Camp, Celenore

Saffra heard the commotion first, before she saw their return. She ran to collect Desaree and Jocelyn. "They're back," she gasped, bursting into the tent they shared. She'd been wandering camp, stuck in her thoughts.

Now those thoughts had wiped clean, and all she could think about was her eagerness for news. Together, they raced to the command tent where they found Miera and Selphie. "They're back," they all blurted together. Both Sprite handmaidens froze, eyes going wide, then dropped the gown they were working on. The five of them rushed to the edge of camp.

She had to admit, wearing pants and a tunic made life much easier, especially here in camp. Where before she'd have to fuss with skirt hikes, this eliminated the need. Sure, it was less...feminine, perhaps, but it also made it easier to run, to move, to breathe. And besides, there was still something entirely feminine about displaying even more curves.

They came to a stop at the edge of the field. Others had the same idea in mind. Half the camp had spilled out to watch the return.

Her stomach filled with flutters, eyes searching the sky. Wing formations of Drengr and their Riders descended. She spotted several orange dragons, but none of them were Bedelth's shade of orange. The vibrant hues that only he possessed. He'd always been beautiful to her. Perhaps because she'd grown up in the arid climbs of the east, where deserts spanned to the horizon and beyond.

Orange was warmth and positivity, it was the rising and setting sun, it was a bright smile, a fierce exclamation, a thing that stood out. "It's my favorite color," she muttered, making the realization, but keeping her voice low enough to go unheard. She'd always loved bright colors. Yellow had been a favorite for a long time, paired with pastel pink. But people changed, she had changed. When...when had that happened? How had it happened?

As she stood at the edge of the field, eyes searching, biting at the skin on her lower lip, she realized something she hated to admit. If she could have any color, wear any color, look at any color all day, it would be the shades of Bedelth's scales. "Godsdamn it all to hell," she muttered under her breath.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Jocelyn asked, taking her hand, warm brown eyes searching. Jocelyn's fingers brushed over hers, soft, soothing. Her handmaiden always knew when something was wrong. She was perceptive—too perceptive.

"I...I am fine, Joce," she said, steadying her voice.

Jocelyn's eyes lingered, but at last she nodded, then released Saffra's hand and turned towards the field. A small gasp of delight fell from Jocelyn's lips. "Look," she cried, "there is Lord Bedelth."

Saffra's pulse kicked up. "Where?" she managed. But even before Jocelyn could answer, she saw him, already transformed, striding towards them. His long legs ate up the distance with each step. Her breath caught. Somehow, he was always bigger than she remembered. Whenever he was near her, regardless of form, he towered over her, with bunched muscles and broad shoulders.

Daxton had been taller than her, and muscular, with nice firm lines. She'd always enjoyed looking at his arms, his chest, all of him, really. But as she allowed herself to do the same with Bedelth, she felt the fiery rush of heat in her cheeks. And yet, she couldn't stop herself, couldn't stop the way her eyes traced the lines of his body, the way his black tunic fit snuggly over him, ending at his hips, pants clinging to his every muscle. His Sverak was belted to his waist. Bandoliers crossed his rigid chest, a shorter blade in each.

There was nothing wrong with looking, was there? Just because she appreciated his body, didn't mean she was required to accept their mate bond—

A shoulder nudged hers. She blinked, turning. Jocelyn stared at her, eyes prompting.

"What? Oh..." An unpleasant tingling spread up the back of her neck, sending waves of embarrassment with it. "Forgive me, did you say something?" This, she asked Bedelth, because he was standing square in front of her, clearly waiting for an answer.

The corner of his lips twitched, but he didn't smile. Was he...amused? "I just asked if you would walk with me, Saffra. A few minutes, if you can spare it."

"Oh..." She mentally kicked herself. Was that the best she could come up with? She glanced around. "Claire?"

"Still with the king—in Squall's End. They will stay for the night." He held out his arm. An invitation.

"All right." Her chest tightened. "I'll see you back at camp," she said to the others before he led her away.

Why did he want to get her alone? Was he trying to push the mate bond again? And...did she want him to? Perhaps a small part of her did. A small part of her liked knowing that someone wanted her. Especially if that someone was a powerful Drengr—no, not just any Drengr, a Shield. But—

"I thought you would want to know what happened out there today," he said. "Don't worry, I will make it quick. I know you do not wish to be in my company longer than necessary."

