He forced a calming breath. Fine. She wanted defiant? He could work with defiant.
“I’m coming in, Your Highness,” he announced, picking his way across the courtyard toward the door. Finn heroically avoided tripping over a good-sized rock shrouded by the weeds.
His free hand hovered near Sunwrath’s hilt while the other reached for the door handle. Because if she wasn’t alone, he’d rather not go inside unarmed.
Finn barely had time to test the tower’s door before a resounding roar ripped through the clearing. The sound vibrated through him, rattling his bones, snapping him into high alert. His body reacted from sheer instinct and training. Sunwrath flashed free of its sheath, Finn’s stance low and braced for defense or attack.
A massive, golden reptilian shape emerged from behind the tower. The dragon’s scales caught the sunlight, dazzling in arcs of molten brilliance. Finn’s stomach plummeted, fear and adrenaline boiling together in a white-hot surge.
The same dragon that killed my father. The one that ruined my life.
Jaws parted in a low, rolling growl of challenge as the dragon prowled closer. Its wings half-unfurled, casting an intimidating silhouette. Finn couldn’t help but note the dark intelligence in its gold-flecked eyes. This was no mindless creature—there was a keen awareness there.
His pulse thundered in his ears, but he held his ground, Sunwrath raised. His grip tightened, feet shifting back as the dragon prowled closer.
Another step forward for the dragon, another back for Finn. No, he couldn’t retreat. Not when the beast that caused so much heartbreak stood before him. Jaw clenched, Finn hefted the longblade, assessing the dragon. Go for the soft point of the throat or wing joint. That was his best chance.
A sudden cry shattered Finn’s concentration. “No! Stop!”
Princess Gwenna burst from the tower, chestnut hair tumbling over her shoulders, violet eyes burning with something fierce. Not fear. Not desperation. Anger.
And why in all the hells was she running toward the dragon?
His breath caught—because she wasn’t just standing near the dragon. No, she was in front of it. Shielding it. Finn staggered, mind scrambling to make sense of what he was seeing.
The dragon made a low rumble—not quite a threat, not quite amusement.
Finn remained in his defensive stance. “Princess Gwenna,” he tried again, steady, but urgent, “that dragon is dangerous.”
Gwenna didn’t move. “And you’re not?” she challenged.
He took a cautious step closer. “It killed your family.”
Gwenna’s expression darkened. Before Finn could read more of her expression, the ground trembled beneath his boots.
The dragon had shifted—not to attack, but to place itself between them. A deep growl rolled from its chest like distant thunder. But something about the beast’s posture seemed…hesitant. Its talons flexed in the earth, but its jaws remained closed, the lethal fangs hidden.
Finn’s anger surged. Hesitant or not, this monster is the reason my father died. He didn’t hesitate.
Years of training and vengeance burned through him, fueling the lunge. Sunwrath flashed in a tight arc, angled for the vulnerable spot between head and neck—where armor thinned, where a clean strike could end it.
The dragon recoiled, wings mantling in a sweeping dodge. Finn braced for a counterattack—a gout of flame, a clawed strike, something.
It didn’t come. The dragon retreated, but still blocked Gwenna. The princess stood behind the beast, arms crossed.
Finn took a step backward, sucking in a breath to help his mind focus as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. A stolen princess who didn’t want rescue. A dragon that didn’t attack on sight.
It didn’t matter, though. He’d made a vow.
“You must see reason!” he shouted, his voice raw. Finn tried another lunge, but the dragon sidestepped again. It let out a warning snarl, but still no attack. “I’m not your enemy, Princess Gwenna! I came to save you?—”
“Save me from what?” she yelled back, eyes flashing. “My own independence? Leave, you fool!”
His thoughts snagged on that. Independence?
Damn it all.
If Gwenna wouldn’t come willingly, then—fine. He’d force her hand. Get her away from the dragon first, argue later.
