Then Cedric gave a soft sigh. “Told you.”
Finn let out a soft chuckle, lifting his head to meet Cedric’s gaze. “Told me what?”
Cedric’s fingers traced idle patterns against Finn’s sweat-damp skin. “That you’re mine.”
Finn grinned. “Damn right, I am.”
The possessive ferocity in the knight’s voice made something inside Cedric squeeze in all the best ways. He tucked himself closer to Finn, to the comfort of his warmth. No more words. Just closeness. Just this.
Sleep had almost claimed him when Cedric heard Finn’s voice, soft as a prayer. “Goodnight, my prince.”
Finn stirred, wakefulness returning in fragments—the prickling straw beneath his side, the dull ache blooming along his ribs. Perhaps a night of passion while recovering from his injuries wasn’t advisable, but he had no regrets.
Sunlight slithered through the thin slats of the stable walls, gilding motes of dust that danced above him. He stretched, relishing the slow burn of spent pleasure, the ghost of Cedric’s smile still vivid in his mind.
But when he curled closer to the space where Cedric should have been…he wasn’t there.
Finn rubbed a hand over his face. “Cedric?” he called. Surely he hadn’t gone far.
A deep, ragged gasp came in answer. No, a whimper. Finn bolted upright, his breath hitching, hay needling his scalp as his head snapped toward the source.
Light caught on gold. A massive shape shuddered in the open area of the stable, muscles seizing, limbs trembling with the effort of supporting its own weight. Finn knew what he was looking at. But his mind refused to accept it.
Not possible. Not real. It couldn’t be.
A dragon—no, not just a dragon. THE dragon. The monster Finn had sworn to kill.
The creature scrambled unsteadily to its feet, its wingtips dragging against the stable floor. Finn’s body locked up, every muscle frozen, every nerve screaming at him to move, to fight, to run—but he couldn’t.
Because those eyes. Cedric’s eyes. Gold-flecked, raw with emotion. Haunted. Familiar.
Finn’s stomach twisted, nausea rising. This is Cedric.
No. This is a lie.
He staggered to his feet, almost tripping on the pile of discarded clothing. Finn’s clothing. Cedric’s clothing.
Finn had kissed Cedric. Had let himself fall for him. Had let himself believe… And the whole time, Cedric had been the very thing Finn had sworn to destroy.
Finn reeled, his breath shattering from his lungs. A betrayal so vast it stole the air from the room. “You lied to me.” The accusation ripped from his throat, splintering like bone.
The dragon—Cedric—made a keening, grieving noise that didn’t belong in the throat of a monster. A raw, searing ache tore through Finn. He had trusted Cedric. He had loved him, or at least—he had let himself begin to.
“I let myself be yours,” Finn choked out. The words dripped acid, searing his tongue. His throat burned. “I thought we?—”
He stopped himself, biting down on the words before he could say something even more damning, even more foolish.
Cedric took a step backward, tail tip bumping the stable wall. His head was low, wings bunched, the posture of a creature feeling shame and regret. Cedric refused to meet his gaze. He made a soft rumble, then spun, shoving the stable doors open with a foreclaw.
A part of Finn wanted to stop him. To demand answers. To make Cedric stay and face what he had done. But the hurt was too fresh, the wound too raw. Finn couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything except watch in helpless agony as Cedric scrambled away from him.
Finn stumbled after him, as if he might bodily stop the dragon, dressed as he was in absolutely nothing—because why stop making bad choices now? Golden scales rippled as Cedric pivoted, and the thunderclap of his wings almost knocked Finn off his feet.
Cedric soared into the sky, his golden form shrinking against the dawn. Finn stood there, his heart shattering to bits as he watched Cedric disappear into the light.
His father was dead because of that dragon. Because of Cedric.
The images flickered in his mind like cruel flashes of memory—Cedric laughing beside him at dinner. Cedric’s lips against his own in the dark. Cedric’s hands guiding his as they carved wood together.
