Rider King ✓

8

"Don't, Salina," Dramon practically growls.

He's the first to speak. I'm staring the woman down and I know that we're drawing a crowd. I refuse to move. I'll stand my ground and handle whatever she throws my way.

A boy laughs as he runs from his friends. On his way past us, he accidentally knocks my cane out of my hand. One of the adults gasps, apologizes, and snatches him out of the way.

Just like that, it feels like I've lost the fight. When my cane fell, Salina's rage has calmed a little, and I swear that her lip is quirked. She knows that I'll have to bend down— bow in front of her— to pick up my cane.

Bow to the Queen.

I don't bend down, but I know that I can't take a single step without my cane or I'll go down. Salina has me where she wants me. It feels like she trapped me without lifting a single finger. I hate this. I feel powerless.

I can't bend, I can't walk, so I stand tall.

Suddenly, force shoves me down. Did Salina just push me?

No. I'm in a pair of arms. Strong, grey, metallic arms that claim my weight. Dramon is carrying me. He holds me tight to his chest, and I instinctively rest a hand on his chest to stabilize myself.

He walks around Salina, who stays frozen in place with my cane at her feet. Her smirk is gone. The anger is back.

I don't know what the hell to say. I can't ask Dramon to put me down, because that would give the idea of division. I don't want the clan to worry about there being instability within the leadership ranks, or stumble in front of Salina, so I leave my hand on Dramon's chest and pretend to be the damsel in distress that I would hate to be.

He sits down on a mat and pulls me onto his lap. The mat is a beautifully crafted leather with spots of gold and beads surrounding the edges. I recognize what this is. It's horrifying and daunting all at once.

Ten-thousand. Dramon has killed ten-thousand beings. I know because King Centres only has these made for Rider Kings that reach the bloody mark. Only some Rider Kings choose to keep count of how many they've killed. I wasn't one of them, but it looks like Dramon is.

"I can sit on a different mat," I offer him. I know how sacred this thing can be. It's a sign of dedication to his people, and only he deserves to rest on it.

"It is fine."

Since we share a bedroll and a tent, I guess he doesn't care about adding this to the list.

Dishes wait in front of us, but I don't feel hungry.

"Salina will get over this," he says.

Since he mentioned her, I'm now hungry. I crave that woman's flesh. It was only will that kept me from biting that smirk off her face.

"I know," I tell Dramon. There's no other option for her. She either acts her part, or she leaves the clan.

We eat in silence, and afterward, he carries me to bed as the clan openly stares. I'm embarrassed about looking weak, but I'll take it because I know Salina is grinding her teeth as she watches us.

We go to bed and rise together. Dramon asks me if I want to work with him every morning after that. It's been four days, and four rejections. He seems more and more displeased, but I know it's best if I say away from his work. My leg would only slow him down.

He leaves for hours every day while I fish, check hunting traps, bathe Treysa, and tailor a few pairs of pants that were given to me. I only see Dramon during the night.

I saw more of him today since the clan is cleaning up to prepare moving off this mountain. I don't have much to pack.

I'm rolling up a fur when I hear, "I wanted to apologize."

I stand up instantly and make sure I don't wobble as I stand straight. Salina is standing before me with her hair in a tight bun atop her head. Her expression is tired— is it genuine?

"Apologize for what?"

I want to hear her say it.

"The rock. It was an aggressive move. I had a history with our King that I have not gotten over. I love him."

Love. Not loved.

I take her in. She looks like she doesn't want to be here, but she is. She speaks words of peace.

"Will you continue to pursue him?"

It takes her a long minute to answer me. Her eyes are flickering, and she looks at my tent as if looking for Dramon. How many times has she been in a tent with him? How many times has she warmed his furs? Do the answers matter if she's asking for forgiveness?

"No."

I reach for my neck, rip my necklace off, and thrust it into her hand. It's my way of saying I forgive her. I will not say the words.

She takes the necklace, and then I walk around her. As I leave, I realized that our skin never touched. It's a weird thing to notice.

I find Treysa sleeping. She must be bored with sitting around all day.

"Sorry, girl. It has been a busy day today."

I want to ride her badly, but I know that I can't. Not without falling and worsening my injury.

I pet her for a while and later walk to my tent. Dramon is there, securing a crate.

"Are you ready? We will ride out in a few minutes."

"Yes."

"Will you be riding her?" he looks at Treysa.

I gulp, because I realize what the alternative is.

"No."

His gaze narrows on me. Is he remembering having me on his lap as we rode away? I sure am.

He nods.

Ten minutes later, everyone is mounting. Dramon reaches for my waist and gives me a moment to pull away. Then, he swings me atop his beast and slides behind me. His thighs are strong around my legs, and his chest feels sure behind my back.

I look at Treysa, as if begging the animal to save me.

We ride with Dramon in the lead with a soft gallop. We don't use reins to lead our mounts, so Dramon's hands rest on my thighs the entire time, eating them up.

I feel hot and sick to my stomach.

"Dramon?"

"Yes?" he asks, using his legs to guide his mount to turn left.

I hate to do this-being a burden, but I feel like I'll fall off if we don't take a break. I need space. I need water. I need air.

"Can you stop for a moment?"

His chest rumbles behind me as he asks, "Are you hungry?"

The thought of food makes me gag, so I turn my head because I know what's coming. Dramon clings to me and comes to a full stop as I throw up. My vomit splatters on the soil, and although Dramon holds me tight to his chest, I swear I'm falling into an endless pit.

The other riders stop behind us and watch me heave. Even Treysa comes closer, concerned about whatever was happening to me.

I hear feet platter. I pant as I listen to my surroundings and try to control my heaving.

"My Queen!" Jema calls. "Thank the earth! I think you are carrying a child!"

Pregnant?

I feel Dramon tense behind me.