She grimaced. "Bedelth..."

"No, it's really quite all right," he said, his deep voice humming through her. "I understand."

But...did he? She tried to answer. Tried to say something. Words stuck in her throat.

"Everything went smoothly. Your poison did the trick, though it didn't work on all of them, for whatever reason. Likely, they didn't all drink from the lake water. But a vast majority did."

"Casualties?"

"None. Well, I took a bad scratch—"

She sucked in a breath, whirling to face him. "You-you're all right?" Her eyes darted over him, searching. There were no signs of harm.

His brows pulled together. He watched her assessment, though he didn't say anything. His lips pressed into a hard line. Finally, he nodded. "I'm all right."

She exhaled.

They resumed their walk, dodging around the Drengr bodies in the field as their Riders dismounted so they could transform. If she had to guess, the armor they wore was much like their clothing. If they transformed with it on, it would stay in place when they changed back. All around them it was a rush of activity and noise, so no one paid them any mind. That, in and of itself, offered privacy.

"The pregnant females took Claire's offer," Bedelth continued. At those words, muscles unknotted in her shoulders. Thank the gods! She hadn't realized how nervous she'd been about that, about what she'd seen in her vision. "All but one."

She missed a step."All but...but one? Did she...?"

Die?

"Still alive. Claire would not allow anyone to harm her. She will be permitted to birth her eggs, but then she will die for her choice. Claire has made it clear that she will be the one to do it. She's brave, to both issue the command and swing the sword."

Cold trickled to the tips of Saffra's fingers. She cleared her throat. "I suppose that is fair, if the female made her choice."

Bedelth nodded. After that, he informed her of the remaining details, talking about how quickly everything was over, no sign of Kane, and the process of disposing of the bodies. Claire would remain in Squall's End with Talon for the night, to handle political matters with Lord Rhal. After that, they would return. Camp would be disassembled. Then everyone would depart for the capital, or Fort Squall.

"I am to understand that you will return by ship," Bedelth added. "Unless—" He stopped himself.

Something dropped into her belly, a ball of fiery warmth. Was he suggesting what she thought he was? She hated to admit how the notion thrilled her. Even as a young girl, she had harbored a bit of jealousy for Riders. Who didn't? The idea of coming and going, flying wherever they pleased on the backs of their Drengr, was enticing.

"Are you asking if I wish to fly home with—?"

"No," Bedelth answered, too quickly. Her skin warmed. It stung, even if it was a lie. He was only trying to protect himself. She swallowed, pushing down her embarrassment. It shouldn't have bothered her. So...why did it?

Gathering what little courage remained, she said, "Was that all you wanted to tell me?" Her voice came out steely. Cold. He flinched, then nodded. "Very well, then. I'll take my leave."

He didn't move, didn't respond. She backed up, then stopped herself. "Bedelth?" Something like hope exploded across his features. "I am glad you are safe—that you are okay."

His throat bobbed. He gave her a single nod, recovering, then turned and strode off in the opposite direction. She watched him go, frozen in place, before returning to her tent.

~

"He did what?!" Jocelyn gasped. "You...how could you keep this from me for so long?" Hurt passed over her features, there and gone. Saffra didn't say anything. What was point, in making excuses? At last, Jocelyn sighed. "Does anyone else know?" Saffra shook her head. "Not even Claire?"Saffra shook her head again.

A dull ache filled the back of her throat. "I need to tell her," she croaked. "It just...there hasn't been a convenient moment. Claire has—well, she has a lot on her plate."

"Those are excuses, and you know it."

"I know it," she repeated, feeling worse by the moment. "I'm being a horrible friend."

"No, you're being..." Jocelyn barked a laugh. "I want to say 'you're being human,' but what does that even mean? Especially since you aren't truly human."

"It's a saying."

"Obviously," Jocelyn deadpanned, "but, when a Drengr makes mistakes, when a Sprite makes mistakes, do we still say 'your are being human?' Why must humans bear the brunt of the analogy? Better to say, 'you're being typical of the norm.' Ha! I like that much better."

