Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) by E.E. Everly (motivational books for men txt) 📕

Heat swept over me. The lips were used for so much kissing in this realm and not just between husband and wife! I pulled my hand back.

“Oh, I’ve offended you,” Arnall said. “I thought that’s how I should greet such a fine lass. I don’t normally kiss a lady in such a way.”

“Come now, Arnall, that’s enough. You’ll frighten her off.” Owein winked at me. “It took a bit of encouragement to convince her to join us.”

“So you’ll be coming, will you? We should arrive at the festival in six days. There’s a town between here and there. We plan on one night to bathe and freshen up. I’m sure you’ve seen this lot. They could use it.” Arnall eyed my long legs. “Think you can handle the hike? I imagine those stringy legs of yours don’t get much exercise when you’re flying on such a beast.”

“I’m stronger than I seem.” I had more than enough strength to whip them all in hand-to-hand combat, and I counted a dozen and a half in our group.

“Where’s your creature?” Arnall asked.

“Creature?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“I see how it is. Did you get a look at the beast, Owein?”

“Beast? I found no beast. Must’ve been an apparition.” Owein wiggled his brows.

Arnall scoffed. “Now you know everyone saw the winged lizard. Like a pearl her flesh was. No beast I’ve ever seen was a color like that. Unnatural.” Arnall puffed out his chest and elbowed Owein. “Like pearls in the markets. Don’t pull the wool over my eyes. You convinced us to stay in camp and not seek the pretty lady out. Told us she was dangerous, but I see your ploy.” Arnall leaned toward me. “Has he charmed you with his good looks and charisma? I’ve never been a match for him. The ladies back home couldn’t ever turn their eyes from Owein.”

I laughed. Owein was right. Arnall was an agreeable character. At least the trip would be entertaining and educational.

SIX

After another long day of travel, Owein sidled up and sat beside me on the log. “I’m trying to wrap my mind around these other planes.”

I’d held up, despite Arnall’s ribbing about my legs. Three days on the road so far. Three days with the mortals. The travel was a different sort of adventure than what I was used to. I might have enjoyed myself more if I wasn’t constantly thinking about Aneirin.

The woodsy scent of a cooking fire wafted on the air, and I was lost in the dance of its flames. With each flicker, I saw Aneirin’s face. His emotions played through me, multiplied by Catrin’s final judgments on the ledge. I had become a seething bomb, which I knew would go off eventually. The coiling and packing of my emotions to protect Seren from the brunt of them would compound the explosion. I was playing a dangerous game.

I blinked as Owein’s words filtered into my brain. I realized he was starting our game. He knew he could trick me into giving more of my secrets away, one by one. I thought this hilarious. Seren—who was asleep and waiting for me to slip away once the caravan slept for the night—was usually less than amused by his antics.

“Are they different planets with their own suns or are they just other countries separated by the seas on this gargantuan rock?” Owein studied the line of my jaw. He had taken to studying every aspect of my face lately.

I didn’t turn my head but imagined my pupils dilating as the flames filled my vision and entranced me. I hadn’t the energy to goad Owein. “What do you think?”

“Seren could fly you across the sea, I have no doubt. But if Seren flew you across the sea, then others would have done that. What makes you special? Why here, and why now?”

“That, Owein, is the big question.” Why me, why here, why now?

His fingers curled around my wrist. They were warm and heavy, confident. Owein was always confident. “You’ve become more stoic over the past three days. It doesn’t take an immortal to see that.”

I blushed. Owein had assumed I was immortal. He was making a lot of assumptions, and I didn’t correct him. Not if he was right. Deep down, I wanted someone to know all about me, as much as Aneirin knew. I wanted a level of intimacy I was familiar with, but at the same time, I was fearful of opening my heart. Intimacy led to caring, which led to hurt, which led to being crushed. Somehow I hadn’t quite accepted my broken heart. Because then the bomb would go off, irrevocably cracking me, shattering all that remained of my hopes.

When I didn’t answer, Owein plowed on. “I know what you’re thinking.” He mocked my voice. “If I have to stand one more day with this crazy lot, who stinks of onion and horse crap, I might lose my mind. I’m regretting leaving the immortals, who brush their hair smooth until it shines”—Owein raked his fingers through his short hair and pretended to toss it over his shoulder—“who bathe in floral-scented oils”—he sniffed his tunic and gagged—“whose men fawn over their women’s every smile and eye wink…”

Owein nudged my leg with his as if to ask if he was correct.

I pressed my mouth into a thin line.

“You miss the pleasure of your dragon fetching you a meaty lamb to roast right before your eyes?”

He was reaching. I cracked a smile.

“That’s better,” he said.

“The dragons do not fetch our dinner for us,” I said. “And the men do not fawn over us.”

“But you do primp. Your beauty far surpasses ours, I gather. They must be dainty where you’re from.”