“Kat—”
“Go!” she screams, whirling back towards the mansion.
I stand frozen, heartbeat pounding in my throat. As dawn breaks, I turn and stumble out of the courtyard, grief clawing at my chest.
Drakowaits in the tree line outside the city. I press my forehead to his cool scales.
“Selene,” he murmurs. “We must go, before we’re seen.”
I nod, my words lost to the wind. As his wings unfurl, I climb onto his back. With one powerful beat, we’re airborne, leavingbehind my sister, my home, and everything I believed I could save.
That night, I creep across the moonlit courtyard toward the training ring. The moon hangs low, casting an ominous glow over the sand-strewn floor. My sword—a gift fromKeiren—weighs my hands down like grief incarnate, its steel edge flickering in the pale light.Just three more days until the final Trial.
I step up to the practice dummy and strike, again and again. Each blow rings out with thethudof metal on wood. My breath goes ragged as salt stings my tongue and sweat blurs my vision. Memories coil inside me—my mother’s final gasp, Cassy’s terrified cry, Kat’s broken vows—each one fueling my fury until it burns hotter than a dragon’s breath.
From the torchlit wall, a shadow peels away.Keirenenters the ring, his cloak a midnight wave, blade gleaming like both promise and peril. His dark eyes, fierce and concerned, lock onto mine.
“In the mood to fight, Fire?”
“With you? Always.” My heart blazes.
He inclines his head and raises his blade. I lunge.
Steel sings in a whirlwind of sparks. Parry, riposte, dodge—our swords dance beneath the red moon. His strength presses against mine like the tide against the shore, and for a moment, I forget everything but the rhythm of our clash.
“It’s not your fault,” Keiren says as he smoothly sidesteps a blow.
“Stop saying that!” I cry, swinging at him as hard as I can.
“I will—when you believe it.”
He counters with enough force that my sword nearly flies from my hand. I snarl and overreach, sweeping my leg out in a desperate lunge. Keiren pivots, twists the blade from my wrist, and presses the flat of his blade against my throat.
Our breaths mingle in the cold night air. His arm anchors me. Grief and longing twist through his dark gaze.
“What now, Your Highness?” I dare him. “Will you slay me… or kiss me?”
The moonlight glints across his features, lined with anger, desire, and something achingly human. Slowly, he lowers the blade.
I seize the moment. Sweeping his legs out from under him, I send us both crashing to the sandy ground. We roll until he pins me beneath him, but the victory is mine: My dagger, pulled from my boot, hovers at his throat.
Our chests heave. Our eyes lock. His weight presses into me, solid and warm.
“What now, Fire?” he murmurs, echoing my challenge. “Will you kill me… or kiss me?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “From this angle,” I breathe, arching closer, “killing youdoesseem tempting.”
A corner of his mouth curves. “If your face were the last thing I saw, your lips the last I tasted, I’d die a happy man.”
Before I can retort, he closes the distance, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that burns and breaks in equal measure. The dagger slips from my fingers. I melt into him, hands tangling in his hair, body curving against his.
He breaks the kiss first, only to trail more along my jaw and down my throat. I gasp his name.
“Fire,” he murmurs back, his voice raw with desire.
“Keiren…,” I whisper, “my name… myrealname… is Selene.”
He freezes, eyes wide with something between awe and reverence.
