Burning Vengeance
6.

Xander's grip on her is ironclad. The dragon's throat glows red-hot with deadly fire.

With as much strength as she can muster, she slams her foot into Xander's boot, but it's no use. "Nice try. But you're not running from me again."

"Xander, you will burn in hell for this."

"The only one burning here is you, sweetheart."

"Xander, stop this!" Alarik's order falls on deaf ears. He sprints toward her, but there's no denying it, the fire will reach her first.

"I will miss this body of yours, Fay. Shame I didn't get to enjoy it more." He thrusts himself against her back and that's when she feels it. A sharp sword at Xander's waist. She can see the dragon's fire now, roiling in its jaws. Resigning herself, she squeezes her eyes shut and awaits the worst. A rumbling growl sounds, deeper than thunder. Then intense heat rains down upon her. But she doesn't burn.

Instead, a massive shadow blankets her. Alarik's great black dragon curls his body around her protectively. "Alarik, you have good timing." His chest rumbles in response, as if to agree with her.

"Damn it, Alarik. She crushed my hand. We execute slaves for far less!" He orders the executioner dragon to shoot another flame. But Alarik blocks it easily, before rearing back and blasting the executioner dragon with white-hot blue flame.

Crying out, the executioner morphs down into his human form and scrambles away, his leg horribly burned. Alarik shifts back down into his powerful human form and storms over to Xander. "You heard me, Xander. You heard me order you to stop."

"And you heard me. She deserves to die."

It looks like Alarik's going to hit Xander, but instead, he grabs the sword from his belt. "You need blood payment? You'll have it." He digs the sword into a patch of grass that burns bright with his blue flame. When it's good and hot, he brings it to his own arm.

"Wait, you owe him nothing!"

Ignoring her, Alarik presses the blistering blue blade to his flesh. "Nngh!" She watches in horror as Alarik's flesh sears violently beneath the blade and he grits his teeth in pain. "There's your payment. Now, forget this ridiculous grudge once and for all, Xander." He throws the blade at his friend's feet.

Xander scowls. "I don't think so."

With one final look, Alarik grabs her wrist, pulls her to the edge of the cliff and leaps off. They plummet toward the ocean below. "Whoa, are you crazy?" Alarik answers by flinging her high above him and shifting swiftly into his dragon form. He catches her in his talon and carries her off into the horizon.

~W~

When they land back at the castle, Alarik drags her back to his chambers. Everyone stares at her and whispers.

He swings the door shut with so much force that it splinters. "Ignoring a direct order from me. I should kill him."

"Alarik, your arm-"

Alarik slams his injured arm into the wall. "That bastard!" Then he sinks to the floor, out of breath. "I thought..... I really thought Xander was loyal.... at the very least..." he digs his hands through his hair, his palms shaking and bruised. "I don't have any friends here. This place is a prison." Her heart aches as she stares at Alarik. She doesn't need to the mark to feel how isolated he is. Blood spills from the violent blade-shaped burn on his arm. The burn he took for her. Suddenly frightened by his rage, she backs away from Alarik. "Sorry, Fay. I know this must scare you."

From the farthest corner of the room, she watches him hide his arm from her, wrestling with his agony. Footsteps break the silence. Alarik growls as they near the door.

"Where is he..... with that girl?"

"Xander again. Damn it." Alarik growls and grabs her arm, pulling her to his large oak cabinet and throwing the doors open.

"Do you want me to hide in there?"

"In a sense." He laces his fingers with hers. Before she has a chance to react, he pulls her into the cabinet with him. Behind the racks of clothes is not a slab of wood, but a secret passageway and they tumble out into it.

"What the-"

"Come on." Alarik tugs her down the dark path.

Soon, she finds them on the roof of the castle, overlooking the breathtaking, snow capped mountains beyond. "Whoa. This is stunning. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

"I like to come here sometimes to think." Alarik steps toward the ledge, his back to her. "Fay, I need to apologize to you."

"You want to apologize? What for?" She cocks a brow. "I don't blame you for Xander, he's-"

"You remember what I said, about my curse?"

At the mention of his curse, her chest grows tight. "In exchange for your power, you...."

"I will die. In one month, on my 30th birthday." He bows his head. "It's the fate of every firstborn male in my bloodline. The fate of every king."

"But that's not fair. Your fate is just sealed?"

"It is sealed, but it's not me I'm concerned about. It's you."

"Me?"

He turns back to face her, silhouetted by the night sky. "I marked you. And this bond between us is.... different. You're different." His hands twist into shaking fists at his side. "You can feel my pain, my emotions. That's not normal. I have no idea what will happen to you when I die." His words settle over her like fallen snow. Gentle at first, then colder and colder. "I'm so sorry, Fay." He turns away again, dripping the ledge with white knuckles. "I've brought you to this deadly place, taken your freedom and.... now...." he sighs. "I may have sentenced you to a death far worse than the one Xander was going to give you." The stone beneath his grasp cracks with the force of his anguish. "I don't expect you to forgive me."

She stares at him, shaking with anger in the darkness. She turns away, hiding tears in her eyes. "Sorry. This is just a lot to take in." She turns back to the door, overwhelmed with confusion and panic. She tries the door but it seems frostbitten and stuck. She yanks on it hard, but it's no use.

Then Alarik's warm hand envelops hers and he turns the handle easily. "You're shaking. Let's get inside."

"But Xander's probably waiting for us in your room."

"We're not going to my room." Before she can ask any more questions, Alarik leads her back inside. They wind through the secret passage, until they come to a hall with many doors. Behind each one, she hears moans of ecstasy, chains clinking, gasps and pleas.

