Chapter Eighteen
Libelle closed the door behind Eskil, a dragged out sigh passing her trembling lips. She rested her head against the door, staring down at the brass knob and twisting the lock. The strong smell of blood stained the air and she turned around to face Eskil, his wounds needed treatment or he risked infection.
She led him towards her bed, silently directing him to sit down while she examined his wounds. His lip was cut, his cheekbone bruised, his left hand bloody with a clean hole pierced straight through the tendon-filled area. His forearm was the worst, the dagger did not slice cleanly through his limb, and by pulling his arm from the chair he inflicted more damage. Blood continuously oozed from the wound, the blood bright red and oxygenated.
She placed her hand over the wound, a faint and familiar glow emitting from her palm as she once again used magic to heal him. Eskil watched her quietly, his energy sapped by the effects of the magic the gods had gifted her with. Her rage had seemed to subside, her expression growing tenderer as she sat beside him.
Eskil followed a tear that fell from her long lashes, traveling down her rosy cheek. Another tear followed, then another, not long after a current of tears she could not control rushed down her face. Instinctively, he pulled her into his lap and against his chest; stroking her damp hair and whispering comforting words to her.
“Calm yourself my little elf, calm down.” He cooed. “Shhh, I am alright.”
Her body shook with her tears, and her slender arms wrapped around his neck. He gently rubbed her back, his hand still needing healing as blood attempted to stain the red silk fabric.
“Shhh,” He whispered again. “Calm down, I am alright. My wounds are not serious.”
She sniffed back her tears, the effort futile as the salty liquid dampened his shirt.
He kissed her temple, a faint smile on his lips. “Libelle, easy now love. Beloved, look at me.”
She raised her head, her delicate fingers wiping away her tears before she made eye contact with him. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.
Eskil kissed her forehead. “Beloved, you have nothing to apologize for.”
“Gaalin, he-he hurt you. If I hadn’t left-”
“If you hadn't left he would have grown suspicious, and like you said: we’d both be on our way to the chopping block if someone was to find out about us. I understand, you separated us to protect us. Just because the grey skin felt like throwing a tantrum, doesn't make it your fault.”
He kissed her nose this time and she stared up at him, her eyes showing her pain.
“I felt it, I felt your pain and your anger. How is that possible?”
He pulled her back to his chest, his arms protectively wrapped around her. “Libelle, you’re my lifemate.”
Her arms wrapped around his neck even tighter. “What does that actually mean? I, I understand that it's similar to a soul mate?”
He inhaled her scent with a slow inhale. “Libby, beloved. A lifemate is so much more than what a mortal considers a soul mate.”
“Explain it to me. Explain how I can feel an incredible attachment to you, after years of fighting you. Explain how I lust over you, how I can't get enough of you, how I feel like I am growing to love you.”
“I will. I’ll explain everything.” He pushed themselves apart so he could look at her face. “First though, let’s tend to my wounds so I don't bleed all over your room. Alright?”
She lightly chuckled and nodded.
Eskil soaked in the faintly warm water that smelled of lavender while Libelle gently scrubbed his chest with a soft cloth. His head was resting back on the copper rim of the tub while he spoke to her.
“A dragon’s lifemate is not chosen at random, nor is it something we can decide. Our lifemate is chosen by Freyja, the goddess of love. Its fate, and nothing we do can change fate. Freyja and Freyr made it so only male dragons sense their lifemate, the females can sense it when we are near: but they don't have a constant drive to find him. Some sick twist that makes us go crazy searching for her, and until we find her we are nearly mad. Some dragons are fortunate enough to find their lifemate at a young age, while others can go almost their whole life without ever finding them. I told you before that somehow, when we see her: we just know. We look at her, then it’s as if the world stops and begins to revolve around her.”
“It sounds very special.” Libelle whispered.
“It is. A dragon's lifemate, there can only ever be one of them. They mate for life, never sharing each other with anyone else. The desire to betray their partner, it's never been felt. We become hopelessly devoted to the other. A dragon’s desire is to make their lifemate happy. We want her to always smile, to never feel fear or pain. We want to protect her. We would do anything for her, even if it meant dying for her.”
He smiled when a flicker of fear crossed her expression, he rubbed her cheek and traced his thumb over her lower lip.
“Dragon's bind to their lifemate on a deeper level than some verbal contract. Our souls are two pieces that make one. Our physical souls bind together, bound by vows that can never be broken. Only death could separate us, and by all the gods in existence I would never let that happen. When our souls are bound together, so are our hearts and minds. We can feel the other's emotions; their joy, sadness, anger and fear. We can feel their pain as if it were our own. We always know where the other is, and we will always be by their side.”
He sat up and pulled her close when the soapy washcloth paused against his chest, he kissed her lips, the kiss gentle but full of his desire for her. “It’s how I always knew where to find you. It’s how I always knew what you were feeling. It’s how you felt my pain tonight, and it's why you felt such rage when I was hurt. I am yours beloved, I belong to you for now and forever. You are mine, and you belong to me for now and forever.”
Libelle nodded at him in understanding, her eyes puffy and red. She squeaked in surprise when he pulled her over the metal rim of the tub and into the cooling water, it was still pleasantly warm, but he was much hotter. He untied her silk robe and removed it from her body, wringing the fabric out, then tossing it onto the floor. He wrapped his arms around her nude body, holding her close to him without uttering a word.
She looked up at him expectantly, “We shouldn't. He could hear.”
“I know, just let me hold you for a while.”
They sat silently in the water for several minutes, his fingers caressing her back while she twisted thin braids into his hair. Eskil opened his mouth his a yawn, his head still resting back on the tub.
He felt a timid and gentle kiss on his neck, the touch leaving a mark of fire on his skin. He smiled wickedly. “By the gods, I don't give a damn if he hears us.”