by Sofia Stone
But then Henri grinned, and the expression arrested Gabriel for a moment.
"So I challenge her by dragonright. Where is the little girl playing princess? Does she accept my challenge?"
"No—!" Gabriel shouted, turning back, but it was too late.
"Yes!" Amelia's voice rang out across the courtyard. She looked frightened, but also determined. Gabriel thought he had never loved her more.
The crowd parted for her easily, tittering nervously. Gabriel rushed to her side.
"She doesn't know what that means," Gabriel said, seeking a loophole. "She didn't mean it." He tried to impress her into silence with a look.
Henri was grinning, now looking more like a satisfied cat than ever. "The challenge, once accepted, cannot be withdrawn." He sounded almost bored, like he was reciting something.
"But she didn't know!" Gabriel blazed. It wasn't fair.
"I'm sure there's all sorts of things she doesn't know about this country," Henri drawled. "She accepted. You know the laws of our people, or I assume you do. What kind of education does a bodyguard receive, anyway? It occurs to me I don't know."
"What is this challenge thing?" Amelia said to him under her breath. The crowd was hushed, totally silent.
"Then I'll take the challenge in her place," Gabriel said. "She's my mate. I have the right."
"If she agrees," Henri said, as if it made no difference to him either way.
"What is going on?" Amelia hissed.
"He challenged you by dragonright. It's an old tradition that—well, that doesn't matter now. You accepted, so it has to go forward. It's a duel—we'll set terms, fight in our dragon forms. And I'm taking your place."
Her fingers dug into his arm. "You can't do that!"
Gabriel leveled a look at her. "Can you transform, right now?"
Amelia's mouth dropped open as she remembered, and panic swam over her features. Finally, she jerked her head in an approximation of a nod.
"It's settled, then." Henri sounded bored again. "My terms are that, when I win, you will abdicate as heir and never set a single toe in Zavinia ever again, on pain of death. Your terms?"
"Same goes for you," Amelia snapped, anger overcoming fear for a moment. "When Gabriel wins."
Henri's teeth shone in a grin. "Then we are agreed. Shall we begin?"
"Give us a moment," Amelia said.
"A tender good-bye?" Henri asked idly. "That's no skin off my back, I suppose."
Amelia's anger disappeared when she turned to Gabriel. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she said in a low voice. She sounded desperate.
"I don't have a choice," said Gabriel gently.
Her lip trembled. "I'm sorry. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have to do this. If I could just transform, you wouldn't be in danger."
He shook his head. "I would have stepped in anyway. Amelia, there's nothing I care about more than you. You’re everything to me."
"Can you win?"
Internally he was more doubtful than he let on, but he nodded anyway. He had never seen Henri's dragon and had no idea of its size or power or speed. There were all kinds of legends, stereotypes—that the aristocratic bloodlines had bigger, more powerful dragons, that their stronger dragons were the reason they had gained power in the first place. He didn't know enough to know whether any of it was true or not. He just knew he had to try.
"Come back to me," Amelia said finally, fiercely, and pulled him down for a kiss.
The kiss could have gone on for seconds, or minutes, or hours, or days. Time became meaningless as their lips melded in a fiery, all-consuming kiss.
When they finally broke apart, there were tears in Amelia's eyes. One spilled over down her cheek, and Gabriel brushed it away with his thumb.
"I love you," he told her.
She swallowed. "I love you, too. Come back to me."
Chapter Nine: Amelia
"C ome back to me," she told him, as if wishing could make it so. Her heart was in her throat as she watched him leave. Her fingers rose to her lips, which were still tingling from his kiss. She wondered if that would be their last kiss.
No. Gabriel's going to win. I know it. She put every ounce of conviction into the thought, but her fingers were still trembling. She hid them in the folds of her skirt.
"Amelia. Come sit with me."
It was Lady Nancy's voice, cutting through the fog of fear. She sounded as imperious as ever. Part of Amelia was annoyed—couldn't she see what danger Gabriel was in? Couldn't she see how serious this was?—but another part was relieved to have someone else issuing orders. All she had to do was obey.
