War Camp, Celenore

Saffra wove through camp, attempting to calm her mind. Claire had been successful, though she didn't know the details yet; she'd get them later. That brought immense relief. She could dispense with the growing nausea that plagued her since last night's vision. She wanted the dragons eradicated—more, perhaps, than anyone else. After all, she'd been the first to see what they were capable of. The first to know that they'd come back to Dragonwall. All those months ago—almost a year now—she'd seen them sweep down from the mountains and burn the city of Belnesse to the ground.

The dead couldn't talk. There'd been only one survivor—a man by the name of Mikken. The rest were slaughtered or charred to a crisp. But she'd seen what their destruction looked like. She'd seen countless deaths, seen the city go up in flames, smelled the sickening scent of charred flesh.

And yet, the thought of little baby hatchlings, tucked safely in their mothers' wombs, some mere weeks from birth, slaughtered, left her sick. Her vision had been strange, not quite like others, but still, a foretelling of the future. She'd seen five pregnant mothers, their giant bellies stretched to popping. Then she'd been whisked to a strange cavern, mounds of sand littered with glittering dragon eggs, protected by those same mothers. She'd seen those eggs grow and hatch, and the tiny little dragonlings emerge squawking and bleating. Warmth had welled in her heart, tears in her eyes. The hope and possibility of that moment brought her to her knees on the warm sands of the hatching ground. It had been a strange experience. How many people could say they'd seen baby dragons hatch?

The moment she'd come around, regained her senses, her stomach had churned and sickened. Watching the eggs hatch had attached her to these little beings. The thought of seeing them so close to life, shrivel and die in their mothers' dead wombs made her race from her tent and vomit. That's when she'd gone to find Claire. She'd known in that moment, that Claire was the only one who might do something about it.

Circling camp once more, she returned to her tent. It was near the command tent, at the center of everything. It was nicer than most, but still contained the bare minimum. There were furs and rugs carpeting the ground. A lantern hung from the ceiling in the middle. An upside down crate served as a nightstand and table. There was also a small chest, off to the side, and a single chair beside it. She'd brought only meager belongings on the voyage here—a voyage Desaree had talked her and Jocelyn into. Her clothing consisted of pants and long tunics, abnormal for her, more like what Claire would wear, but she couldn't deny that the style made camp life easier. Whatever she was not wearing was tucked in the chest with Desaree and Jocelyn's things, as they shared the tent with her.

Currently, they were off doing other duties. Desaree had incurred a vast number of responsibilities around camp as punishment for defying the king's wishes, stealing his seal, and forging a letter that would permit them to board a ship and come here. It had been done out of foolishness, Saffra saw that now. But, she understood why Desaree had wanted to, understood what it felt like to feel inadequate and useless.

She often felt that way, even though it was silly. As the king's one and only prophetess, she was extremely useful. But the fact that she could do nothing active about her visions, other than relay them to someone else, made her feel so...helpless. How many times had she seen something, then been forced to watch while everyone else did something about it?

Creating the poison to change the tide of this war, the poison that would allow them to slaughter the dragons, had been the first active thing she'd really done. It felt satisfying in so many ways. Now she wondered if it was the right thing, given her vision. Every action, whether good or bad, had consequences. She gritted her teeth and growled, lashing out, kicking the base of the trunk with her booted foot before plopping down on the chair.

Always so helpless to act against what she saw.

When Cyrus had left, gone to his death, there'd been nothing she could do. When the dragons burned Belnesse? She'd gone to King Talon. He hadn't even believed her at first. When the Vodar had attacked the keep, at least she'd been able to do something. But in the end, she'd still found herself in a helpless situation, with Commander Daxton injured beyond repair. She'd been forced to watch as his mind was stolen from him, memories wiped clean. She'd been completely useless.

What good was she, if she couldn't help the ones she loved?

And then there was Bedelth...

No.

