Finn’s eyelids fluttered open just for a moment. His gaze met Cedric’s. And—gods help him—there was so much apology in those eyes.
Cedric didn’t want to see it.
Couldn’t bear to.
A thick, heavy weight clamped around his limbs. Chains.
A ragged sound tore from his throat. Not quite a growl, not quite a whimper. The iron was laced with magic, pulsing in a way that made his scales itch and his bones feel brittle. His wings twitched—useless, trembling, pinned awkwardly against his sides. He could not rise. Could not fight. Could barely breathe without agony spearing through his chest.
Through the haze of pain, his gaze landed on Gwenna. She twisted and thrashed in the grip of a pair of guards who were attempting to placate her with foolish lines that were more likely to get them bashed in the head with a rock.
“It’s for your own good, Princess,” one of the guards grunted, tightening his grip.
“There’s no need to be hysterical!” the other shouted, frustrated.
The bastard never saw her knee coming. The impact sent him staggering back, gasping. For a moment, Cedric wasn’t the only one in agony.
“Let him go!” Gwenna shrieked, sounding like a feral creature. A wildcat in human form. Cedric’s face dug into the dirt as he watched her with one eye.
No one listened to her.
Footsteps.
The rhythm of a man who had already won. Darius stepped into view, surveying the wreckage before him with the casual amusement of an artist admiring his masterpiece.
His gaze swept across Finn, Gwenna, the trail of blood. Then he turned to Cedric, a smile on his lips.
“Look at you,” he crooned, voice dripping with mockery. “Thought you could come here and reclaim what isn’t yours.” His lip curled, his gaze flicking to Finn. “Gathering knights who vow themselves to you like a pretender.”
Cedric snorted. Dust and blood misted from his nostrils, but it didn’t even have the decency to reach Darius’s boots.
Disappointing.
He wanted to lunge, to fight, to rip the smirk from Darius’s face.
Because Darius had hurt Finn.
Had hurt Gwenna.
Had torn apart their home, their lives.
Had stolen, broken, crushed.
Not just his family. Not just his friends.
His kingdom. His people.
Darius wasn’t just a monster. He was rot. Decay. The slow death of everything Cedric had ever loved.
And yet, Cedric was the one in chains.
Darius edged closer, resting a hand on Cedric’s neck. He wished he could writhe away from the touch, but that was beyond his throbbing body at the moment.
“All that power,” Darius mused, running his fingers along Cedric’s golden armor. “All that radiance.” The ring on his finger gleamed, the ruby glinting in the dim light as he twisted it idly. “And yet, here you are. Chained. Defeated.” He tilted his head and sighed. “The Gilded Nothing.”
Cedric bared his fangs, but the effort made his vision swim. A tremor shot through him. He couldn’t allow this. Gathering all the strength he could, powering past the pain, Cedric surged to his feet.
One blow. One snap of his fangs. That would be all it would take. He lunged.
