Alys wouldn't cry. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her tears.
Why was her life always reduced to this? To being nothing more then dragons bait?
She yanked fruitlessly against the iron bands on wrists that held her locked against the cold wall in this dank little room, frustrated, before turning to the dragon regarding her coldly.
"He won't come." Her voice rang out, seeming loud in the heavy silence, and she prayed he didn't notice the slight tremor in her voice as she spoke these words. He didn't notice, or he didn't care, and simply continued to observe her expressionless.
"We'll see." He said after a long pause. She wondered if being so annoying was a dragon trait, or if was only the dragons she came into contact with.
More silence. Maybe he finally realized that she wasn't going to beg for her life or pour out her heart and tell him Selendrile's whereabouts, because after a few very long minutes he turned smoothly on his heel and left her alone in the cold darkness.
"He won't come." It was whispered this time, but still just as true. She collapsed against the cold wall behind her, and let the silent tears streak down her face.
"He won't..."
…
After three years of traveling with Selendrile, one might think she would have become immune to his physical appearance and charms, but instead the longer she stayed with him, the more aware of him she became. It was rather unfortunate.
But other then her ridiculous attraction for her dragon companion, he turned out to be a wonderful protector and provider, providing clothes, blankets and food without a complaint. Often times Alys felt like just a burden or a nuisance to him. They traveled on foot for her, and it took them several days to reach their destination instead of a thirty minute flight. But he never mentioned it, well, almost never.
They of course had to set down some ground rules when they'd first made this arrangement permanent. Selendrile was not to eat humans anymore and turn around when she needed to undress - though he was humoring her because her modesty amused him - and Alys was supposed to warn him when she was hungry, tired or sick (her body being so much weaker then his, one of his constant reminders) and in charge of coming up with stories when they were forced to interact with others, and managing the gold from his horde. It worked out well for them both.
And is it any surprise that she blamed him for everything, life was easier that way. She blamed him for the time they'd run into bandits on the road because he should have been able to hear them, despite the fact that he quickly took care of them before one could get within ten feet of harming her. And she blamed him when she caught a cold, because he'd once dropped her in the middle of the lake saying she had looked as though she was overheating when she blushed at one of his accidental suggestive comments, ignoring the fact that he'd taken to serving her warm stew in bed since her illness. She blamed him when it was too hot, when the ground they slept on was hard, for teasing her and making her face turn red, and for just about anything, even though it was irrational. He took it all with good humor, smirking, knowing that there was no real fire behind her accusations.
The arrangement fell into a comfortable pattern, both satisfied until the night she poured some potent drink they sold at the local tavern down her throat to fight the cold, not thinking about the effects it would have on her judgment.
Despite the affects of the alcohol she'd consumed, Alys remembered perfectly the way Selendrile looked in the firelight, the light reflecting off his golden hair and his striking eyes focused straight at her with a rare warm expression. She remembered dancing along to the music some traveling musicians had played, taunting him with her eyes, before she had tripped over her own feet and, using his uncanny speed, he'd caught her and then insisted on carrying her to her bed before she injure her fragile human body. She remembered enjoying the warmth of his body as he set her on her bed, and then, acting purely on instinct, she remembered pulling his lips to hers. And, against her expectations, he didn't pull away, so she pulled him even closer.
The next morning, she blamed him. She blamed him because he'd once told her they could never mate, he being a dragon and her a human, and to this he just shrugged, carelessly saying he'd lied. She blamed him because he must have known how she felt and simply taken advantage of her feelings, and he slyly reminded her who had kissed who. And then she blamed him for making her fall in love with him when she didn't want to, for beguiling her just like he did to all the other girls he dazzled. To this he had no response; he even had the audacity to look hurt, and simply dressed and left.
And he didn't come back. And she blamed herself.
She waited all day, waited for him to appear so she could apologize, but he never came. The next day she woke up next to a large purse filled with gold coins from his horde next to her, and she cried, knowing he wasn't coming back, then or ever.
For the next month she traveled alone, passing from town to town looking for work, and since none of the businesses wanted to hire a girl and her body had matured enough that she could no longer pass for a boy, she continued on.
In all of that time, she'd seen nothing of her previous companion, and her broken heart died a little more.
But one night she'd not made it to the next town before nightfall and tried to find a makeshift shelter to pass the night under and didn't dare risk a making a fire in case it attracted highway men to her location, and ended up curling her body around itself to try to preserve her own body heat. Some time around midnight she fell into an uneasy sleep shivering and bone-cold. In a strange, far-away dream she dreamt of a familiar body and warmth surrounding her – holding her - and the next morning, she'd woken up in a comfortable bed at the inn with no memory of how she had gotten there, and the inn keeper had smiled and simply answered that her 'brother' had brought her in late last night.