A small smile pulled at Saffra's lips. "You know...you're right. I never thought about it that way."

"We all make mistakes, Saffra. We all have things to grapple with, some of us more than others." Jocelyn lifted a knowing eyebrow. "You have always carried a great deal of responsibility, since the day you started working for the king. You're allowed some privacy to think. You're not obligated to tell your friends everything important the moment it happens. But for the sake of the gods, don't let it bottle up inside you, until you're crushed under the weight of it. Let us share some of your struggles. I am willing to share all of them." Jocelyn reached for her hand and squeezed.

Saffra's eyes blurred. Before she realized it, tears were free-falling down her cheeks. "Thank you," she managed. "You're a better friend than I deserve."

"Hardly," Jocelyn laughed, then pulled Saffra towards her, until they were hugging and laughing. A hiccup escaped her chest, then another, and then they were laughing even harder. "Now, tell me exactly what happened?"

So, Saffra explained everything, from the moment she touched Bedelth's scales, to their final conversion. She filled in the holes with mortar, and elaborated on her feelings, Bedelth's reactions, all of it. With every word, her chest and shoulders felt lighter. It was a weight lifted, sharing this secret with someone who knew and understood her.

"Are you going to accept his offer then? To fly back to Kastali Dun with him?"

Saffra made a choking sound. "Are you serious? No. I'm traveling back by ship with you and Desaree, the way we came."

"You don't have to, though. Des and I will be fine. Verath is coming to make sure we are okay. He'll look after us, not that we need looking after, but you know how these Drengr males are. So protective." Jocelyn lifted an eyebrow, letting the additional meaning go unsaid.

She scoffed. "I don't think I can fly with him."

Jocelyn snorted. "I've heard your reasoning and it's nonsense. Most of it, anyway. Yes, you feel guilty about falling for someone else so soon after Commander Daxton. Yes, you understand that Bedelth is a Shield, that he will have plenty of duties for the king, even though he's made it clear the king plans to change the charter. Yes, he failed to act on his feelings when you were courting Daxton, but to be fair, you were younger then, Saffra, much younger. He's old—relatively speaking, I mean." Jocelyn shook her head. "We both know none of those reasons are good enough. No, I know exactly why you're denying him, why you're avoiding the bond."

Saffra huffed, crossing her arms. "Save your breath, Joce, It's not going to happen. Whatever your supposed reason, it doesn't matter. Just because we're mates, doesn't mean we must end up together. Frankly, it's annoying that everyone believes it. 'Oh, they're mates? When is the bonding ceremony?' they immediately ask. It's like...like, we are given no choice in the matter. It's ridiculous, if you ask me. Everyone is so lovesick. I'm tired of it."

"You're being such a coward," Jocelyn said, shaking her head, her voice serious.

"Excuse me?" Saffra's skin turned cold.

"I said it, and you heard me. You're being a coward. You had nothing against love when it was you and Dax. But the second things change? Bedelth is a good person, one of the best. I know you don't want to hear it, and if you were anyone else, you'd accuse me of overstepping. I'm not saying this as your handmaiden, I'm saying it as your friend. You're scared to get hurt again, after Dax. Rightfully so! No one can blame you. But...in keeping yourself guarded, you're hurting him in the process. You should tell him the truth. He probably thinks you don't want him, that he's not good enough—"

"I don't," she managed, her voice wobbling. "Want him, that is."

"Yes! But it's because you're scared. You owe him that truth. And if you refuse to fly home with him, it will only further protect you. You can't hide from this, you can't run from this." Jocelyn sighed. "If you really aren't interested, that would be one thing. But I know that's not the case, and deep down, you do too. Believe me, I've seen exactly how you react in his presence. I've seen it time and again. So don't spew this nonsense. Own up to it!"

Saffra opened then closed her mouth. Jocelyn was right. She shrank in on herself, shoulders slumping. "I don't want to go through it again, Joce. He's...he's a shield. We're at war. All it would take is...is..." She couldn't even say it. One wrong move, and Kane would deal them a heavy blow. There was no guarantee they'd all make it out alive. Cyrus hadn't.

"Fine. What if he died tomorrow?" Jocelyn asked.

"What?!" she hissed. "Don't...don't talk like that."

"I'm serious, Saffra. What if he died tomorrow?"

