“You have fought valiantly today. I am proud to beyourbetrothed.” He squeezed Gerard’s hands.
Gerard blinked. Elias’s proclamation clearly had been meant for the crowd. But was it also meant for him? Because it felt like Elias was trying to prove to both the onlookersandto himthat he wanted to be Gerard’s husband.
But he couldn’t want that! Could he?
“But now I must ask you for a favour, as your future husband.” Elias took a long pause, as if knowing everyone was listening and wanted to hear what he would say next. “Win the Tournament of Dragons. Do it for me.”
Elias smiled up at Gerard. No shame or sneer shadowed his expression. No disgust at being associated with him in public appeared on his face. Then Elias leaned up on his toes. He brushed his lips against Gerard’s. Right in front of everyone.
Thunderous applause erupted from the crowds. He heard shouts of “Dragon Warrior” as he’d heard earlier in the day when he’d won. But then a new chant began, mixed with his own title, “Lightning Prince. Dragon Warrior. Lightning Prince.”
Elias whispered in his ear, “Make him bleed. Make him hurt. Beat that fucker into the earth.” Then he pulled back and smiled, a sweet smile that contrasted with the bloodthirsty request. “Win for me.” His violet eyes twinkled.
Gerard nodded, still unable to collect himself enough to speak.
Elias’s smile widened. He turned and walked back, hipsswinging. Albert, who’d been standing motionless, glowered, gaze darting between the two of them. Then he stomped forward.
Elias veered towards him. Gerard frowned. He passed right next to Albert, and as Elias did so, he flicked his long white hair, hitting Albert right in the face. Otherwise, Elias didn’t acknowledge him at all.
Albert’s face twisted in fury. “Hey!” he shouted after Elias.
But Elias just kept walking.
A surprised laugh burst from Gerard’s throat.
That had been so petty. And Gerard loved it.
Perhaps there really is more to Elias than I thought.
Because that had been Elias defending Gerard. That had been him getting back at Albert for what he had said. Gerard had planned to defend himself in battle. But he appreciated and admired Elias’s method, perhaps even more than his own.
Elias stopped beside Senta and turned to face Gerard. Senta beamed down at Elias.
Chuckling, Gerard moved to the centre of the field, ready to fight and win. For Elias. And for himself. He wanted to teach Albert to shut his fucking mouth.
“Ready?” the herald yelled when Gerard and Albert faced each other.
“I am,” Gerard said.
Albert scowled but nodded.
“When I blow my trumpet, shift and fight.” She lifted the trumpet. She blew.
Gerard shifted and launched himself into the air.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Gerard flapped his wings, angling towards his enemy.
In dragon form, he knew his scars still clearly showed. But for some reason, he did not mind knowing that so many people gazed upon him, his scars and his unseeing white eye.
After all, he was a dragon. A deadly, fire-breathing dragon. No one could look down on him. No one could pity him. They could only marvel and cower at his ferocity. He roared, and the air trembled.
Gerard and Albert flew, circling the field, eyeing each other.
Gerard knew Albert liked to play dirty. He was a clever and decent fighter. But he liked to win more than anything. If he needed to, he’d use little tricks to do so, like forcing the other out of bounds, like he’d done with Senta.
