glare at him.
“I'm amazed you suffered such little injury,” he says, even as his hands squeeze over a spot that will soon be a bruise, and I finally cringe. “ A human shouldn't survive a fall like that.”
“She went down a snowy incline,” Alaric says, clearing his throat. “I think that might have reduced the damage.”
“You.” Cael now whips his gaze onto Alaric. “You can fight. Something like that should never have happened to you. I'm disgusted you allowed yourself to take so much damage. You got distracted.”
“Excuse me if I didn't expect a member of your clan to attempt to murder me,” Alaric hisses. Cael's expression falters from blank calm to faint chagrin for a moment.
“I dealt with the one responsible for that. He is no longer of any concern to you.”
Those words send a chill through my body. He executed the shifter? Something about his stance, his cold, blizzard like eyes makes me think that yes. He did so, personally killing them with his own hands. I wonder if he takes pleasure in the death of another, or whether it wearies him.
I might be assuming too much, of course. But I don't think so.
“And how long will it take before the next one comes along? Perhaps it might be safer if the princess stays in my kingdom.”
“You'd like that wouldn't you?” Cael braces himself, obviously halting a venomous tirade. “Next time, Alaric bring some damned protection. You're a prince. You're a prime target for those who seek to take advantage wherever they can. And you can't afford to take liberties around the princess.”
>
“I'm not a child. I can take care of myself. And by the way, you've never even shown a hint of concern until I almost die on your doorstep. What changes that now?”
The dark haired shifter lets out a scoff. “It's hardly diplomatic to let the person I have an arrangement with die, is it? All suspicion would fall onto me.”
“For fuck's sake,” I say, and they both glare at me. “Why can't you just tell the truth, Cael? Like it's obvious you care about him. Why the long dance about it?”
“Me? Care?” Cael's eyes become black holes, sucking all the warmth out of the room. Instantly, I wonder if I'm misjudged the situation. That he really does have no empathy left in that body of his. “I stopped caring a long time ago. Alaric is a disgusting piece of slime, not worth the effort anyone might put into him.”
Sold To The Dragon Princes: The Novel Page 10