Saffra gazed at her handmaiden, lips parted, eyes wide. She let the question sink in. What if? No, she didn't want to think about it. She clenched her fists, squeezing tightly. It did little to calm her heartbeat. It thundered in her ears. If Bedelth died tomorrow...

"He would die believing I didn't want him," she managed. It was a punch to the gut, awful and sad.

But, did she want him? Could she admit it? Did she have the courage to face this thing? To allow her heart to open up, after such a horrible break?

"There," said Jocelyn, wiping her hands and getting to her feet. "I need to find Desaree. But...I think you have your answer."

Saffra's mouth opened, eyes widening in alarm. "Answer to what?!"

"To whether you should fly home with him, silly. Duh." Jocelyn only grinned at her, then disappeared from the tent, leaving the flaps to settle into place.

~

Bedelth was in the command tent when she found him later. It was nearly empty, except for two others. She winced as silence fell. Awkward glances passed between all of them. Her hands balled into fists. Coming here had been so...so stupid.

Courage...she reminded herself, taking a deep breath.

A throat cleared. "I think I shall go and find Desaree," Verath announced at the same time Jovari blurted, "I just remembered that I promised to...do something." Both of them rushed out, leaving her very much alone with Bedelth. He'd jumped to his feet, chest rising and falling, regarding her.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the sight of him. She placed her hands over her belly, as if it might calm her. It didn't. Instead, it drew Bedelth's attention towards the motion.

His mouth flattened into a grim line. "Lady Saffra," he said, more formally than necessary.

"I..." The word came out like a frog's croak. Heat prickled her skin. "Never...never mind. I shouldn't have come," she gasped out, turning on her heel. The tent flaps loomed before her, two steps to freedom—

Gentle hands closed around her waist, halting her, pulling her back. Those hands were large and warm, enveloping her. She sucked in a breath. Bedelth released her and stepped away almost immediately, but the damage was done.

Gods! He'd moved so quickly. Across the tent in a blink.

She rounded on him, swallowing. She'd never admit how she was feeling. Never admit how quickly her heart was racing at his touch. The sensations that erupted because of it.

She hated it. Hated herself for it. Hated the guilt still clawing at the back of her throat. Hated the fear. Hated how even the thought of getting close to someone sent her cowering, clawing at wounds that hadn't yet closed.

"What did you come to say?" Bedelth asked. She also hated the hope shining on his face, that he so carelessly let it show.

"There's...I owe you the truth," she admitted, still searching for her voice. Taking a deep breath, she charged on. "I'm not ready for this, Bedelth. That's why I pushed you away, made you think I didn't want you. It was wrong of me." His eyes widened, lips parting. "Do not mistake my words for acceptance," she clarified. "I'm not accepting this thing...this...bond. I have a lot on my mind. Everything is so fresh, I feel guilty for even letting myself entertain the possibility."

His mouth opened—

"No, let me finish. This decision has nothing to do with you—you must understand. You're..." She sighed. It sounded a lot like surrender. "You're handsome—no, that doesn't do you justice. Handsome is too...mundane. You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen. When I look at you, my blood hums, my heart races, my skin burns. But I can't let myself go through any of it again, the heartbreak, the hurt. I'm trying to move on from Dax, but that doesn't mean I need to move straight into your arms."

Heavy silence fell between them. She waited for him to process her words. Then he huffed and said, "You think I'm the most beautiful creature you've ever seen?"

A shocked laugh burst from her chest. "That's what you're fixating on?! Out of everything I just said?"

He took a step closer. Their chests were nearly touching. She had to tilt her head back to see his face clearly. She could smell the smoke wafting off him, mixed with a hint of male musk. It took a great deal not to close the distance between them, but her fear was good at keeping her rooted in place.

"I'm fixating on the part I liked the most, yes. But...very pretty declaration, Saffra. I admit, your words are eloquent, well thought out, logical, even, yes. But beneath it all, all I hear is your fear. You're scared." He arched a brow in challenge, as if waiting for her to refute it. Daring her to, even.

She groaned in frustration, throwing up her hands. Needing to move, she walked away from him to pace the tent. "Of course I'm scared, Bedelth. That's why we're not doing this. That's why I can't."

