Chapter 06

Arlena lay motionless in Boren’s arms, her senses heightened by the closeness of his body. His breath against her neck was warm, almost searing, reminding her of the tales where dragons were said to possess the very breath of fire. The texture of his skin beneath her fingertips was unlike that of any elf—thicker, a hint of roughness, with a warmth that seemed to emanate from deep within him. It was as if she was cradled against the heartbeat of the earth itself.

Each rise and fall of his chest pressed gently against her back, causing her own breath to hitch in response. She felt caught between two worlds—the instinct to pull away and the overwhelming desire to melt deeper into his embrace. A subtle shift to ease her position only drew her closer to him. Boren’s arms tightened instinctively, his embrace firm yet tender, enveloping her in a way that made her feel both safe and exhilarated. A soft, involuntary sigh escaped her lips as a pleasant ache spread through her, and she found herself surrendering to the moment.

As he drifted into sleep, his leg draped over her waist, anchoring her to him. Arlena could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, strong and reassuring, syncing with her own racing pulse. A warmth spread through her, starting from where his skin met hers and radiating outward, filling her with a languid heat that made her eyelids grow heavy. The world outside faded, leaving only the cocoon of their shared breaths and the subtle whispers of the night.

When morning light filtered into the room, casting a gentle glow over the roots, Arlena stirred to find the space beside her empty. The lingering scent of him—smoke and something undeniably masculine—still clung to the air. She sat up slowly, on the already cold stone under her that caused a slight shiver on her skin. On the floor Atlena found her crumpled clothes, changed back into them, and carefully folded the high priestess gaunt before leaving the room.

The tree looked busy; many dragons and elves were rushing from room to room, carrying food, clothes, or medicine. Arlena walked through the main hall and left the tree from the main entrance, where another terrifying picture unfolded before her gaze. The area around the main tree was completely ruined. Dragons had dug a long trench around the perimeter and placed tree trunks in it to create a fence. On this side, most elves, helpless to stop the persistent nature of dragons, were quietly sitting on the ground and praying, with their feet under their bodies and palms carefully folded on top of one another on their knees. While some elves pleaded with the dragons to stop killing the woods, in vain, others tried to explain that if the dragons needed a fence, they could plant trees and seeds, and within a few generations, they would have a great fence. However, the dragons didn’t want to listen. They pushed elves aside or threatened to use them instead of logs.

“Where do you think you're going?” the dragon who had brought her to this tree yesterday blocked her way as Arlena was about to leave.

“I wish to see my father,” she replied softly, though her voice held a quiet determination.

“Did you seek Boren’s permission?” Bortrad’s question was more of a challenge than an inquiry.

She blinked in surprise. “Should I?”

Bortrad regarded her for a moment before gesturing toward the training grounds. “It’s customary. Come, I’ll take you to him.”

The area on the right side of the tree, where there used to be a vegetable garden, was now all flat; the grass under the dragon’s feet looked dead, and the soil had been pressed into a dry rock. They had cleared this space to install scarecrows and practice their martial arts.

As they approached, the sounds of swords clashing and warriors shouting filled the air. Yet, amidst the chaos, Boren noticed her arrival and a subtle smile played on his lips as he handed off his weapon and strode toward her. The intensity of his gaze sent a flutter through her. Unwillingly, Arlena’s gaze fell on his naked chest, and she felt a heat in her ears. The tiny beads of sweat on his skin shimmered beautifully under the bright sun. His hair was tied on the top of his head, exposing a wide neck that Arlena thought looked like a tree trunk itself.

“Arlena,” he greeted, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the stern expressions of the other dragons.

“Your friend insists I need your permission to visit my father,” she said, tilting her chin ever so slightly in defiance, though her eyes softened as they met his.

