The beast growled, tail lashing like an agitated cat, but still held back. Finn’s mind raced. No claws. No fire. No real fight. It’s holding back. Why?
Did it matter? Not really. Not when this was the dragon he’d dreamed of killing for so long. Its hesitation gave him an opening.
He feinted left, sword slicing through the air. The dragon dodged, wings flaring as if shielding Gwenna.
That was exactly what Finn wanted.
He lunged, driving the beast back a few paces. Gwenna edged aside to avoid the dragon’s retreating claws, ducking beneath an outstretched wing.
There’s my opening. He slammed Sunwrath into its sheath mid-motion, sprinting for the princess.
Grab her and run. That’s the only way. Deal with the dragon later.
He was almost there when the dragon’s tail came out of nowhere. It caught Finn’s legs, and he lost his footing entirely.
The world tilted—sky, trees, dirt, all blurring together. He tumbled end over end, slamming through the underbrush with bone-jarring force, though his enchanted armor absorbed the worst of it. Pain blazed in his side as he rolled to a stop, body screaming in protest. For a moment, white spots swarmed across his vision, and he tasted blood at the corner of his mouth.
Finn struggled into a sitting position. He forced a ragged breath, gulping air into his throbbing lungs. Beyond the tangle of branches, he glimpsed the dragon, still standing guard in front of Princess Gwenna. It hadn’t chased him. It hadn’t tried to finish him off. Instead, it regarded him with narrowed, golden eyes, as though daring him to try again.
Finn clenched his teeth, humiliation burning hotter than the pain lacing his ribs. The princess was watching, her expression difficult to read. Not fear or the desperation of someone longing for rescue, of that he was certain. If anything, she looked furious with him for intruding.
He pushed to his knees, swallowing a groan as pain licked up his side. Damn it. The thought came unbidden, thick with guilt and grief. I failed.
His fingers twitched for his sword—only to spot it several feet away, half-buried in the dirt. The distance might as well have been a mile.
Swallowing the coppery taste in his mouth, Finn staggered upright. His balance wavered, but he steadied himself with a sharp inhale. It took far too much effort to reclaim his sword. He wasn’t fighting this battle again today. The dragon’s unwavering glare promised that a second charge would end far worse. Finn’s soldier instincts cut through the haze of anger: Withdraw. Regroup. Live to fight another day.
With a muffled curse, he stumbled toward the treeline, one hand clasped tight over his ribs. Leaves and brambles snagged at his legs, as if the entire damned forest wanted him gone. He pushed forward anyway.
He shot one last look over his shoulder. The princess had stepped beside the dragon again, her posture less defensive, more…resigned. Finn’s stomach twisted as he caught the relief on her face. Relief that he was leaving.
His jaw locked. That thing killed her parents. Burned their palace. Took everything. And she’s standing beside it like a trusted ally?
Finn’s hands curled into fists, frustration and confusion churning hot in his mind. Fine. He was in no shape to keep fighting today. But he’d be back.
He had to find Ghost, tend to his wounds, and—most importantly—figure out how to break the dragon’s hold over the princess. Because whatever had happened to her in these ten long years, whatever the beast had done to twist her mind…
Finn refused to leave her here.
Chapter Five
Cedric exhaled a weary groan as the final traces of gold shimmered off his skin, the dragon’s scales receding into soft, human flesh. The transformation left his muscles throbbing in protest, as though they hadn’t quite forgiven him for forcing them into such a monumental shift. Even after all these years, the process felt painfully surreal, as if his bones never fully welcomed their old shape.
He rested a hand against the stable wall, catching his breath. Cedric donned the set of clothing he’d laid out in the early morning hours before his forced shift.
The sun’s last rays had dipped below the horizon moments ago, plunging the clearing into indigo twilight. The outpost courtyard stood silent, the faint rustle of night birds in the distant trees the only sound. A relief after the day’s near disaster.
“Ced?” Gwenna’s voice drifted through the open doorway. She stepped out into the courtyard with a lantern in hand, its glow haloing her chestnut hair. Concern etched lines across her face. “How are you feeling?”
He managed a tight smile, straightening. “Like someone punched me in every bone simultaneously,” he replied, voice tinged with weary humor. “So…the usual.”
Gwenna sighed. “I’ve got some liniment you can use, if you need. But did you see that knight’s livery?”
Her swift change of subject caught him off balance for a moment, but Cedric refocused quickly. It hadn’t been something they could discuss after they had chased the knight off. “Lunareth.”
She nodded. “Come on. Dinner’s ready and we need to talk.”
Together, they made their way into the old kitchen. Cedric had patched the roof when they’d first come here. Lanterns hung from the beams overhead, bathing the area in warm light.
