by Kyra Jacobs
The young warrior steered his steed toward a nearby oak and retrieved the instrument, hanging from a nail embedded in the tree’s thick trunk. Korey raised it to his lips, drew in a deep breath, and issued a loud, clear blast. Zayne closed his eyes and prayed to the heavens no blast would be sent back, that the guards wouldn’t allow them to approach, that Addie would have no choice but to remain in his care. But his prayers went unheard—a long, clear tone soon answered theirs.
It was Sol, Brom’s younger brother, who swung down from his horse and came to stand beside them now. “Shall I help you down, my lady?”
“Help down? Oh. Right.” She looked from Sol to Zayne. “Who will I be riding with the rest of the way?”
“Brom. He, Sol, and Korey will ensure you make it to your destination safely, my lady.”
“So, this is it?” Addie’s crystalline eyes met his. “This is where we part ways?”
Zayne swallowed hard and held her gaze. “Aye.”
She looked down and shook her head. “God, I suck at good-byes.” She breathed a small laugh and placed a soft hand upon Zayne’s chest. “Thank you, for all you’ve done. I shall never forget you, Prince Zayne Godfrey of Edana.”
He lifted her chin and waited for her gaze to meet his once again before answering, “And I shall never in all my days forget you, sweet Adelaide.”
Her eyes began to glisten. Stubborn even now, she fought to hide her suffering behind a smirk on her lips. Without forethought, Zayne bent to claim those very lips with his own, to taste of them before she was gone from his life forever. She stilled, clearly surprised by his action, but to his great relief, she didn’t pull away. Her eyelids slid shut, and his did the same, allowing his other senses to take control. She tasted of sugar and honey, and the feeling of her cool, smooth lips pressed against his ignited a fire within his heart he hadn’t known existed. One not fueled by lust or desire alone, but something more. So much more.
Without breaking the kiss, he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs across her silky smooth skin. She shivered beneath his touch, and Zayne deepened the kiss, wanting nothing more in this world than to devour her this very—
Brom cleared his throat. “Sire, Forath awaits.”
At his words, Addie’s eyes opened and grew wide with surprise. She blinked several times as though waking from a spell and drew back, pulling free from his hands as her cheeks flushed a beautiful scarlet. Zayne wished for the first time in his life he’d been born a wizard, not a dragon, for this was an enchantment he’d have never allowed to be broken. The prince shot Brom a look of reproach.
“I really should be going,” Addie whispered. “Before I get you into any more trouble.”
Zayne nodded, the agony of her departure rendering him silent. Drawing on the last of his willpower, he helped her down into Sol’s awaiting arms. She flinched at the broad man’s touch, then offered him an embarrassed apology for doing so.
“No need to apologize, my lady. Unlike my brother, I neither bark nor bite.” He held his arm out to escort her and gave her a wink. “Much.”
She offered him a tentative grin, and jealousy flared inside Zayne once more. But it was a jealousy he had no right to possess nor reason to keep. In a few moments, the woman would be lost to him forever. Though, truly, she hadn’t been his from the start.
Sol led her to Brom’s large, ebony steed and hoisted her into his brother’s grasp. Addie’s beautiful cheeks flushed a deeper scarlet as Brom wrapped a battle-scarred arm around her waist to secure her. He waited for Sol to mount his horse, then cast Zayne a questioning look. Zayne studied Addie for a long moment, trying to memorize her every feature before she was gone forever, then gave Brom a reluctant nod. The men set off across the clearing, Korey and Sol in the lead with Brom and Addie following.
Zayne watched in silence as the distance between his horse and theirs steadily grew, knowing this moment would forever be etched into his mind. In but a day, Adelaide had touched his very soul, awakened passions long left dormant, and yet he here he sat, helpless to do anything now but watch her go. His father demanded it, their rivals expected it, and two kingdoms desperately needed this act of good faith. She was in the safest of hands, as the instructions to his most trusted men had been clear: protect her at all cost. Never would they disobey him. Still, even beyond the torture ravaged upon his heart, a nagging anxiety perplexed him.
“Shall we continue on then, sire?” asked Rowan, one of Zayne’s remaining men as Brom’s small band reached the center of the clearing.
“Not until they have crossed safely beyond the gates.”
A sound met his ears then, one familiar to Zayne and so yet unexpected that he was sure he’d imagined it: the launch of an arrow from a tightly wound bow. His trained gaze zeroed in on an object slicing through the still afternoon air. The weapon—an arrow, indeed—lodged itself into the ground beside Brom’s galloping steed. Shouts erupted from the small band as Korey angled his steed to shield Brom and Addie. As he did, a second arrow found the young warrior’s chest and a third his horse, which stumbled and fell with a guttural scream.