"Wait. Is this a-"

"Shh." He pulls her into a room and thrusts the door shut. When she looks around, her heart begins to pound. Whips, gags and other devices line the walls. The bed might as well be a cage, adorned with thick, iron cuffs.

"This better be hiding place and nothing more."

"It's a brothel."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Alarik strides over to a dresser, picking up a particularly revealing piece of lingerie. "They leave these for all the slaves. To.... prepare them."

A shiver runs down her spine at his words. She stares at the lingerie. "Listen, I won't be your sex slave."

"Good. That's the last thing I want you to be."

"What?"

Alarik gathers up all of the thinnest, most degrading pieces of clothing and throws them away. He carefully selects three pajamas with a decent amount of fabric and hands them to her. "Here. Change."

"That's it, just change?"

"Unless you want to sleep in a ripped, charred ball gown. We're staying here for the night. Just to lie low, nothing more."

"Oh, why didn't you say so sooner?"

"I thought it was implied."

"Well, it wasn't! I really thought.... for a second there...."

"This is the only place Xander won't come looking. He knows I hate it down here." Alarik looks around the room with disgust, then gestures to the pajamas in her hands. "Change, Fay. That's an order."

Far calmer than she was moments ago, she turns the pajamas over in her hands. "Which ones should I wear?"

"Just pick the ones you feel most yourself in."

"The most.... myself in? No one's ever asked me to do that before."

"Well, I'm asking you now." His stern expression softens to something kind and gentle. "Since we're alone, I'd like to see you choose something for yourself. Something you like." Alarik turns his back to her while she changes. When she's ready, he turns around. He doesn't say anything when he sees her in the gray sweatpants.

"Do these look okay?"

"Yes, it's just...."

"Just, what?"

"Nothing. I've just noticed you tend to avoid what you really want. And instead go for what you think you deserve." Tearing her eyes away from Alarik's, she bends down to gather up her discarded gown. "Wait. What's this?" She freezes when he brushes his hand over her lower back, where a violent burn scar mutilates her flesh.

"That's just an old scar."

"It's much deeper than your other injuries. What happened?"

She sighs, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. "I don't really know what happened, but I got it the day my twin brother died. We were playing in this old, abandoned barn.... and then everything went dark. When I woke up, he was gone and my back was horribly burned."

"God. I'm sorry."

"It's not as bad as the pain in my heart."

"I can understand that. The pain of losing a brother, it's like losing a part of your soul."

She looks up at Alarik, catching something in his eyes. Something sad and distant. "We should get to bed." Taking her hand, he guides her over to the bed, lowering her down on the mattress.

He pulls off his shirt and unbuckles his pants, stripping down to his boxers. She wants to look away, but she can't. Every curve of his Herculean body catches the candlelight, miles of smooth, sloping sinew.

"Uh, I'll just sleep on the couch."

"You'll do no such thing." He bends down over her, laying her flat on her back. His huge, hot body is just inches from her, before he blows the candle out and rises to his feet. "You'll take the bed. I'll be sleeping over there." He sinks down on the floor, his back against the door. "I won't risk someone coming in here when you're asleep. Especially Xander."

"So, you're going to be my guard dog?"

"Woof."

"Funny. But you said it yourself, Xander won't look for us in here. So, there's no reason to-"

Alarik raises an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't want to share a bed with me."

"I didn't say that.... exactly...."

"Are you.... asking me to share a bed with you, Fay?"

"I...." she pauses. Alarik stands up, his lean, athletic body casting a long shadow as he takes a step toward her.

"If that's what you want, I won't say no." He steps closer. "But I'll understand if you're still scared of me."

"Alarik, I'm not scared of you. Sleep in the bed with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure." She pulls the covers back for him. He takes one last look at the door. "It'll be fine. And if I'm honest, I'll feel safer with you beside me."

"Is that so?"

"You have saved my life, more than once."

Alarik smiles, then slips into the bed beside her, the hard angles of his body glinting in the candlelight. His thigh brushes against hers and a jolt of electricity rockets through her body. "Sorry. I didn't mean to touch you."

"That was really okay."

"You can't lie to me, Fay. Remember... I can feel your emotions too."

She catches his dark smile in the low light. "I'll be sure to stay on my side of the bed. The amount of fear I just felt was palpable."

"That wasn't fear I felt." The words leave her before she can stop them and he turns to face her.

"It wasn't?" He cocks his head. "What was it then?"

The mattress dips beneath his strong, dense body, threatening to pull her in. "It was....uh....." he shifts closer to her, looking at her in a way he never has before.

"You want to be held, don't you?" It isn't a question. He slides his body against hers and her Dragon's Mark hums. She feels something else in her too, Alarik's emotions. His growing desire. He reaches for her. "Come here."

"You're reading me wrong, dragon. I'm perfectly fine on my own." She places her hand on Alarik's chest to halt him and he stops.

"Okay. If you're sure." With a devilish wink, he settles in on his side of the bed, a respectable distance from her. Even from here she can breathe in his smoky scent and his large presence finally allows her drop her guard. "You really aren't scared."

"I told you."

"Thank you, Fay. I can't remember the last time someone felt this comfortable around me."

"Same here."

~W~

Sleep rolls in like a gentle fog and finally takes her.

Hours later in the cover of darkness, she wakes with a cold hand pressed to her mouth. A dark figure leers over her and presses a sharp blade to her throat. "Don't move, Fay."

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