The Rider's Truth.

Gifts and Dreams

Unedited

Chapter 30: Gifts and Dreams

I had expected a degree of cautiousness. Maybe because that was me as a person. It was there for a moment, the soft touch of his mouth against mine before that crumbled away into something deeper, a fission of heat that rattled through our battered bones.

My fingers curled in his hair as he bent over me. The Innoch's body was strong, raw energy stored just beyond the confines of his tanned skin. I could sense it as his hand slid along my cheek to cup my face and the other delved deeper, his fingers knotting in the white-blond hair gathered at the nap of his neck. His hands were scorching as he gathered my close, his fingers tightening as if I would slip away from him.

I lost myself in it. The roughness of his hands, a man's hands. A fighter's hands. The warmth of his body and the strength behind his skin and yet, he held me so gently.

A snarl built in his chest, a gentle rumble that made me smile against his mouth. He pulled for a moment, just a moment. But I saw the darkened hue of his eyes, with a look on his face that I didn't understand. Maybe because I had never seen it directed towards me, maybe I had never looked for it, but it was here now.

A large hand dropped to my hip, his hold gentle but scorching. I wondered, almost internally hysterical for a minute, if he could feel the sharp jab of my hipbones. But they weren't as sharp now - good food and sunlight had packed muscle and fat onto my body. 

His hand was still cradling the back of my head, when my nose gave another stubborn pulse and I felt the unmistakable warmth of another nose-bleed trickling down over the bow of my lips.

Oh mo Dhia...

"I want to die..." I whispered through the bond, the same time that Nethore growled, "Nethore is going to throw you off this island."

The shame was off-titled when Zephyr eased back, his chest rumbling as he threw his head back and laughed. The sudden, rich sound startled me, and I just watched as his broad shoulders shook. His eyes were shining, honest for a moment.

"Honestly, for that, I would kiss you again but ...." He motioned to my blood-stained face, while I blushed. All earlier confidence had seeped into a puddle on the ground and I found it difficult to look at him as he smiled down at me, laughter creasing the corners of his eyes.

"I should.... clean myself."

"You should." His smile deepened when I glanced up at him, my lips curling into an affronted snarl. He gifted me with another peeling laugh and turned on his heel, his footsteps silent as he strode away. Even so, I admired the hard line of his shoulders and the gleam of his dark hair when the sunlight found it.

Half embarrassed, half stunned at what had happened, I stepped into the kitchen to wash my hands. And never once thought to check or felt the over-whelming urge to see if Acheron was hiding in the darkened corner.

∑

I felt the ash that coated my tongue. She still could hear the echoes of the screaming, the pleading to the skies that she had caught miles out, too late to save them from the fire. Her mind was shut, her heart as icy as her breath as she waited behind me, surveying the damage with eyes of glittering summer blue.

Bodies were twisted in forms of ash, kneeling with their hands to the sky. Bent over loved ones and curled up in the corners. There had been no use in fleeing and they knew that.

My heart gave a painful lurch, a rush of failure that settled in my bones. Thick, acrid smoke rose into the hair, and the once magnificent city was silent. Save for the crackling of a fire that tore through what remained and the distant sounds of laughter, or dragons roaring. A squadron of solider who had camped outside the city, so they wouldn't have to look at what they did so easily.