She sat next to Lady Nancy, whose petite form occupied one end of a stone bench.
With a start, she realized that the crowd had melted away and the gardens were almost empty. She had been so wrapped up in Gabriel and in her own thoughts that she hadn't even noticed everyone leaving.
"They have gone inside," said Lady Nancy, as if she had read Amelia's thoughts. "They are frightened. It's been some time since most of Zavinia saw a proper dragon duel. I'm sure they're watching from the windows, however."
Amelia thought of the watchtowers. "But you're not scared?"
Lady Nancy drew her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. "They will take every precaution. Besides, so much is at stake. I must watch."
It was too dark to see anyone, or anything. Amelia wondered how she was even going to see them fighting their duel, if she was just going to be stuck here, waiting, while he won . . . or lost.
He will not lose, her dragon said proudly. Our mate is the most powerful, fastest, handsomest dragon in the entire world.
Even with the situation so dire, Amelia had to manage a wry smile. I don’t think his good looks are going to help him tonight, she told her dragon, who remained unruffled by this logic.
“Will we even be able to see them?” Amelia asked, unable to bear the not-knowing.
Lady Nancy patted her hand. “Oh, we’ll see them,” she assured Amelia.
Somehow that didn’t make her feel much better.
The silence became more unbearable as it went on. In the quiet, all her worst thoughts rose to the surface, and there was nothing to distract her from them: If only I was able to shift, he wouldn’t be up there putting his life at risk right now. It’s all my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have even come here. I’m so useless just sitting here . . .
Then she heard a roar in the distance, fierce and full. It sent a shiver down her spine. Then she heard the answering roar, even more deep-throated and intimidating. That was Gabriel, she knew instinctively. Her own dragon’s wings fluttered in response to the sound of her mate, yearning to come out, but still unsure how. She wanted to go to him so badly she ached with it. There was a sense, a warning like an alarm in her head, that told her he was in danger. She would have stood if her hand weren’t trapped in Lady Nancy’s.
The wind stirred, a small breeze that grew more forceful. From far away she thought she heard the sound of wings beating, heavy and slow at first but picking up speed.
BANG!
A sound like a gunshot went off and Amelia almost jumped out of her skin with a loud gasp.
Frightened, she looked around—and then up.
A firework burst in the night sky, a bright purple spray. The light illuminated the dragons rising into the air, just enough for Amelia to see their broad shapes—enormous, sinuous, and winged. She could tell which one was Gabriel: he was silver, almost invisible, while the other was a lighter green. Gabriel was the larger of the two, she thought with a glow of pride.
“I suppose no one told the fireworks attendants what was happening,” Lady Nancy said dryly, and a nervous laugh bubbled up in Amelia’s throat, just as the second firework burst, this one orange.
“I have to see what’s going on,” Amelia decided, rising.
Next to her, Lady Nancy sighed. Internally Amelia braced herself for a lecture. But when they locked gazes, Amelia saw compassion there, not judgment.
“I understand,” Lady Nancy said. “I had a mate too, once.”
Something clicked in the back of Amelia’s mind. “Earlier, you said most people have never seen a dragon duel,” she said slowly.
Lady Nancy understood the implicit question. “Yes, I have.”
“What were they fighting over?” Amelia asked.
Lady Nancy’s smile was sad. “Me.”
“But if you had a mate—” she protested.
“Oh, yes, I did. I’m no dragon shifter, but we were mates. But Pierre—a friend of mine from childhood—he was convinced it wasn’t true. He thought I was his mate, even though I never showed the slightest romantic interest in him. They say you know immediately when someone is your lifemate, but . . . Well, one way or another, he convinced himself. He challenged my mate to a duel for my hand.”
Amelia stared at her, captivated by the story despite everything. “And what happened?”
“My mate—the Crown Prince at the time—defeated him. Pierre left the capital, humiliated. But he was unharmed, which I was glad of. He was my friend once. I didn’t want to see him hurt or killed.”
