Cedric.
More than just a name. A truth. His truth. But the beast did not understand truths. Only hunger. For a moment, the dragon faltered. Huffed a confused, uneasy breath.
“Cedric!” Another voice, this one sharp and commanding. The beast snapped his head around to peer at the crowd, focusing on a single creature.
The female.
The dragon’s pupils narrowed. Females were prey. But…no. He knew her. Not prey. Not nameless.
Gwenna. The knowledge sent a bolt of lightning through him, shredding the veil of magic that bound him.
The dragon spun back to his prey. No, the knight. His knight. Finn. Mine.
His gaze locked onto the human standing before him, sword lowered, breath ragged, staring up at him not with terror, but something worse.
Trust.
The dragon did not understand. Shaking his head, he huffed out another too-hot breath. The dragon was driven by instinct, but he was not mindless. And he would figure this out.
No, I am not a dragon. I’m…a man. A prince. A brother. A lover. I am Cedric.
The knowledge struck with the force of a thunderclap. I am Cedric. I know this man. I love this man.
The dragon staggered back a step, claws flexing in the sand. The magic twisted inside him, resisting, snarling. But for the first time, he was fighting it. Truly fighting it.
“Please come back to me,” the knight whispered. Finn—gods, Finn—he wasn’t running. Even when he should be.
Stupid Finn. Stupid, wonderful Finn.
To hold on to hope in the face of certain death. To look upon a beast and believe there was still something worth saving.
It wasn’t bravery. It wasn’t even love.
It was madness.
The dragon’s tail lashed out. Not by will. Not by choice. Cedric screamed within himself, a soundless explosion of grief.
Finn’s body tumbled across the sand, limbs flailing, his sword spinning away in a glittering arc.
No, no, no! The word was a battering ram in Cedric’s skull, but it meant nothing. It changed nothing. The dragon advanced, a predator closing in on its quarry, its jaws parting to reveal the deadly promise of its maw.
Fire pooled in his throat. One breath, and his prey would be nothing but smoldering ruin.
No, not prey. Finn. Gods, Finn!
He saw it—the outcome, the destruction—his fire licking over pale skin, blackening it, burning away everything he loved.
Cedric hurled himself at the unyielding walls of his own mind, slamming against them like a caged animal. He fought with the ferocity of a dying thing, tearing at the threads of Darius’s enchantment, trying to claw his way back.
But it wasn’t enough. The beast did not falter. The beast did not weep. But deep inside, Cedric did.
Please. The word was nothing more than a breathless prayer, a desperate plea hurled into the void. Aurenis, gods, anyone—don’t let me be the end of him.
Time slowed.
Every heartbeat, every breath stretched thin. Finn lay there, motionless, staring up at the creature poised to end his life.
The roar of the crowd faded, reduced to a meaningless hum. Only one thing mattered.
