The Heart of a Dragon

The Ranger's Woes

Bishop stared into his now empty mug, absentmindedly calling over one of the serving girls for a refill. She sauntered over with a coquettish sway to her hips giving him a wink as she placed the fresh mug of ale in front of him. He barely spared her a glance, quickly downing half his drink in one, slouching deeper into his chair. How long had he been here now? Three days? Four? He'd drunk steadily since he'd arrived, and the details were getting blurry.

Some memories, however, were clear as glass. He'd stumbled back into the Ravenrock Inn a few days earlier, barely able to think, speak or walk. He and Aellana had fought the dragon together. The fear he felt as she'd collapsed to the ground still cut him like a knife, etched forever into his memory. Ever since he'd met the cursed woman, he'd been in a permanent state of terror. She was always walking into danger with no thought for her safety or the safety of those who chose to follow her. It was infuriating!

The serving girl gave him a concerned look from behind the bar, and he realised he'd cursed out loud. He raised his hand to signal he was alright. By the Gods! Aellana wasn't even here, and he was still thinking about her. He indicated once more for another drink. There wasn't another transport away from Solstheim for a few days yet, and he planned to spend that time well and truly drunk. He wanted oblivion. To forget he'd ever come to this godsforsaken place.

He'd been at Aellana's side in seconds after the battle. She was pale as death, her breathing shallow. At first, he'd felt nothing but fear, but within moments as he watched her chest rise and fall quickly as she struggled to take in air, he'd felt a desperate need like he'd never felt before. The leather of her armour was stretched tight across her breasts, and he'd thought back to that night he'd watched her bathe by the hot springs. His breath had caught in his throat, and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to tear her armour off and take her there and then.

Without even realising he was doing it, he'd started to unlace her leather bodice, exposing the sheer white cotton of her undershirt. He was already straining for release from the confines of his own tight, leather trousers, and it was that sensation that had snapped him out of whatever spell had befallen him.

He'd never held with rape. And no matter what sparks there were between Lana and himself, she was unconscious. There were rules about such things. He'd gathered her into his arms, groaning as he'd felt her muscular, lean body crushed against his own. By the Gods! The desire! It was like a crushing weight bearing down on his soul, and with every step, it grew worse and worse. Karnwyr whimpered beside him as he walked, anxious at his human's obvious distress, and Bishop let the sound anchor him. The frightened whimper of the wolf perfectly mirroring his feelings at his lack of control.

Control was something that Bishop craved above all else. He'd had so much stolen from him, and so many decisions in his life had been taken out of his hands that he'd made a pact with himself long ago never again to feel that helpless. But now he felt he couldn't even trust his own body. Who would have thought that the closest he would get to ultimate betrayal would be from himself? That thought alone was enough to give him the strength to move on.

He had stumbled into the Skaal village hours later, knocking at the Shaman's hut, dropping Aellana into the snow and running as fast as his legs would carry him. He'd briefly heard Thaiden's voice behind him, calling for him to stop, but he ignored the other Nord and ran deep into the night, desperate to get away from the whole sorry lot of them! He would not be made vulnerable by these people. He had to leave Solstheim as quickly as possible, for self-preservation as well as Aellana's safety. From him. He'd come so close to... no! He shut down his own thoughts on the subject. He hadn't. That was what mattered. He'd make sure there was never a next time.

He barely remembered making his way to the Inn at Raven Rock but with the smells, sights and sounds of the bustling tavern assaulting his senses he'd slowly come back to an awareness of his surroundings. Away from Aellana he no longer felt the same carnal impulse, but his desires were still wholly unchecked. He saw a familiar face behind the bar. The same cherub-faced serving girl who'd taken him to bed on their arrival. He walked over to her, and she smiled, clearly pleased to see him again.