Maybe it would be easier to just stay here. Let the forest claim him. Maybe the earth would swallow him whole, and the pain would finally stop.
“Cedric?” The sound of his sister’s voice shattered the quiet. Footsteps—running. “Oh, thank Rynvath’s hunters! I’ve been worried sick!”
He belatedly registered Gwenna dropping to her knees beside him, her hands warm as they pressed against his bare skin, checking for injuries. The concern in her voice cut deeper than he wanted to admit.
Cedric forced his eyes open. Gwenna’s face hovered above him, her expression a mixture of relief and frustration. She wasted no time in draping a cloak over his shaking shoulders.
“Can you stand?” she asked, her voice softer now, no less urgent. “I brought clothes.”
Cedric swallowed, forcing himself to nod. The movement alone made his head spin. His limbs felt like waterlogged planks as Gwenna helped him into a sitting position. The simple act of pulling the linen shirt over his head was an ordeal.
But Gwenna’s hands were sure as she guided him, her frustration a silent undercurrent beneath her movements. She’s angry.
She was right to be.
The moment he was dressed, she straightened, crossing her arms over her chest. “Where is he?” she asked, voice tight with restrained emotion.
Cedric exhaled shakily, barely more than a whisper. “Gone.”
Gwenna stiffened. “Gone?”
“He left at dawn.” The words tasted bitter.
Gwenna’s jaw clenched, her eyes flashing. “I’ll kill him,” she muttered under her breath. “I told you we couldn’t trust him. I knew he’d?—”
“No.” Cedric cut her off, shaking his head. The motion made him sway, and he had to grip her arm to keep himself upright as they began the slow walk back to the tower. “It’s not his fault.” His voice was hoarse, raw with self-loathing. “I…I should have told him sooner.”
Gwenna let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Told him what? That you’re the very creature he was sent to destroy so he could carry me off? Oh yes, I’m sure that would have gone over splendidly.”
Cedric flinched, but he had no strength left to argue. What was there to say?
They moved in silence after that, the short walk to the tower feeling endless. Cedric’s body ached with every step, but it was nothing compared to the gaping wound in his heart.
Inside, Gwenna guided him to a chair by the fire. His limbs felt boneless, heavy with exhaustion. He watched as Gwenna busied herself making a tincture, the clinking of cups and saucers filling the tense silence.
Cedric stared into the fire, his vision unfocused, the flames blurring into shapes that weren’t there. Finn’s face flashed in his mind—his grey eyes wide with shock, his voice shaking with betrayal. The warmth of his body, the way he had held Cedric close only hours before, like he belonged there. A fresh wave of nausea rolled through him.
“Here.” Gwenna pressed a steaming cup into his hands. “Drink this. Then you’re going to tell me exactly what happened.”
Cedric wrapped his fingers around the drink, letting the heat seep into his frozen hands. He took a sip, but the warmth of the tincture didn’t reach the chill inside him. He swallowed hard, the words tangled in his throat.
“We were in the stables,” he began, his voice a ragged whisper. It felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else. “We…we were...” His jaw clenched, and he shut his eyes, as if that would block out the memory. “I let him into my heart and my arms.”
Gwenna’s eyebrows shot up, but, to her credit, she didn’t interrupt.
Cedric took another shuddering breath. “Afterward, I must have fallen asleep. When I woke, the sun was rising, and I—” He broke off, his grip tightening around the cup. He didn’t need to say the rest. The horror of that moment, of feeling his body shifting against his will, the sickening realization that he was too late and there was no way to slip away without Finn noticing. “Finn saw me.”
“And then he ran,” Gwenna finished, her tone flat with ill-concealed bitterness.
Cedric shook his head, the motion sluggish, his entire body resisting the movement. “No. I did.” The confession was hardly audible. He exhaled shakily, his fingers white-knuckled around the cup. “I saw the look on his face and I…I couldn’t bear it. I flew away.”
He didn’t even mention the things Finn had said. You lied to me. I trusted you. The words had lodged in his mind, poisoning him from the inside out.
Silence stretched between them. Gwenna’s gaze was heavy on him, unyielding. Finally, she spoke. “So you slept with him, revealed your secret, and then left him to deal with the aftermath alone?”
Put like that, it sounded even worse. Because it was worse. Cedric flinched as if struck.
“I panicked,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what else to do. And I can’t—” His voice faltered. He swallowed the knot rising in his throat, staring down into the depths of his tincture. “I can’t speak as a dragon. I had no way to make him understand.”