He scoffed. "Let me get this straight, you're scared, so you choose not to accept this thing between us? You? The Great Lady Saffra? The king's prophetess? The woman who changed the course of not one, but two wars? You're scared?"

"Stop!"

"No, no, I don't think I will." He stalked over to her. His brisk pace had her scrambling backwards until her thighs struck the table and she leaned back into it, grasping for purchase. He towered over her, and if she didn't look up, she would be forced to stair at his clavicle, so nicely on display.

"Being scared of heartbreak is a valid excuse," he growled. "But I don't think that's what you're really scared of, is it?"

Her throat dried up. She swallowed once, twice, to no avail.

"No, you're scared of how happy I'll make you, if you accept the bond. You're scared that I'll love you so godsdamed fiercely, it will shatter everything you ever had with him. Pulverize it into dust. You're scared that you'll regret your choices with him. Scared that—" He stopped himself, breathing hard, then added, "Shall I go on?"

"No," she half gasped, half whispered, eyes wide. Yes. Gods, yes. She wanted him to keep going—needed him to stop. Her breaths came faster and faster. "Please, stop."

"All right." He stood a little straighter, crossing his arms. They were so close, she could feel the heat radiating off him. "So, then. Are you going to fly home with me tomorrow, or not?"

"What?!"

"That's why you came here, ultimately, was it not?"

"I...no, it's not," she snapped.

"Oh?" He lifted both brows. Damn him. Finally, he took a breath. "Look, I'm not asking you to rush into anything, Saffra. You were hurt. I understand. None of this has played out cleanly. We have a long time to consider our options. All I ask, is that you don't continue to shut me out. Fly home with me tomorrow. You might find that you actually enjoy it."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she managed to whisper. Because he'd been right. She feared what she might feel, if she got close to him. Feared how much she'd like it.

He huffed. "Yes, I know it all too well." He uncrossed his arms and lifted a hand. Warm fingertips brushed along her jawline, the gesture tender. Shivers raced over her skin. "Fly home with me tomorrow," he said again. There was so much in his voice. Hope, longing, excitement. Jocelyn had already given her blessing. But if she flew with him—

"Do the others know?" she asked, realizing what the other Shields would think, seeing them together.

"That we're mates?" he asked, lifting a brow. She nodded. "I haven't said a word, but yes, they gleaned the information well enough. Koldis was first to pick up on it, I think."

She exhaled. Okay, then, the secret was out.

"Flying with me tomorrow won't tell them anything they don't already know, Saffra."

"What about my mind? My thoughts? I'm not ready to share any of that." With you. She left that part out.

"I'm not asking you to."

Her heart raced faster and faster, taking off into a full blown gallop. Was she really doing this? "And, if I agree? I have your word that you won't continue to press me on the mates matter? That you won't take this for acceptance?"

"You have my word. There does not need to be strings attached. You're flying home with me, nothing more, nothing less."

"And if I don't change my mind? If I never want to...to complete the bond?"

His throat bobbed. "Then I accept your decision."

She nodded, tucking her trembling hands behind her back. It felt a lot like relief. Despite everything he'd said, most of which was correct, it didn't change anything. She wasn't planning to take him as her mate. Wasn't planning to surrender and allow the fates to use her as a punching bag. She was in control of her own choices, and she refused to let anyone, even fate, change that.

"All right," she said at last, lifting her chin. "I'll fly home with you."

The corners of Bedelth's lips twitched. Then they pulled until a genuine smile spread across his face. He nodded once, then stepped back. "Excellent. I look forward to your company." His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, dropping briefly to her lips, then he turned on his heel and left the tent, leaving her very much alone. Very much subjected to her own self conscience, to question if she'd just made the most rash decision of her life.  

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐

Hello Bookdragons!

This has been one of my favorite chapters to write for this book. I love seeing Bedelth and Saffra interact, getting to know them better. I'm really excited to see where things go with them. 

Next week's chapter is from Claire's POV. We get to see a little of Fort Squall in ruins, and Tamara and Byron, as everyone wraps things up, and prepares to head their separate ways again. Which means we're that much closer to Claire returning to Kastali Dun. Yay! Because you know what that means.

I hope you're having a great week! See you next Friday.

Mel