His feet are massive, tipped with black claws that scrape against the stone. His hands, clawed, deadly, rest at his sides as he stands beside my bed.
Is this the monster that's been holding me captive?
The question barely forms before I'm overcome with emotion so intense it steals my breath. My heart pounds erratically. My chest tightens. Because Iknowhim. I know the feel of those claws on my skin. I know the rumble of his voice in my ear. I know the stretch of him inside me, the way he fills every empty space until there's nothing left but him.
This is my lover. My mate. The one fate herself chose for me while I was trapped. I thought maybe, maybe, I loved him. Actually loved him. The bond whispered it to me in the quiet moments, wrapped around my heart, and squeezed until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.
But seeing him now, awake and aware and faced with the reality of what he is...
He's my captor.
The one who stole a century from me. The one who kept me locked away like a doll in a tower while the world moved on without me.
I willalwayshate him. I willneverlove him. Not for what he stole. Not for what he took.
Even as warmth blooms in my chest at the sight of him. Even as my body hums with recognition, a tingling sensation spreading from my core outward, making my fingers twitch and my toes curl.
No. No, I won't—
"It's time to choose, my love."
His voice. That deep, rumbling voice that's haunted and soothed me for a hundred years. The same voice that whispered filthy things in my ear while he fucked me senseless.
My mind can't even wrap around the concept of time. I'm 119 years old. How is that possible? How am I stillhere?
Now that I'm awake, I'm forced to decide. Will I stay with him? Leave? Kill him? Kill myself? The options swirl in my head, each one more impossible than the last.
I try to sit up, but the world tilts violently. My vision goes dark at the edges, and I fall back against the pillows with a gasp.
"Careful. You've been asleep a long time. I—"
His hands reach for me, and I shove them away. Weakly. Pathetically. But he allows it, pulling back immediately, his expression crumpling.
"Do... not... touch... me... monster..." My voice is scratchy, raw, like I've been screaming for days. Maybe I have been. Maybe that's what a century of silence sounds like when it finally breaks. My throat burns. There's a ringing in my ears that won't stop. "I need..."
I don't know what I need. Water? Air? An explanation for why my body feels like it's been hollowed out and filled with something else entirely?
"Here, my love."
He hands me a glass of water, and I snatch it from him, glaring as I drink. It's the best thing I've ever tasted. Cold and clean andreal. Magic kept me alive this last century. I didn't need food or water or anything but the spell holding me in stasis.
But now? Now I'm ravenous.
I drain the glass and shove it back at him.
"Adelaide... I... I'm so sorry. I love you."
Tears stream down his face, shimmering as they trace the iridescent scales on his cheeks. I've never heard him sound so sad. So desperate. So utterly broken.
"Please... please choose—"
Blood.
Blood is spraying across my face suddenly, hot and wet and metallic. I blink, confused, my foggy mind struggling to process what I'm seeing.
One moment, my dragon is leaning toward me, professing his love. The next, he's clutching his throat as blood sprays from a wound I didn't see coming. An arrow. Lodged in his throat, the shaft still quivering.
His black eyes widen. He looks toward the door, and I follow his gaze.
