The Taming

Bitter Wounds

WaterRose, Meadow Mountain, Grier Country

Elsabet wasn't so oblivious, upon his return to WaterRose. As usual, he was weak and exhausted. Though in rather good health compared to usual.

However, when he joined her for the evening meal her keen gaze snapped to his thigh. Her lips twisting in fury.

He followed her gaze and grimaced.

At some point, one of the minor gashes bled through his pants and began a trail down his leg.

He'd been too busy battling the cimmerii to be aware of it. Which means I had no idea it was there. Or I'd have bothered to change my pants rather than rushing in to see her!

"Elsabet." He sighed. Deflating before she even began.

"I won't." She tightened her mouth and shook her head adamantly. She rose from the table, abandoning a partially eaten plate, in order to push her chair in. "I won't say it all again. I will give you this though, envision for a moment, just one," She lifted a finger to emphasize the point. "how you would feel, were I the one constantly running off into battle and returning pulverized into mincemeat. What would be your take on that?"

He opened his mouth. Floundering for a response.

She nodded definitively. "As I thought."

She walked past him and crossed the foyer.

"Elsabet! I didn't answer you!"

"Which is answer enough. You never take that long to say something!" She headed up the stairs.

Dammit. He thought. She's right.

***

Sebastian's dinner had proven a quiet one. He'd eaten, feeling as though he'd disappointed Elsabet yet again. Always, without fail.

He knew she didn't like being the one always shouting at him.

But her emotions run as hot as her passions. How could they not?

He was wise enough to know one couldn't come without the other.

After his meal, he found himself wandering up to lurk in the one utterly abandoned room in the stronghold.

The one place no one goes.

In a way, it was the one room that every Forever Knight feared.

But I'd had such high hopes, when I'd worked it.

He made a sorrowful sound as he took one of the few seats in the room.

The only thing more unusual then Sebastian lurking in the desolate nursery of WaterRose, was someone finding him there. Which makes it the best place to sit and think when I really want time alone.

Not like when I lurk in the library in wait of Elsabet... He grunted self-deprecatingly.

No one ever came up here to look for him.

They avoid this room as if the plague were here.

Sebastian's thoughts tormented him endlessly. Eventually she will move to escape me again. And she'll expect me to let her.

Quick to distract himself from painful thoughts, he slowly rocked the chair. It was a unique piece which Acharius had made for the room.

It swayed smoothly forward and back. Shifting the weight on the rockers in a smooth transition.

He's more of a carpenter than me. Sebastian thought admiringly. He'd worshipped the piece as a great novelty when he'd first brought it in, hoping that the alpha would find it as precious as he did.

Acharius had made one for a previous home of Deragan's, and Sebastian had commented so approvingly on it that Acharius had carved one for him as well. And Sebastian had believed he'd found the perfect place to put it.

But this room was fated to never be used.

Left as alone as I feel.

Bast's gaze fell to his hand on the armrest. He lifted it wonderingly. Turning it to examine its color and texture as he swayed back and forth. He was surprised that his hands were no longer black with frostbite as they'd been by the time he'd reached WaterRose in the cold.

They should've been permanently that way.

Typically, frostbite wasn't the sort of wound that they could heal from.

Yet, somehow, she healed me. Yet again... When she could've gone.

I should set her free. Be content with whatever visits back, she might make...If there would be any...

Why did that make his chest tighten so painfully that he thought he might be ill. He put his hand there. Trying to slow the vicious beating of his heart. And the scraping of tiny dragons clawing around his torso and arms. Sensing his alarm.

It took him a moment to calm down from the sheer agony of the thought of never seeing her again.

There's no evil in her. Despite his many declarations, and the wariness of his brethren, they all knew she wasn't. Perpetually angry, yes. Evil no.

What have I been doing? But he pictured the hollowness of WaterRose in her absence. The sickly echo of his step in the foyer. The cold, dark rooms...

For without her here, what need is there for me to trim logs and keep these fires burning for her?

The answer came instantly...None.

He looked at the down-filled bed in one corner. Specifically designed to comfort a mother giving birth. He massaged his jaw with one palm. Thoughtfully looking to the artful, arcing loops engraved in the cradle. An ornate creation which Acharius had shaped, and Lucien had designed with intricate loops and flowers. It had become the dusty prototype for the one they'd given to Mardichi for his baby son.

It was their contribution to this room, first. They'd all pitched in little details in this chamber. Thinking one day perhaps their alpha might have a child to bring him solace between the lives of his bride.

A piece of his mate which might help bide the time until he sees her again.

But Deragan had denied them all that hope.

With no cruel intent at all, he'd refused. Insisting that he could never have children. He'd confessed, in a rare revelation, that he'd be unable to bear the thought of something happening to one should Radix come for her and find the child with her.