No, no, no. She scrubbed her hands over her face, sighing, leaning her elbows on her knees, looking down at the rug beneath her feet. She refused to think about him. Wouldn't even let it cross her mind.

"Saffra? Are you in there?" A deep voice called out—one she knew too well.

Her body went rigid. "Gods above," she quietly hissed, surging to her feet, turning towards the tent's entrance. Doing her best, she wrestled her chaotic mind into submission. Had the mere thought of him summoned him? "I do not wish for company," she croaked.

The tent flap fluttered and Bedelth stuck his head in. He glanced around, then frowned. Bedelth was handsome—gods, so handsome, with high cheekbones and pointed chin. His rich brown skin was near the same shade of caramel as hers. They'd come from the same territory, after all, in the east. The land of harsh sun, some called it. Austar.

She ignored the heavy weight that settled in her chest—wanted to hate him for it. "What part of 'I do not wish for company' don't you understand, Bedelth?" She immediately regretted the words. Taking a deep breath, she tried and failed to calm her racing heart. It beat faster the longer he stared.

At last, he stepped in, letting the flap close behind him. In his presence, the tent shrank. It felt small to begin with, but with the hulking form of a Drengr—not just any Drengr, but a King's Shield—there was scarcely room to breathe.

"Saffra..." His eyes searched hers. He didn't chastise her for her snappishness, which made her feel guiltier. "Claire has returned." He waited for her reaction, for which she gave none, so he added, "That was the excuse I used in coming here. Truthfully, I just wanted to see that you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" She crossed her arms.

He let out a loud, resigned breath. "Must you always push me away?"

"I'm not."

"No?" They both knew it was a lie. He ran a hand over his scalp. For as long as she'd known him, he had always kept his hair closely shorn. "Pushing me away is all you do lately. You avoid me. You won't even look at me, unless it's to glare—"

"Fine! What would you have me do? Hmm?"

He took a step forward, then hesitated. "I would have you stop fighting it."

She scoffed. "As if you don't? Why shouldn't I fight it? Nothing can come of it."

He looked as if he wanted to argue, then said, "You asked me to keep this quiet—no, you commanded me to, if I recall—and I have. But I am tired of your punishment. " He lifted his hand and rubbed his chest, over his heart, like it ached as much as hers did these days. "I did not choose this, Saffra. I did not choose for things to go this way." She tutted, but said nothing. "What happened to us?" he added, forging ahead. "You used to appreciate my company, welcome it, even—"

"That was before," she hissed. "Before I found out what we were—are—whatever."

Before they'd flown together, when he'd taken her to Verath, after Verath had insisted on being the one to trial the poison she'd made. They'd searched frantically for him. After finding him, they'd set up camp until he was well enough to make the journey back to the capital. Bedelth had offered to fly her, so that she could be there to take notes about his condition. Everything had changed that day. Everything.

"I would have told you, had I known. You know that."

"Right," she huffed. "Except you did know. And still, you chose to—"

"I did not know!" he all but roared, surging forward, taking her by the shoulders, giving her a little shake, though his hands remained gentle.

She flinched away, afraid to bear his touch. "You felt things for me, Bedelth, and you know it. That's how it is with you Drengr. You feel certain things before you know the truth. Clues. Inclinations. Things. You simply chose to keep that to yourself—your feelings, your emotions, all of it."

He made a sound of frustration in the back of his throat. "You would prefer the alternative? Prefer that I had told you? That I admit to having feelings for you, when I knew you were promised to another? When I knew that you loved him? I am not some careless youth, set on selfishly luring someone away from the person they want to be with."

"Of course not. You just sat back," she sputtered. "Sat back and you...and you let me fall in love with him." She clutched her stomach, trying to suppress the fresh wave of heartbreak. "You let me..."

