Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Dark Fire (Fireblood Dragon #10) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Ruby Dixon |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B0917W6FYV |
| Book Information: | |
Azar has taken over Fort Dallas. He rules with complete authority, and everyone bows down to him. Everyone except one woman. Melina, the fort's medic. No matter what he offers, she refuses to give in. A good man would know to stop asking. Unfortunately for Melina, Azar is not a good man. | |
| Books in Series: | Fireblood Dragon Series by Ruby Dixon |
| Books by Author: | Ruby Dixon |
Part One
Chapter
One
(If your book starts here, and you need content warnings, please scroll back!—Ruby)
MELINA
"I think you're free to go," I say cheerfully to my last remaining patient in my clinic. There's no relief quite like when a sick patient can walk out on his own two feet. I smile at the stranger, pleased that he's recovered some weight and he's feeling better. It makes me feel like I've done my job. Like I'm making a change in the After. It's a good feeling.
Even if it's the prickly, odd man they call Azar.
I pick up my knitting and the ugly, ugly yarn, just so I have something to keep my hands busy as Azar puts on his many clothes. Even though it's the dead of summer and everything is stagnant and hot, he insists on wearing layer after layer of clothing. His skin is the whitest I've ever seen, and his hair, too. If it weren't for the strange gold of his eyes, I'd think he has a recessive gene or two in there that's mutated. As it is, I’m not entirely sure that he’s human, but I’m not going to ask questions. My job is to fix him up and send him on his way.
He puts on a long coat over his long-sleeved shirt and equally long pants, and then braids his long hair and loops it under his baseball cap. "Will these clothes suffice?" he asks, turning toward me. "Would a normal human wear them?"
That's a weird way to put it. Puzzled, I finish the stitch I'm on and set my needles down. "What do you mean?"
"Are they too burned to make me seem…normal?" Azar's voice is polite as he stands in front of me, layered despite the fact that it's over a hundred degrees today. I don't get it, but I know from tending to him over the last few weeks that he runs hot, like he's constantly got a fever that I can't cure. I threw away three precious thermometers before I realized the problem wasn't them, but him. I'm still worried he's got some sort of cancer making his system go haywire, but if that's the case, I can't do anything for him anyhow.
So I study his clothing. "They still have some burned edges, but I think they're usable. Everyone uses clothing until it rots off your back at this point," I say. "They're not exactly a commodity that can be easily replaced. So yeah, keep wearing them."
He gazes down at me. "Is that why you are dressed the way you are? Because you lack proper clothing?"
After weeks of dealing with Azar and his strange, pointed questions, I don't get offended. I'm not sure if it was his injuries or if it's the After that makes him a little peculiar, but we're all a little weird at this point. So I just chuckle and deflect. "Much as I would love to swan about in fancy dresses and loads of jewelry, I'm just glad to have clean clothes." I pat the militia uniform I'm wearing. It's ugly and bulky and fits wrong across my backside, but it's clothing. Most of my meager funds go towards bartering for more medical supplies. "That's why I'm knitting in my spare time."
Those odd golden eyes flick to the needles and yarn in my hand. "You are making fancy dresses?"
In a way, he reminds me a bit of Commander Data from that old space show, creepy white skin and all. "No," I say carefully. "I'm making scarves for the winter and extra diapers for the moms that come in." I can trade my knitted items for clothes when I need to.
"But you would wear fancy dresses as your preference if you could?"
I shrug. "Who wouldn't? I'm weak for pretty clothes, just like any woman."
Azar nods thoughtfully, as if filing this information away. He stares at me for so long that my skin prickles uncomfortably. I ignore it. As a woman alone in the After, you learn to try to ignore a lot of what men do. It's like an apocalypse has given them leave to be shitty assholes constantly. Azar can be short and nasty with others, but he's usually polite to me. I sincerely hope that doesn't change.
He still keeps staring, though. I look up from my knitting again. "What?"
"You're the healer here, are you not?" He pulls up a seat across from me, wincing only slightly as he sits down. I know his skin is tight in certain spots and tender where he was burned. I also know it healed faster than any human should have possibly healed from those kinds of wounds, but…dragons in the sky. Dragons in the sky negate all logical arguments. He gestures at my empty clinic. "Why are your people not protecting such a valued commodity?"