It had tried. Brandishing pointless metal, cowering behind a flimsy barrier. But the dragon was faster. Stronger. He had already proven this.
A slow, rolling growl gathered in his chest. His prey shifted, weight adjusting, feet bracing in the sand.
Useless. It would fall. They always fell.
He lunged.
Metal shrieked. The shield locked in place, but the force of the impact sent a jolt through the beast, a visceral pleasure. Grit churned beneath his claws, a cloud of dust rising. The vibrations of the blow rolled through his spine, rattled the very air.
Good.
The fight, the chase, the slow, delicious destruction of hope.
The shield lifted once more. The dragon struck. Again. Again.
A sharp cry broke from the prey’s lips. The sound of an animal pushed past its limits. The scent of blood bloomed like crushed fruit in the air, rich and tantalizing.
A snarl of triumph ripped from the dragon’s throat. His pupils flared wide, drinking in the sight of his prey sagging, barely able to hold itself upright. The human’s arm trembled, body teetering.
Almost.
The beast coiled to strike, muscles flexing, preparing for another strike.
Then…hesitation. Not his own. What?
The dragon growled, a deep, rumbling note that vibrated in his chest.
The prey faltered. It made a strange sound, hoarse and shaking, a wounded animal’s cry. His head cocked. He had seen this moment before.
Submission. But prey must never submit too soon. The fight had not been won. Had not been fully enjoyed.
The dragon’s lips peeled back, fangs gleaming like ivory scythes. He reared up on his hind legs, scales rasping against each other as he loosed a bone-shaking roar that rattled the walls.
Let the prey scramble. Let it try.
It was only prolonging the inevitable.
It was reckless. It was stupid. But for a moment, Finn swore he saw it. A flicker in Cedric’s golden eyes, the tiniest hesitation.
Finn latched onto it with both hands. “Remember the night atop the tower?” His breath burned in his throat as he dodged, narrowly escaping Cedric’s claws. The strike whistled past his head, so close he felt the wind of it.
“You showed me the telescope—you and Gwenna worked on it for months.” His breath came in ragged gasps, legs burning as he twisted away from a tail strike. Sand exploded beneath him. “I never got the chance to tell you, but it was one of the most remarkable things I’ve ever seen.”
Cedric didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.
Finn’s boots skidded in the dirt as he somehow avoided another swipe. Cedric loomed above him, all furious muscle and lethal instinct. Finn swallowed hard and lifted his chin. “Outside of you, that is.”
Because if he was going to die here, he was damn well going to make it memorable.
A heartbeat of stillness.
Cedric’s head twitched. A shift in weight, nostrils flaring as if he’d caught some unfamiliar scent. Finn’s breath hitched. Was that real? Or just the calculation of a predator?
The dragon didn’t move.
Finn’s pulse hammered, his lungs ached, but he didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare break whatever this was.
“I saw a shooting star that night,” Finn rasped, forcing the words past the tightness in his throat. “And I made a wish.” He held Sunwrath like a lifeline. Not to strike. Never to strike. Only to hold on.