Maybe if he'd stepped in, told her how he felt, that he felt something for her, she wouldn't have gone and fallen in love with Daxton. Maybe then, she wouldn't have had to bear Daxton's loss, this gut wrenching sadness, knowing that the man she'd spent years loving, didn't even remember a moment of it. Maybe if Bedelth had done something, not been so eager to sit back and watch, things would have been different.

And yet, she knew, deep down, that this was unfair. That he was, perhaps, a little to blame, but not entirely. His age made him wiser, certainly. But she couldn't pin everything on him. Knowing that, and accepting it, were two completely different things. And in her lingering grief, it was far easier to place blame, no matter how undeserved.

"Your life was yours to live, Saffra. I am a Shield. I told myself that you were better off with him. At the time, my feelings for you were not as important as my oath."

"So you just—you let me go?!" That too, hurt.

"I didn't know we were mate—!"

"Shut up!" she cried, silencing the uproar of his voice, silencing the truth between them. He froze, then pulled his shoulders back, head brushing the top of the tent. "The entire camp will hear you," she hissed, glaring at him.

His throat bobbed and he took a step back. "That's it, then? You want to ignore what we are? Sweep it under the rug?"

She took a deep inhale, closing her eyes. It had been an absolute shock, months ago when she'd discovered it. When everything had chanced. The moment she'd touched his scales, her world had fallen apart. It was still falling apart. To say she'd panicked, was putting it lightly. But even he'd panicked. It took all of two seconds for her swear him to silence. In his shock, he'd readily given his word. And that was that.

Or so she'd hoped.

"I'm not ignoring it," she said at last. "I'm choosing to reject it."

"Reject it? Reject it, Saffra? That is not how this works. You cannot simply reject—"

"We cannot be together!" she cried, chest heaving. They couldn't! They shouldn't! There were reasons, but the biggest was the most obvious. "You already know this—you said it just a moment ago! Your oath."

His mouth worked, like he wanted to contradict her. Like he wanted to say something. Like he was deciding how best to say it. This was her fault, she realized. When she'd sworn him to silence, she'd also chosen to avoid discussing it. Letting this fester was bound to result in chaos.

"Perhaps this is easier for you, than me," he said at last, his voice a low rumble. "I am a Drengr. You are my mate. I cannot simply ignore this...this wanting. Seeing you, not having you. It's driving me mad." He scrubbed his hands over his face, like he could wipe away the feeling. Warmth flooded her chest, followed by more guilt—crippling guilt. Yes, she'd decided to move on from Daxton. Yes, she was putting everything behind her, starting fresh. But those idealistic resolutions were easier said than done, and she hated that she still felt loyal to the love they'd shared.

"Perhaps if I didn't know the truth," Bedelth continued, oblivious to the turmoil in her heart. "Perhaps had your skin never touched my scales. Perhaps if I could simply walk away, never see you again, then I could ignore all of this—reject it as easily as you do. But I cannot do that, can I? I am to see you everywhere. Worse still, you aren't human, which means there will be many long years of suppressing my nature. Many long years of aching for you."

Her lips parted.

...Aching. He ached for her?

Yes...that's how she felt, too. Was it the bond? Was it...?

No. What did it matter? She squashed her feelings and donned a cloak of anger instead. Anger was easier than pain.

"What are you saying, then, Bedelth? That you would dishonor your oath? That you would ask the same of me? Dishonor our king by choosing our bond over our duty? Dishonor our kingdom by running away? Fleeing Dragonwall for our own selfish desires?"

She couldn't think about it. Couldn't entertain the idea. Wouldn't allow herself to wonder what it would be like, to have him to herself. No, no, no.

"That's not...it would not come to that, Saffra," he managed, his hesitant voice turning hopeful. He licked his lips. "Koldis, he, he found his mate..."

The tent surged around her. She took a staggering step back, ice washing through her veins. "What...what did you just say?"

"In the forest, with Claire—" Bedelth wrapped his hands around the back of his neck, looked up at the top of the tent, then swore under his breath. "I shouldn't be telling you this. It is not my secret to tell."

