To Tame a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,52
glowing through his chest. His wings snapped out and rustled before flattening against his back. “Is that how you see our bond, Elliya? Empty and lifeless?”
She glared at him. “I said nothing of our bond.”
“Was I mistaken in my belief that our bond filled this place with life? With passion?” Falthyris stepped closer to her. “Was I mistaken in my belief that you had found happiness here?”
“I have found it with you. But this place is too big, too silent, too empty. There is only us. And I have a duty to my tribe, to my people. That duty did not cease when I claimed you.”
“Your only duty is to me, now,” he growled, “as is mine to you. You belong to me, human, not to your tribe. To me.”
Elliya pressed her lips together. With anyone else, she would have snapped that she belonged to no one save herself, but she knew that was not true when it came to Falthyris. She was his, just as much as he was hers.
She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and released it slowly, focusing on remaining calm. When she opened her eyes, she met her dragon’s gaze again. “If you would but come with me, you could live amongst my people, get to know them, hunt with us, dance with—”
His inner fire flared, expanding outward from his chest, and his expression became dark and savage. “I would sooner bury myself at the bottom of the sea than degrade myself by living amongst those weak, pathetic, vile insects!”
Elliya’s breath caught, and her eyes widened. His words echoed even louder in her soul than they did in the cave. Her heart stuttered, and her chest felt tight and painful, making it hard to breathe.
Falthyris’s face slackened in an instant, eyes rounding and jaw falling open as though in surprise. His heartfire dimmed, and his body went terribly still.
“Is that what you still think of me?” she asked quietly, forcing the words out of a constricted throat.
“No.” A crease formed between his brows, and he shook his head. “Not you, Elliya.”
Elliya pressed a hand to her chest. “I am human.”
“But you are not like—”
“I am no different!” Anger burned within her, overcoming her hurt. “I am one of those weak, pathetic, vile insects you speak of!”
“You are not like them!” he roared. “You are mine!”
“I am still human.”
With a trembling hand, she reached down and snatched up her bone knife. She gave him her back as she strode toward the tunnel of the cave. Her eyes stung, her vision blurred with tears, and her chest felt as though it were being crushed from all sides. She despised that he alone could make her cry, that he alone could strike her so deep without raising a hand.
“Where are you going?” Falthyris demanded, his voice rumbling through the chamber.
She felt him move, felt his presence draw closer, and she spun toward him, raising her knife and fixing him with a glare.
He halted, dropping his gaze to her weapon before slowly bringing his eyes back up to hers. “You will not harm me, Elliya.”
Her grip tightened on the handle. “No, but you have hurt me, and right now, I need to be away from you.”
Falthyris took a step closer. “I did not mean to—”
“You meant those words. You meant each one. I do not want to hear any more of your lies.” She turned and strode down the tunnel.
“Elliya!”
“I need time alone, away from you!”
He snarled, and it was followed by the sound of cracking stone and bits of rock clattering onto the cave floor. “Do not venture far!”
His words followed her through the tunnel, but Elliya ignored them, lifting her chin even as her bottom lip trembled. She could no longer hold back the tears that had gathered in her eyes; they spilled down her cheeks. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but those tears kept coming.
Elliya had never felt this kind of hurt before, this kind of betrayal. She had opened herself up completely to her dragon, and he had taken her heart within his clawed grasped and crushed it. No matter how gently, how lovingly, how passionately he had treated her, she was still a lowly human in his eyes.
When she reached the end of the tunnel, sunlight glared down upon her, and hot wind brushed over her bare skin, fluttering her hair. Between her tears and the intense light, she could barely see. But she could only bring herself to pause