Prince of Fire | Dragonfire Book One

Capítulo Veintiuno

Each dragon only owns half a soul, and when it finds its mate, it is finally complete.

~ The Draconic Book of Songs

Chapter Twenty One

Elena woke up with a splintering headache. Her head pounded in sync with her heart. It was a small mercy that it was quiet enough that there were no loud noises to exacerbate the pain. Still, she groaned into her soft pillow and tried to go back into the sweet abyss of sleep.

"She's awake," she heard a soft whisper from far away. The voice was higher pitched, like chiming bells, and it was almost similar to Keira's voice if not for the faint accent. However, the only feminine voice she should have been hearing would be her mother's, which would have been slightly deeper and with a thick Spanish accent. And that voice was definitely not her mother's. Elena's eyes snapped open, and she hissed quietly when light flooded her vision.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized that the room she was in was definitely not her room. Panic lit her insides in a frenzy, even though her head was slightly groggy. Her hands moved around her, feeling the space. She was alone, at least. She quickly peeked down and saw that she was wearing the same outfit as the prior day. The only detail of concern was her location.

Elena tried to sit up, but immediately felt disoriented, her head spinning in circles from the jolting movement. She laid back down and instead, slowly rolled from side to side in order to see more details of the room. When she rolled to face the door, she found herself looking at a man casually leaning against the side of the threshold, staring right back at her. She nearly had a heart attack when she realized that it was Dante who was looking at her.

"Good morning," he greeted her, his lips curling up in the corners. Elena's eyes widened. Was she at his place?

"How are you feeling?" Dante asked. He had a concerned expression on his face, and his eyes scanned over her as if to examine her state.

"Fine," Elena croaked, wincing at the sound of her own voice, especially its volume. Perhaps she wasn't completely fine. "Actually, my head kind of hurts," she admitted. She tried to sit up again, and this time, she was more successful as she leaned against the bedpost.

Dante cocked his head to the side. "Wait here a moment. I'll be back," he said, excusing himself.

Elena's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she wondered why he left so suddenly. Nevertheless, she followed his directions, telling herself that she was only doing so because she wasn't quite sure where she was anyway. Elena crawled out of bed, but still stayed in the room. She looked at the wooden floor and the cabin styled walls, which seemed familiar, but Elena couldn't quite put her finger on it. She noticed her shoes on the ground and slipped them back on.

When she heard faint footsteps approaching, she knew it was Dante. Dante walked back into the room carrying a glass cup in his hand. There was an ember red liquid contained by the cup, making it look like fruit punch. He approached her, handing her the cup. "Drink this," he said.

Elena slowly took the cup from his hand and eyed the mysterious liquid. "What is this?" she asked, sniffing the sweet and spicy scent.

"It's a hangover remedy from Ancient Greece. The Greeks loved their drinks, but did not like the headaches that came after," Dante explained. Suddenly, he seemed flustered as he added, "I found the recipe from the internet."