Too late for that!

She stepped forward. "His mate? Koldis? But..." A barrage of thoughts stampeded through her mind. "Claire never told me. Does she...does she know?"

"Of course she knows—she knew before the king. She was with Koldis when it happened."

Pain clenched her chest. She tried to ignore the squeezing pressure. Claire was not required to tell her everything. And yet, this hurt.

"She did not tell you because it was not her secret to tell, just as it is not mine."

"But you are telling me anyway!" she snapped.

"Because I am your mate, and as such, I do not wish to keep secrets," he whispered loudly. "Because I'm hoping to bring some clarity to this situation."

But she was already beyond the matter of their being mates. Instead, she was stuck on the fact that Claire hadn't said anything. Bedelth must have felt her turmoil. He groaned. "Gods above. I should not have said anything. Claire and Talon have kept it secret. No one is to know—at least for now. Do not take this as a slight against you, Saffra. Claire did not even tell Talon, she kept it from him."

"She...she did?" Perhaps that made her feel a little better—a lot better, actually.

"She did. She allowed Koldis to reveal the secret on his terms, when he was ready. Our king deserved to hear it from him and no one else."

"Oh..." was all she could say. She moved around his massive body, over to the chair, and sank down onto it. Bedelth was right, it was Koldis's secret to tell. Yet, she couldn't help feeling left out. She took a long, deep breath. Claire was a queen now, and very soon, she'd be the queen. Dragonwall's queen. It was time to accept that there would be things, as a ruler, Claire would be forced to withhold.

"I wish you to be my friend first, subject second," Claire had said earlier. And she hoped it remained true. But Bedelth was right, this had nothing to do with their friendship and everything to do with Claire's loyalty. Claire would do the same for her, keep her secrets and let her be the one to tell them.

Besides, a bigger factor stared her in the face. A glaring one, in fact. She hadn't told Claire about Bedelth. Hadn't said a word about discovering her bond with him. She couldn't judge Claire for keeping big secrets when she was keeping the biggest of all. So she dropped it and said, "Who is it? Koldis's mate? Who is it?"

"That is not my secret to tell."

She snorted. "So you'll tell me he has a mate, but not who? She knows what she is to him, then—his mate?"

"She knows."

"Is it another Sprite?" But that was a silly question, wasn't it? Of course it was another Sprite, if he found her in the forest. How ironic. Bedelth's throat bobbed, but at last he nodded. "Well," she said, "isn't that funny?" But no, funny wasn't the right word. It was...tragic. Not only did Koldis have his oath, but a Sprite and a Drengr? In what reality would that possibly work?

"So? He told King Talon, then?" she asked. Bedelth nodded. "And? What did he say?" Bedelth's mouth twitched, no doubt amused by her questions. "Are you going to tell me, or not?"

"He's given his consent."

"His...what?" Her voice came out a strangled whisper. "Koldis is being removed as...as his Shield? He's redacting his oath? But...his oath is for life."

"Gods, no." Bedelth huffed. "King Talon wouldn't allow that. He refused, actually. Said that Koldis had to remain his Shield. We've had a whole discussion about it, us Shields, that is. Talon is rewriting the Charter. Says it's outdated anyway, could use sprucing up, to get with the times and all that." He waved a hand.

Her brow furrowed. "But...I don't understand." She opened and closed her hands in her lap, staring at him, struggling to to process what this meant, though she was developing a sinking suspicion. After all, why else was he betraying Koldis's trust by telling her, if not to prove a point, to turn the tables?

"It won't be immediate," he explained. "It takes time to change laws. We are keeping it silent for now. There are more pressing matters."

Like reclaiming the fort, freeing Squall's End from the dragons.

"But..." she said again. "The Shields are supposed to serve the king above all else. That's how it's always been, since the founding of the monarchy." It was like the rug had been pulled out from under her. She was stuck in a complicated plot, but all the rules had just changed. Everything was flipped upside-down.