It was two weeks later when they found her. She'd been sitting by herself, enjoying the fire, when they'd entered the tavern she'd found a job as a barmaid at. Two dragons versus one human weren't very good odds, and she'd quickly found herself overtaken, captured, and held in a stone cell complete with iron shackles.
At that point, three things became clear: it wasn't her they wanted; she would be disposed of if she proved useless, and she was, once again, the bait.
…
The door to her cell opened and her two dragon captors entered, sneering. She'd been here two days, and there was still no sign of their target. That had to be frustrating for them. Good.
"Perhaps we snatched the wrong human. He still hasn't shown, and besides, what's so tempting about her?" One asked, irate.
"You know it's her, she practically reeks of fey! Not to mention the way his signature surrounds her, he's marked her. This is the right female." The second considered her. "…The Prince did always have particular tastes, I suppose." …Wait, Prince? "The dragon continued unfazed. "And perhaps she has skills in …other areas." Both grinned. Alys felt her stomach drop as she saw the gleam in their eyes.
"He'll come." The second dragon spoke, sounding confident.
"He has no reason to come. He doesn't care what happens to me." Her throat was hoarse and it hurt to talk, and even more to say the words, but it was worth it to see the looks on their faces.
"You are the Prince's Mate." The first dragon spat, but he didn't sound as convinced as his companion. "You mated, and he marked you as his."
"It didn't mean anything to him; he left me almost two months before you attacked me. He probably doesn't even know I'm missing." But now they both laughed.
"Didn't your dear lover teach you anything!? Dragons don't do anything lightly. When he joined with you, he knew what he was doing and the repercussions." He turned to the second dragon, and spoke with a feral grin on his face. "I wonder if he can keep track of her through their bond… We haven't tested that theory yet."
…
By the time they left, Alys was bleeding through a cut on her lip and her left cheek was already bruising, along with her stomach and her right arm, but thankfully that was all. They had decided against more…forceful methods until later. She shuddered.
Hours passed, and her limbs began to cramp from their odd positioning and inactivity. Her stomach was growling for food and her body was shaking from the cold. Alys tried not to notice. Her mind had plenty of things to keep it occupied, anyways.
Prince. Mate? Could Selendrile be the Prince of Dragon? It was certainly possible, it's not like he would have told her. He never told her anything. But mates? Could it be that one night together – Alys bit her lip as memories surfaced – could have bound them together? But then why would he leave?
Alys sighed. She made him leave. She accused him of manipulating her and taking advantage of her. She remembered the look on his face just before he turned to leave. His painfully beautiful face twisted with hurt. She had done that. The guilt washed over her again. And now she was going to die and he'll never know how sorry she is, how much she really loved him, that she only said those things because she feared his reaction too.
"Oh, Selendrile…"
…
There was no way to measure time, no window to see the suns light fade and captures were unlikely to volunteer the information. She assumed she'd been alone for an entire day before the door opened once more. Her body, numb from the cold and weak from lack of nourishment, couldn't summon the energy to rise, so she just waited to see who would be tormenting her today.
Her eyes, unused to the light shining through, took longer the usual to adjust but when they did, she saw two black lumps lying on the floor outside the cell and a man coming towards her. She saw the golden hair falling gently over his shoulders, and the urgent yet hesitant body language and knew.
He had come. He had come for her.
Selendrile knelt in front of her, making it easy to retrace every beloved line on his face with her greedy eyes as he took out a key and began to undo her iron shackles. She could see the pain it caused him to touch the iron, she saw every cringe and could practically hear his teeth grinding together, but he never stopped.
Once free of the bands, they stared at one another, not sure what to say. She wanted to ask him about the Bond, to find out if he was the Prince, and most of all she wanted to apologize, and ask him if he regretted that night. But she couldn't seem force out the words.
Finally she found her voice to whisper:
"I love you."
His eyes softened and he stood. Afraid he was leaving, Alys bit her lip to stop her sudden tears, but he turned and offered her his hand.
"Stay with me, Alys." His beautiful tenor, laced with hope, sang through her body, sending shockwaves.
There was so much she wanted to say, to do. Then she smiled as she realized that there was no shortage of time for her to do so later. So she took his hand.
"Yes." Pulling herself up, she brought his lips towards hers. "Yes."
AN: I'm not sure if it's good, but I really liked reading the book, and loved the characters. I was inspired. Please review.
