And then, once the sun sets…
Finn, hang on. I’m coming.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As dusk fell, Cedric exhaled slowly, fastening the last button on his shirt with fingers that still trembled from the transformation. The city lay ahead, the last barrier between him and Finn. So close.
His sleep had been restless, his dreams fractured and cruel. He had woken in a cold sweat more than once, heart hammering with nightmares of what they might find in the dungeons.
Twice Cedric had almost given in to his deepest, most selfish instinct. The urge to grab Gwenna and fly them both far away. Just run. Hide where no one would ever find them. Let the kingdom and its problems rot.
But he couldn’t. Because Finn was still here, in Mirathen. Not by his side, not anymore—but even after everything, after the lies, the betrayal, the truth laid bare between them, Finn hadn’t turned Cedric in. He could have. Maybe he should have. But he hadn’t. And now he was suffering for it. That knowledge gutted Cedric. He had lost so much already, but the thought of losing Finn—of finding him broken, bloodied, or worse, dead—made his breath turn to ash in his lungs.
The rustle of leaves pulled Cedric from his thoughts. Gwenna pushed through the underbrush, adjusting the strap of her pack. Her dark clothing blended into the deep blue of twilight, and the glint of steel at her hip told him she was just as prepared for this as he was.
“Ready?” she asked.
Cedric nodded, though the lump in his throat made it impossible to speak. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, everything—his fears, his guilt, his overwhelming desperation—would come spilling out. Instead, he forced himself forward, forging a path through the hidden glade and toward the city gates.
The south gate loomed ahead, torches flickering against the stone walls. Cedric and Gwenna merged into the flow of merchants returning from a neighboring town, their carts rattling, their voices an indistinct murmur. Cedric ducked his head, keenly aware of every glance from the guards standing watch. His pulse pounded in his ears.
The guards paid them no mind. They were more interested in ushering the merchants along than scrutinizing two weary travelers.
Only once they were past the gate and swallowed by the city’s narrow streets did Cedric allow himself a shallow breath of relief. They were inside, but they were not safe. Not yet.
As they made their way through the winding streets, Cedric was struck by how much had changed. Buildings he had known all his life had been torn down, replaced by cold stone facades he did not recognize. Open-air markets had been swallowed by new construction, the lively chaos of street vendors replaced with neatly ordered storefronts. It was the same city in name, but Cedric felt like he had stepped into a dream—one where everything was just slightly wrong.
Gwenna tugged at his sleeve. “This way.” She guided him down an alley. The cobblestones were damp beneath his boots, slick with something he preferred not to identify.
They emerged onto a broader street just as two women were locking up a shop for the night. Their voices carried easily in the quiet.
“…heard they’re still interrogating that knight,” one of them said, her tone hushed.
Cedric’s breath stilled.
“Poor soul,” the other muttered, shaking her head. “But what did he expect, defying the king like that? These are dangerous times.”
Cedric’s stomach turned violently. His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. What had Darius done to him? How much longer could he hold out? How much longer until he broke?
Cedric quickened his pace, Gwenna matching his stride.
They turned a corner and…
Guards.
A patrol was heading straight for them, their lantern painting long, wavering shadows across the stone walls. Cedric’s mind went blank for half a second, his body freezing like a deer about to be run down by hounds. Gwenna’s hand clamped onto his arm.
“Just act normal,” she hissed under her breath. “Pretend like we belong, and they’re less likely to stop us.”
Cedric nearly laughed. Act normal? He was a dragon for half the day. He hadn’t been normal in ten years. Cedric wouldn’t know normal if it stepped out of the shadows and introduced itself. But he forced himself to move, his body rigid with effort. One step. Another. Just keep walking. No dragon princes or feral princesses here. Just totally normal citizens.
“…increased patrols,” one guard was saying. “King’s orders. He’s paranoid about?—”
The rest was lost to distance, but Cedric didn’t need to hear more. He could only guess why Darius was paranoid. But he was pretty sure it involved him and Gwenna.
He released a gusty breath, only daring to meet Gwenna’s gaze once the guards passed. She looked just as grim as he felt.
They walked in silence, moving deeper into the city. Every street corner held ghosts of memories. There—the bakery where he and Darius had snuck sweets as children, breathless with laughter, hands sticky with honey. There—the fountain where he had stolen his first kiss, only to realize with a sinking sense of disappointment that the experience had done nothing for him. That no kiss from a girl ever would.