Brom and Sol turned their steeds in retreat, Sol now acting as shield to Addie and Brom, as a stream of arrows rose from atop Forath’s walls. Zayne watched in horror as the reality of the situation set in. They’d been ambushed.
“No!” The air around him came alive, whipping and swirling in a manner more fierce and immediate than ever before.
“Sire, you mustn’t!” shouted Rowan.
Zayne knew his warrior’s words to be true. Changing into dragon form now would add insult to injury and suggest that he cared more for this girl than for his betrothed, for his father’s demands, for peace. But those were concerns of human logic. They mattered little to the fiery beast sharing his soul, which ripped and clawed its way out. As his body stretched and fire filled his lungs, Zayne’s dragon mind held but one thought:
Protect Addie.
Chapter Ten
Princess Rosalind drew near her family’s dining chamber and was greeted by the sounds of a heated debate between her father and brother, Tristan. She slowed her step, curious as to the topic and all too aware that the moment she stepped into view, they’d likely fall silent. Such discussions were not appropriate in the company of a lady. Though when the name of her betrothed wafted out into the hall, she wondered if this time might well be different.
“Impudent boy. I never should have let either him or his father draw the engagement out this long,” her father said.
“But if truth lies in the scroll, Father, Prince Zayne is a hero.”
“Bah,” the king said. “’Tis a lie to cover up his deplorable behavior, nothing more. You are far too trusting, my son.”
“Perhaps. And his pledge to marry Rosalind in a fortnight? Do you believe that to be a lie as well?” Tristan asked, his voice light.
Rosalind’s breathing hitched. Had she heard her brother correctly? Had the date for their wedding finally been set?
“No,” said her father. “That was a strategic move I plan to enforce. If the wedding does not happen by his specified time, there will be no wedding. I am through with negotiations.”
“And the girl?”
“I shall make an example of her. No peasant whore will tarnish the image of our family, or what shall soon become of it.”
“But Father.” The lightness was now gone from Tristan’s voice. “She may be innocent! What message would that send to our people, then?”
“If we silence her first, our people will never be the wiser.”
“Father, please. I implore you, take pity on the girl.”
Rosalind’s hands curled into fists. A woodland harlot had run off with Prince Zayne, and her own brother was defending the girl? Did he care nothing for his sister’s feelings?
“’Tis but one life, Tristan. A small price to pay to deter future uprisings.”
“I shall not question your reasoning, Father, but I must tell you, I have an
odd feeling—”
“Enough,” said the king, his voice low. “The girl will be brought here tonight and burned at the stake tomorrow. I’ve already sent my men ahead to her village to have a post set in their main square.”
“Yes, Father,” replied Tristan, his voice barely audible.
The princess took a deep breath and smoothed the fury from her face. Though Tristan’s misplaced loyalty pained her, she chose instead to focus on the satisfaction of knowing the wench would get what she deserved. Rosalind shifted her gaze away from the chamber’s door and toward a window across the hall. A trip outside the castle would be a welcome break to the monotony of the past few weeks. Perhaps she’d request to accompany her father on the journey. While there, she’d be sure to meet the gaze of each remaining girl in that village and make sure the message had been received.
She would let nothing stand in the way of this wedding.
Nothing.
Chapter Eleven
Addie clenched her eyes shut and bit back the hundredth scream as her winged rescuer dipped and wove through the clouds above Edana’s countryside. Far, far above it. If she’d thought the ride on Will had been pushing her comfort zone all day, this blew that level of anxiety right out of the water. Her only saving grace now was two pairs of unmoving golden talons clamped like shackles of steel onto her arms and legs. And so she kept telling herself over and over that Zayne—who, as she’d come to find out just moments ago, truly could change into a dragon—wouldn’t let her fall. That she was perfectly safe.
Safe. Would she ever truly know that feeling again? Zayne suddenly took them higher, the negative G-force taunting her already queasy stomach. She’d thought she was safe on her run yesterday and foolishly again on the last part of her journey today. Both times she’d been wrong. Nearly dead wrong. If it hadn’t been for Zayne—
The scene from the battlefield flashed to her mind. The sound of something hissing through the air, then burrowing into the ground behind Brom’s giant black horse with a resounding thump. She’d barely had time to look back and register what it was before Korey had been struck. And then his horse.
Both had fallen with screams of pain to the ground, painting it red with blood. Before she could react, Brom turned his horse in retreat. That was when she saw what, until that moment, she hadn’t truly believed was possible: a man—a walking, talking, human being—disappear behind a swirling cloud of dust…to reemerge as an honest-to-God giant, fire-breathing dragon.
The beast was both terrifying and magnificent to behold, his golden scales gleaming bright as the surface of the sun in the fading afternoon light. With an earth-shattering roar, it breathed a shower of flames into the arrow-filled sky, reducing the hurtling weapons to dust. Then the dragon took flight and crossed the clearing in a flash, scorching Forath’s gate and the men positioned to defend it. She could still hear their screams of pain, still picture several of them as they fell, burning alive, from their posts.
