The Flames That Bind Us (Daughter of Fire #1)

✔Chapter Twenty Eight: To Be Whole

Warm

The hand on my shoulder was warm, but I couldn't see it. I could only feel it, just like I felt the scorching heat around me, within me. The hand had a different presence, as if the heat from it was separate from the one that seemed to eat me up. And it was comforting, soothing.

I was back in that dream. But I had found myself amidst glowing flames rather than the freezing forest. I was yet again dressed in dark red leather, the tendrils of fire swaying at my feet crawling their way up my legs as if intending to devour me.

I felt my bones still -fear, or confusion, I didn't know. Fire couldn't harm me. I knew that as much as I did my own name.

But this one -it seemed to suffocate me, slithering its way inside and sweeping the air out of my lungs.

Yet the hand held and did not waver. Not for one second.

I wanted to turn around, to look at the one whose comfort fought the smothering embers. But my body refused to yield. It stood ground, my limbs frozen and my feet pinned to the heating earth.

Again, those figures appeared, and as usual, they looked as if they were made from pure shadows. There were four of them, and each time they grew closer. But they did nothing, only stood motionless like some forgotten ancient trees.

Three other figures appeared on my side, but my head did not shift to have a clear view of them. It never did.

Meanwhile, the flames burned around us, higher and higher.

And the whole scene felt like a picture being painted at this very moment, with the edges being slowly burned off.

And through it all, the hand never left my shoulder.

*

My eyes fluttered open, and I immediately groaned, pulled the covers over my head, and flipped to the other side at the glaring sunlight seeping through the window. Sleep still resided within me, but that dream prevented me from ever drifting back there.

Judging by the sound of chirping birds and the bright streams of the sun stripped over the wall, it was probably close to ten o'clock anyway. Which meant I had to get up and get ready for work.

I heaved a breath, snuggling close to the other unused pillow, only for the smell of musk to overwhelm my senses, mixed with the very faint scent of sex.

I debated burning it, only because it held his smell. Along with the sheets as well.

The king had come to me last night, just as he did two nights before. It already had been a week and a half since I started working in the garden -and about half a week since my cycle ended.

Coincidently, that day, the king knocked on my door when I had exited from the bath. It was awkward to find him there, standing proud with a simple tunic and pants, unlike the fine ones he wore during the day.

He didn't need to explain the reason he had come, and I only stepped aside to let him in. Luxus had excused himself almost immediately -just like he did last night -which explained why he wasn't sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed.

The king never slept -well, not beside me at least, and not that I wanted him to. He washed in the bathroom as soon as we were done then left, leaving me breathless and naked.

And to my bitter shame, completely sated.

I banished those thoughts away, kicked off the covers, and headed to the bathroom.