And now, in the absence of force… Iwantto go.
I want to know which version of the king I’ll meet. I want to know if he’ll touch me the same way he looked at me in the kitchen.
I want. And Ihatethat I want.
The last few days have passed like ghosts, each wandering the keep, cloaked in velvet dread. Soft, slow, tense beneath the surface. A courtship stretched over broken bones. We pretend it’s normal, this strange new rhythm. One girl per day. One night to make an impression. As if we’re part of a love story instead of a curse.
“Find the truth and unlock the past before the crimson glow has passed,” I whisper into the dark.
And then I see it lying across my bed.
A gown.
Crimson silk, cut to catch the firelight. Its bodice is boned and sculpted, trimmed in jet-black beading that glints like stars. The sleeves are sheer and whisper-soft. The silver-threaded embroidery that lines the hem is shaped like thorns and wings.
A dragon.
Beside it, a note written in an embellished hand:
Wear this tomorrow.
—K
It’s beautiful. Too beautiful. And that’s exactly why I won’t wear it.
Because he’s trying to understand me. He’s trying to see me. And if I let him—if I wear this—I think he just might succeed.
So instead… I fold it carefully and leave it right where I found it.
Let him wonder.
After Cassy falls asleep, the rest of us retire to our chambers. But I can’t sleep. Eventually, I slip out and wander the endless halls cloaked in darkness. I’m not afraid; I’ve faced death too many times already, and even if I win the Bloodmoon Trials, even if I break the curse, it seems unlikely the dragon will let me escape this place alive.
I long for a hall that leads to the gardens, but lately the keep seems to have shifted to keep us all trapped inside. Even a few moments of fresh air would be enough to ease my mind.
I walk quietly for a while longer, reminiscing about the ranch. The night here, deep in the keep, is too quiet, too empty of the braying of livestock, the drone of insects, the soft hooting of hunting owls. But when I turn back toward my room, a breeze kisses the exposed skin of my collarbone. I stop in my tracks, searching for the source of the draft.
To my right hangs a red-and-black tapestry depicting a dragon mid-flight, breathing fire—the royal crest. I step closer, my fingers brushing the threads along the dragon’s underbelly. It’s cold.Toocold.
And… moving.
I push my hand into the tapestry and find nothing solid behind it. Pulling it aside, I unveil a hidden archway leading to a corridor I’ve never seen before.
I should go back to my room. Sleep. Prepare for tomorrow.
But the darkness beckons.
I step through the passage and emerge onto a ledge carved high into the mountainside. Below, the valley stretches out before me. I sit at the edge, feet dangling, letting the wind tousle my hair. I’ve never feared heights. In my dreams, I always imagined jumping rather than falling—diving down and flying, arms stretched wide like wings.
Then comes the growl, rattling and ancient. I turn to see a great shadow soaring toward me.
The dragon.
I leap to my feet and bolt for the passage, but a blast of wind from his wings sends me sprawling. The beast lands with terrifying grace, blocking the archway, his massive form blotting out the stars.
I back away slowly, heart hammering, as he stalks forward like a predator toying with its prey. I’d be a fool to think that saving me from the lake monster means he won’t devour me now.
My nightdress catches on the heel of my boot, and I fall onto my backside—hard.