"Just because some ancient king—"

"His name was King Eymar—"

"I know what his name was, Saffra," he drawled, crossing his arms. His biceps bulged in his tunic. She tore her eyes away from them, looking at his face. "Just because some ancient king did things his way doesn't mean we've got to continue doing them that way. It doesn't mean his way was the right way, either. Talon made very clear that he's plenty capable of protecting himself. That he wouldn't want us to sacrifice our happiness for him."

She snorted. "Of course he said that. Gods, the fool is in love."

It wasn't meant as an insult, and Bedelth didn't take it as such. Instead, he shrugged and said, "With Claire and their future bonding, there's less threat of his bloodline dying out. I'm certain she'll give him a child, in time."

Saffra's mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. A child? She hadn't even thought that far, but it was valid. If they mated, they would presumably try for a child. Warmth flooded her chest at the thought, picturing a little toddler terrorizing the keep, how its existence would send everyone into a flurry of excitement. She'd be an auntie. And the King's Shields? They'd be uncles!

Now she wanted nothing more than to talk to Claire. A fierce burst of longing spread through her. A child!

"Huh," was all she managed to say, mostly struck speechless. It was a lot to consider. A lot to take in. She pulled herself from Claire's future prospects and thought instead about her own. "So then...the oath, us being mates..."

...was null, she realized.

Bedelth shrugged. "I'm not forcing myself upon you, Saffra. I know that you don't want me. I just want to make sure you understand that it's not the oath keeping us apart. Not anymore."

It's you, his words seemed to scream. She didn't allow herself to flench. But she felt the desire to.

The dejection in his voice made her chest shrivel in on itself. Was it true, then? That she didn't want him? She wanted it to be true. Needed it to be, to make things easier. Having the oath certainly simplified the matter, but without it...

"When did all of this happen? How long have you been waiting to tell me this?" she managed at last.

"Two days ago."

"Two days?!" she sputtered. "And you let me..."

He'd let her go on and on at the start of this conversation, knowing her argument was void. Why? Actually, did it matter? She surged to her feet. "I'd like you to leave."

Hurt flashed across his face. "Saffra—"

"Leave, please," she managed, trying to keep her emotions together.

His shoulders drew back. In that moment, he was every measure the Shield. Every measure the proud warrior she knew him to be. "Very well, Lady Saffra. As you wish." With that, he turned on his heel and slipped out of the tent, leaving an oppressive, deafening silence in his wake. Giving into her overwhelming confusion, she collapsed to her knees and burst into tears.

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐



Hi Bookdragons!

How gorgeous is the artwork of Bedelth? This was done by the lovely Grace Lloyd. She's done a number of wonderful pieces for me, and you'll get to see all of them in the coming posts. I did NOT pay her for this. She did it out of the kindness of her heart, for fun, and because of her love for all of our favorite dragons. I hope you appreciate it as much as I do. I'm certainly no artist. I can barely draw stick figures. So, color me impressed!

She also made a paper machete dragon head of Talon. We aren't sure what to do with it, so I wanted to gauge everyone's interest. It will probably cost a couple hundred dollars to ship USA based. So we don't know if we should raffle it off, or what. Thoughts??

Okay, I realized today that I haven't been putting the locations at the top of each chapter. Oops! Not sure how I forgot that, but they'll be there going forward.

I have absolutely loved reading everyone's comments so far on the first couple of chapters. I've tried to "like" as many as possible, and love that Wattpad has introduced that feature. I've commented and responded to a few of them, too. But know that I did skim through and read all of them. You guys are wonderful!

My MIL is visiting, so I don't have a whole lot of time for writing this Christmas. Whomp whomp. I'm about 55,000 words in on BTO and eager to keep writing and get more done. Anyway, I wanted to wish everyone happy holidays! No matter what holiday you celebrate, or even if you don't, I hope you are well and enjoying the remainder of 2022.

All my best,

Mel