“Do people—do dragons often get hurt in duels? Do they . . . die?” She whispered the last word, afraid to say it out of superstition.
Lady Nancy hesitated. “It has happened in the past. But,” she added quickly when she saw Amelia’s panicked expression, “that doesn’t mean it will happen tonight.”
Another burst drew Amelia’s attention. The green flare of another firework illuminated the dragon’s bodies once more. They had not yet begun truly fighting. They were circling each other in the sky, dancing around each other as if testing the other’s defenses, waiting for a chance to strike.
If Gabriel got hurt while she was over here, Amelia knew she wouldn’t be able to make it to him in time. She was too far away.
“You cannot interfere,” Lady Nancy said, with a sharp gleam in her eye, like she knew Amelia’s thoughts. “Our oldest traditions hold the dragon duel sacred. No one may step in on either side until one has submitted, fallen unconscious, or perished. They will drive you out of the country.”
Amelia didn’t care about some dusty old traditions; she cared about Gabriel. It wasn’t the thought of losing her throne she cared about. The thought of losing him was too much to bear. She watched as Henri’s head snaked out, hissing a warning and snapping his jaws.
Watching her, Lady Nancy sighed, then lowered her voice. “You need to know what happens to your beloved. I understand. The lower gardens are a little closer. You will see them better from there.”
Amelia’s head whipped around. “The lower gardens?”
Lady Nancy pointed toward a cobblestone path that quickly disappeared between some bushes. “All the way down to the fountain. But be careful,” she added sternly. “There are many tall hedges you can hide behind. Take care Henri doesn’t see you. By law dragons must avoid hurting onlookers to the utmost of their abilities, but that man has already shown how far he is willing to go tonight in pursuit of your crown.”
“I understand.” In an unexpected swell of emotion, Amelia hugged her grandmother for the first time.
Lady Nancy seemed surprised, but returned the embrace, patting her gingerly with white gloves. “Don’t let Gabriel see you, either. He’ll want to protect you. It might distract him.”
Amelia nodded. In the distance the dragons roared again, the sound seeming to echo off the stone and multiply. Picking up her skirts, she turned to go.
“Amelia,” Lady Nancy added, and she looked over her shoulder. “I hope he wins.”
“He will,” Amelia said confidently, though her voice wavered. He has to, she told herself. He must.
He had stepped in on her behalf. He was defending her claim. Amelia knew he would defend her with everything that was in him.
But was that enough?
She raced down the path—as quickly as she could race in heels. The fireworks continued, illuminating the path she was following in brief, colorful bursts of gold, blue, and red.
The farther she went, the louder the dragons sounded. Their roars themselves seemed like a competition to see who could be louder, fiercer, more intimidating. Well, that strategy is working on me, Amelia thought.
She found the fountain Lady Nancy had mentioned. She wasn’t so close to the dueling dragons that she felt herself in danger, but she could at least see what was happening. She tucked herself behind a hedge and lifted her eyes to the sky, unable to look away.
As she watched, Henri rose into the air with several powerful beats of his wings, then folded them in and dove toward Gabriel.
Henri’s dragon was like a green bullet speeding toward its target. Amelia covered her mouth to stifle her cry. Gabriel moved, though not swiftly enough—the bulk of his body got out of the target zone, but Henri did snap his jaws over one wing, dragging his teeth through the skin to produce deep gouges. Amelia heard a sound like tearing paper as the two figures dropped closer to the earth.
Gabriel roared in pain. Amelia’s dragon responded to the sound with a surge of protective anger. The silver dragon maneuvered to swipe a claw over the green one’s now-exposed underbelly. Gabriel hit his mark, forcing Henri to let go to protect himself.
The dragons separated. Both were panting. They had lost some altitude, but they worked to regain it, straining to stay in the sky. The downdraft from their exertions ruffled Amelia’s hair.