“Is that so?” Boren replied, a playful glint in his eyes. “Perhaps he’s right. —But what if I wouldn’t allow it?” He hardly hid his laughter. Boren had never had his own elf before. He used to spend nights with elves broken by the weight of war before, but they were different; their eyes looked dim, and they were barely speaking. The dragon women, on the contrary, were loud and strong. To get a dragon woman, you had to fight her, sometimes even physically, to prove that you’re stronger than her and deserve her. Otherwise, the dragon women wouldn’t even notice you. Arlena however was different in her own way, from anyone else, quite ordinary for an elf but so unique for Boren.

She looked at him with eyes full of confusion while all the dragons around them were quietly chuckling and watching them.

“I…” she started, but she didn’t know how to answer. “He was hurt yesterday,” finally she found words. “I want to make sure that he’s alright.”

“I see,” he drawled slowly and took a towel from one of the soldiers to wipe his sweat. “But why should I let you go?”

She hesitated again. “Because I ask you,” Arlena’s voice became firmer. “Please.” She couldn’t understand why he was asserting any type of control over her, especially without any obvious reasons.

Boren hurled the towel on the scarecrow and got closer. “Convince me,” he said with a smile.

“Please?” timidly, she repeated, and Boren burst into laughter.

“And what should I do with ‘please’?” He towered over her. “Give me something.” His voice got coloured in mischievous tones.

“What?”

Boren’s thumb lay on her lip, and slowly pulled it down. He didn’t explain anything, just raised her head by the chin, making Arlena stand on her tiptoes, and under the crowd’s cheering and whistling, his tongue slipped into her mouth.

As if he indeed breathed fire, Arlena’s body caught on heat. Her blood boiled, bringing along a pleasant sensation in the bottom of her stomach, and for a second, she lost her balance, falling into his embrace.

The world seemed to pause as her eyes fluttered closed, the sensation of his mouth on hers consuming every thought. His kiss was a slow exploration, tender yet filled with a restrained passion that made her knees weaken. She felt the warmth of his hand as it cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin.

Arlena’s initial surprise melted into a quiet surrender. She returned the kiss hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence, her hands finding their way to rest lightly against his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath her palm mirrored the thrumming in her own chest. A soft sigh escaped her as he deepened the kiss, his arms encircling her waist and pulling her closer.

The sounds of the training grounds faded into the background, the cheers and whispers of the onlookers becoming distant echoes. In that moment, there was only the two of them, caught in pleasure. The taste of him was intoxicating—a hint of salt and something uniquely his own.

To Boren, her tongue felt gentle, and her lips tasted sweet. Boren tightly embraced her waist, being a bit cautious not to break it accidentally. She melted like butter in his arms. And he couldn’t stop. If not for the dragons around, if not for the necessity of training, he would take her right here, right now.

Boren touched her neck and slid his fingers on the slightly chilled skin of her chest, soon reaching the small, soft peaks of her breasts. Arlena shuddered from this touch but didn’t try to resist; instead, she relaxed into his arms even more, breathing heavily. He could feel how fast her heart began to beat, like a little bird, he thought, and finally, let her go, aware that a second more and he wouldn’t be able to focus on his training anymore.

Arlena’s vision got blurred, and she hung on his chest like a willow branch, barely understanding what was going on. Breathing heavily, she looked at him and tried to take back control of her suddenly weakened feet. As if he had squeezed all the heat out of her, she felt a scorching liquid between her legs. But it didn’t frighten her; it felt inexplicably right.

When they finally parted, both were left slightly breathless. Boren’s eyes searched hers, a softness there that she hadn’t seen before. “Now,” he said quietly, a hint of a smile returning to his lips, “you may go.”

"Go?" she repeated, confused.

“To see your father,” he smiled. “Have you already forgotten?”

A subtle chuckling from the soldiers brought her back to reality. “Right,” she almost whispered. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Boren said, smirking, unable to take his eyes off her face. “Bortrad will come with you.”

Arlena looked at the soldier behind her, the one who brought her to Boren yesterday and today. “Arlena,” she slightly bowed to him and introduced herself. But he didn’t respond, just pointed her to the side of the healer’s tree.