Page 52 of House of Ashes
“Shh,” he murmured. “You’re in my hands now. It’ll pass.”
A few more spasms wracked my leg before it passed, the pain relieving almost instantly. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead.
But I could thank the pain for one thing: it had clarified my mind, blasting through my exhaustion and bringing with it the intense awareness that Rhylan would be able to scent my desire for him in the close, humid air of this tiny room.
I’d nearly lost myself to the dragonbloods’ primal instinct, losing all rational intellect.
Rhylan released the pressure, using the ball of his thumb to massage the muscle while pushing my leg towards my chest. I winced, fingers clenching as another tiny quiver went through my leg.
This one didn’t erupt into pain, not with Rhylan intensely pressing the muscle at certain points. He moved from the back of my knee, steadily working his way down, and when his fingers brushed my inner thigh, a shudder went through me.
He froze, the heat of his hands soaking into my skin, a white-hot brand everywhere he touched.
I wanted him so deeply it ached, an almost physical pain embedded in the construct of my being. We were born for this, for a draga to become one with a dragon, the natural instincts of the creatures we were descended from ingrained within our very bones.
He stared at me, eyes burning, nostrils flaring when he smelled my desire.
“Sera,” he said huskily, fingers tightening to dimple my flesh, only inches away from where I wanted him to touch…
No. No.
He had chosen me out of pity.
A bond could never be equal when one pitied the other. One day that pity would become weariness, and finally contempt.
There was no future for us. I would have love, or nothing.
This had to stop before that ravenous, craving instinct ruined everything.
“It hurts,” I said harshly, my voice too loud. “I can do the rest on my own.”
Like I’d thrown ice water in his face, the embers in his gaze died. He released me like I was a hot coal, rising to his feet in one smooth motion.
His face, so open with desire a moment ago, was now a closed book. A fist seemed to be squeezing my heart, measuring each beat in its indifferent grasp.
Instincts were simply nature. Anything more than that wasn’t in my cards.
“Here’s the sense I’ll talk into you,” he said, looking away as he wiped his face. “Cool down and stretch right after you train. You know that much from the godsdamned Training Grounds.”
He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me alone on the floor.
I finished the stretching on my own, rubbing the cramps from my muscles as I held back whimpers.
If there were tears mixed with the sweat on my face…well, no one would be able to tell.
Chapter
Eleven
Iscrubbed my hands across my face, doing my best to eradicate all traces of the tears as I quietly shut the bathroom door behind me.
It was easy enough to wipe a towel across my face and let out several deep breaths, pretending I was just winded from the jog back up the spiral staircase. Nilsa said nothing as she ran the bath, going through the same silent motions as she did every morning.
I wondered if she felt ill-used by the Obsidian Flames, being assigned to wait on me, of all people. In every House, the servants spoke amongst themselves, whispering about the dragonbloods they served. Although Viros seemed to be in my corner, I wondered about the rest of them.
Even days later, I knew at least one of them had to have seen my shameful outburst at Rhylan, and that had almost certainly been whispered about.
But, as my mother would have said, dwelling on silly mistakes would earn me nothing in the future. All I could do was uphold the façade that I was the perfect Dragonesse-to-be.