Again and again the two dragons met, fought, and separated. Their bodies intertwined in a violent, antagonistic embrace until it was almost impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
Each time they met, Amelia wondered if that would be it, if one of them would falter or fail at last. As the duel wore on, they became visibly slower, more encumbered by their injuries, and their roars dimmed. In the flashes of light from the fireworks display, Amelia could see various gashes and wounds scattered across them both—though, she thought hopefully, Gabriel looked to be in better shape. But it was difficult to tell for sure, and the uncertainty grated against Amelia’s already thin nerves.
Please, Gabriel, please, she thought desperately.
As if responding to her very thoughts, Gabriel whirled around, catching Henri unawares. The larger dragon’s jaw opened, then snapped shut on Henri’s neck. They both struggled to stay aloft. Henri fought off the attack by digging claws deep into Gabriel’s belly.
Gabriel screamed in pain and rage, and Amelia screamed too, driven by her dragon’s pain and anger for her mate. She couldn’t help it. Clapping her hands over her mouth, she watched with bated breath as Henri turned—and looked straight at her.
A new purpose and vitality seemed to course through the green dragon’s limbs. With a burst of fresh energy, he began racing in Amelia’s direction. With Henri’s attention all on her, her sense of the danger Gabriel was in faded—but was quickly replaced by panic for herself.
Gabriel was fast on his tail, but Henri was closer. He was closing in on her quickly, and Amelia could do nothing but watch in horror as he drew nearer.
He was almost on her when Gabriel’s tail wrapped around his throat. All of a sudden Gabriel tried to reverse the direction of his momentum, his enormous wings beating, pulling back where he had been pushing forward, trying to stop Henri from reaching her.
The two dragons slowed, but could not stop. Amelia flung herself to the ground, covering her neck with her hands. Useless, she thought even as she did it instinctively. They wouldn’t protect her from getting crushed or burned to a crisp.
She listened to the dragons roaring by above her with her cheek pressed to cold stone. They flew harmlessly above her, crashing into a hedge and snapping limbs off a nearby tree. She peeked out and saw them tumbling over each other, attacking viciously with claws and teeth, out for blood. Her mind struggled to make sense of the confusion of images. Then they rose again into the air, this time Gabriel positioning himself between Henri and herself. His dragon’s roar was as fierce
as Amelia could remember hearing.
Gabriel went on the attack, pushing Henri further and further away from his intended goal—her. She knew she should run, get away from here as fast as she could, but she couldn’t leave Gabriel. Instead, keeping low, she quickly bolted to another section of the gardens while Henri was distracted and hoped that, and being quiet, would be enough to stay hidden.
The two dragons collided in the air again, a writhing mass of claws and teeth and tails. Amelia placed a hand over her fast-beating heart. How many more iterations of this could she endure? Not many, she thought to herself.
But this time, as the dragons turned over and over, she saw one go limp, defeated. The other released him, and the defeated began to plummet to the ground.
Another flash; the blue firework disguised the dragons’ colors so she couldn’t tell which was which.
Flash: this one white. The sense of imminent danger in Amelia’s head began to wane.
The green dragon was defeated, and Gabriel was victorious.
A deep relief filled Amelia, warming her in the chilly evening. Henri hit the ground a few hundred yards away with a definitive thump.
Gabriel’s descent was slower. But, she realized, the warning bell in her head had not shut up. She looked more closely.
One of his wings was almost ripped to shreds, and the other was keeping him aloft, steadying his descent though he was obviously tired.
But as she watched, something failed. Maybe he was too tired. Maybe there was some injury she hadn’t seen.
But he lost control and began falling.
He was so high. She didn’t know how he would fare if he hit the ground in freefall.
But she knew she couldn’t let it happen.
We have to save him! Amelia’s dragon surged to the front of her mind, taking over and shocking her with its sudden strength.
And then Amelia shifted.
One moment, she was a human standing on the ground. The next, she was launching herself into the air with her new, decidedly inhuman wings.
Amelia’s wings beat hard. She strained for every inch of height she could get. If she didn’t get this right, Gabriel might be hurt, or even die. She didn’t know whether dragons’ amazing healing superpower could fix a broken back, and she didn’t want to find out.