The Taming

Sacrifices Made

Still glaring up at him and chin jutting, her hands shot out.

It was a movement so fast, he jerked. His skin glittered in the firelight as iridescent gold scales migrated below a thin layer. Ready to emerge as he fought to control his reaction to her sudden attack.

Don't change. You'll hurt her. He told himself.

Or perhaps myself. He thought ruefully. Considering how weak I am.

She fisted the shoulders of his shirt and wrenched it apart with surprising strength. Fabric tore from him. Billowing down to rest along his hips, still tucked at his waist.

Now, she's taking my clothes off? He thought forlornly. Of all the times I longed for her to do that!

His head reared back as he swayed from the aggressive movement. His gaze narrowed on her, as he considered what she was about.

He fought the urge to retreat from the ferocity on her beautiful face.

What is she doing?

It was clear she'd torn it to have a better view of his skin. To eviscerate me again? So, she won't snag a claw, when she stabs me?

That thought was a bit terrifying since he knew he couldn't heal from it, this time. He eyed her nervously.

He knew a moment of deep shame as her study dropped to inspect his washboard abdomen and chest. Don't look there.

He knew he looked dreadful. From his belt up, he was riddled with swollen marks from unleashing the dragons the day before. In the dim light, the black markings along his arms were obvious. Curving over his shoulders and pectoral muscles like gripping claws.

Grasping his heated shoulders, she roughly turned him.

He twisted awkwardly.

Would she stab me in the back?

But to his utter astonishment, he felt her gentle hands tracing the marks and recent gouges twining his skin. He stared at the floor, pained.

I look a mess. His back was a mass of damaged tissue. "I know it looks repulsive."

She was quiet so long, he felt the need to elaborate.

"I've not had time to heal." He felt the need to explain. "It'll look better in a sennight or so."

"Why do you do it?" Her voice cracked, brokenly.

"What?" His gaze roved the floor before him. He was still, enjoying her touch as her hands moved over the scabbed tears. Afraid if he moved, she'd take it away.

She's talking about getting injured protecting my brothers. That's what she means.

He tossed a shocked glance over his shoulder, and saw her eyes welling.

"Elsabet..." He chided. "Please don't. I'm fine."

Or will be soon.

"No, you're not. Look what you've done! You can barely stand. You're swaying, even now! No wonder you've been in that chair all day. I thought you just didn't wish to eat with me!"

Never the case. His gaze fell to the floor again.

"I always want to eat with you." He couldn't deny the charges, she'd brought.

They're all true.

"Does he know?" She asked angrily. "Do any of them know?"

"Know what?"

"How much you sacrifice for them?"

Now you believe me?

"I thought I only left here to lay with women?" His hurt forced a bit of bitterness into his voice.

"Don't you dare!"

She's right. That was uncalled for.

"You're just trying to change the subject because you never want to discuss this." She pushed a palm to where the scars were deepest.

"Ouch!"

"No, I don't." He winced and hissed an indrawn breath. The tissue beneath, still tender and raw.

Because you'll chastise me, yell at me, and I will still go do it again.

"Have you ever considered how others might feel, seeing you hurt and wondering if you'll live another day."

"They all know what I do."

"But not the cost, Sebastian! You're a fool."

"For helping them?" His voice rose defensively.

I won't let any more of them die!

"Look at you! Look what you do to yourself! If you wish to die, then just do it." She pushed back from him.

Her words caught him off-guard.

"That's not my intention." He spoke quietly.

He stood therewith his torn shirt hanging from his waistband. The cuffs still dangling around his wrists.

Looking pathetic. He thought.

He caught the hateful tone in her voice, making him feel very exposed. He turned to face her anger. Needing to confront her fury.

But all he saw on her face was raw agony. Not that different from how Mardichi had looked.

How can she be in that much pain.

"Why are you hurting so badly?" He asked.

"I've told you countless times!" She raged. Tossing her head in frustration. "I wonder if you'll return, each time you leave."

"Because you're prisoner here? I assure you, if I die, you walk free. All the magic keeping you, goes with me."

She gasped. Staring at him with wide eyes. "That is not what I worry about!"

She's worried about me? He took a step back from her. Eyeing her in confusion.

"Why?" She shoved his chest.

He teetered precariously and had to stumble back into a chair. Clumsily catching the armrests to guide himself down. Tumbling into the chair a bit messily. She followed him there.

"Why does it have to be you, you son-of-a-whore!"

"Because someone has to do it. Someone has to look out for them." He said softly.

"That is not what I'm talking about!"

"Elsabet, I want to understand but you're not telling me what you're so angry about. What have I done?"

"You go." She gestured to the door. "You get hurt, you barely make it back to me."

"To me?" He echoed.

"To WaterRose!" She corrected furiously.

"What would you have me do, Els?"

"Do any of them know?" She huffed.

"No." He shook his head as he admitted it. Finally. He was avoiding her angry blue gaze.

"Lucien knows what I do for Lucien. Mardichi knows what I do for Mardichi..."

"Yet none of them know what all you do! You don't tell one, what you do for the other?" She demanded.

"Why would I do that? To make them feel guilty?"

"To be honest! So they could look out for you, for once!"

"They do."

"When? When would you ever let anyone watch out for you!" She tossed her arms. Beginning to pace, while he watched her, in utter bafflement.