His grip tightened, sending heat spiraling up my arm. “Always.” Swirling fragments of heat from the air around us, he formed a mass and encased me in it.
We started walking again, Farris trotting ahead to pause and look back, making sure we followed.
The garden's beauty couldn't distract me from the questions burning in my mind. If I was right about the dragons, we didn’t know everything we needed to about the curse.
We’ve seen a lot of dragons lately,I said. Someone I know well and adore very much recently told me that dragons weren’t playing any role in our lives.
I should listen to my wife at all times.Humor rang in his voice.She's brilliant, deadly, and unfortunately always right.
Unfortunately?I arched an eyebrow.
Devastatingly. It's one of the many reasons I'm completely enthralled by you.
You should be.
His lips quirked up on one side.Duly noted, wife.
Farris’s head swung one way, then the other, before returning to point forward. His nose twitched and his tail spiked out.
Flowerbeds flanked our path, each blossom a masterwork of frost and magic. Violet petals etched with silver, starbursts ringed in translucent spines, vines that shifted from rose gold to dusky violet with our movement.
What did you promise?I asked.
Remember that tiny blade, the one the Halendor librarian gave you?
Got it.I patted my pocket where it and the other two talismans rested. I didn’t dare leave them behind.
The first image in the cave showed dragons encircling a fae king, with the dragons warding off monstrous shapes. The second showed the same fae king and a dragon bowing in submission. The third showed the king?—
An Evergorne king.
I’ll concede you could be right in this as well.
My snort rang out.He held the blade against his arm. Blood was spilling from the wound and the dragon was bowing. Remember, the village elder said the borgons want their history back. Their purpose.
Borgons aren’t dragons.
I came to a halt on the path and looked up at him. “But what if they are? Everyone’s warped by the curse. I bet the dragons were too.”
“You think they’re now borgons.”
“Yup. A borgon bowed to you in the marketplace after one of the others nearly killed you. In the library, I read that dragons had once been a vital part of Evergorne's defense.”
He hummed, clearly considering my words, and we continued walking.
The scent here wasn’t what I expected. No earthy loam or decay. Instead, the air held the sharpness of winter mixed with something faintly floral, like frozen lilacs threaded through with the metallic tang of ancient magic. It stung my nose but made my pulse quicken at the same time.
“Your crest is dragons, not ravens,” I said. “I’ve said it before, but I feel like they’re waiting to breathe again.”
A tic bloomed on his temple. “You think it all ties together.”
“I know it does.” I pressed the hilt of my dagger to my chest. “In here. I think our protective dragon feels the same.”
“Hmm.”
“Exactly what did you promise?”
“That I would do whatever she asked.”