The winged beast took no pity upon the survivors as it rained fire down upon the wall once more before circling back toward Zayne’s small band of warriors. Without warning, Brom lifted her off the saddle and raised her into the air as though she weighed no more than a small sack of potatoes. She’d shrieked with fear, as his horse hadn’t slowed, but the fear of falling from his grip was nothing compared to the fear that surged through her as the dragon plucked her from Brom’s grasp with its gleaming talons and dragged her skyward.
Skyward, and in the opposite direction of home.
The wind at her face softened, and the feeling of descent washed over her. She cracked one eye open and immediately wished she hadn’t. The beast was angled toward the ground, but all she could see was a dizzying blur of trees and rocks beneath them. With a gasp, she clamped both eyes shut again and prayed she would survive the landing…and whatever came after.
In another moment, the great beast’s hind feet met the ground and its wings fell silent. Addie could hardly hear her hitched breaths over the pounding of her heart and, coward that she was, kept her eyes closed. The dragon lowered its front legs slowly, and her feet felt solid ground for the first time in what felt like ages. The talons withdrew from her trembling arms and, weak with relief, she dropped to her knees and waited for her heart to slow.
Cool air and the scent of damp earth greeted her. There was no wind, no sound except for her and the shifting of the dragon close by. She shivered from the cold and felt the beast settle onto the ground beside her. A strong leathery wing settled over her, and she bit back a crazed giggle at the vision of some giant momma chicken tucking a scared chick under one wing.
Scared or not, she was no chick, and the beast beside her was definitely no chicken.
The darkness outside her closed lids lightened to orange as the dragon breathed flames onto something nearby, and soon the crackling of wood echoed in the space around them. As the air around them warmed, Addie’s shivers began to subside. It was time to stop hiding behind closed eyes and, afraid or not, face the reality of the situation. With one more deep breath, she opened her eyes.
A massive shoulder of golden scales, glowing in the light of the nearby bonfire, came into view, as did the edge of a leathery wing curled protectively around her shoulder. The great beast’s chest rose and fell as she watched, the dragon’s breathing slow and calm. But nothing about it—no, not it, she reminded herself, him—had been calm when she’d seen him take wing earlier. Then, he’d been like a messenger from the very depths of Hell.
Though the sight should have scared her to death, once the shock of what she was seeing passed, Addie had felt a surge of immense hope, as though he were her personal savior, rising up to save her yet again. And though instinct told her to be wary, that she was trapped by a monster with no hope of escape, she slid out from beneath its wing and reached a trembling hand to the dragon’s side.
The muscles beneath its golden scales tensed and shifted, and Addie recoiled as a neck the length of a full giraffe rose and snaked toward her. Two glowing golden eyes came into view a good six feet above her, each the size of a bowling ball, set several feet back from the toothy end of a long, narrow snout. The creature was beautiful and almost equine in shape, so very different from the reptilian depictions she’d seen in storybooks as a child. But this was no giant lizard, nor some paper pop-up character from a children’s book.
This. Was. Real.
The dragon regarded her in silence, and for the first time, Addie wondered how much of the man existed inside him when he was in this form. Could he hear her? Understand her? Sense her fear?
“Zayne?” she whispered.
A rumbling sounded in the dragon’s throat like that of a giant purring cat, and its eyes slid shut as its snout slowly lowered to eye level. Addie released the breath she’d been holding and laid a tentative hand on the tip of its nose. The rumbling grew in volume, and Addie released a shaky laugh.
“It is you, isn’t it?”
The dragon’s head lowered farther and gave her skirt a gentle nudge.
“But it can’t be. You can’t be. There are no such things as dragons.”
The creature opened narrowed eyes and gave her a small snort.
With a weary chuckle, she ran a hand over her mess of a hairdo, then leaned against the beast’s shoulder for support. “That’s it. I’ve officially lost my mind.”
The dragon’s face drew back, and the two stared at one another for a long moment. Here, though the size of several large elephants all rolled into one, he seemed gentle, trustworthy. But back in the clearing before Forath’s great wall, he’d looked more like a giant phoenix who’d taken flight to save them all.
All, she suddenly remembered with a small gasp, except one.
“He’s dead, isn’t he? Korey?”
The dragon’s head dipped in acknowledgment, and a new realization entered her thoughts.
“Oh God,” she whispered. “He’s dead because of me.”
Overwhelmed by sorrow for a
man whose life had been so cruelly cut short, Addie slumped to her knees. Had Korey left behind a wife? Children? The warrior had done nothing to provoke the attack. He’d simply followed the orders given to him by Prince Zayne. Now he was dead because of her and her insistence that she get back home.
Dead.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
Zayne’s wing curled around her, drawing her closer.
“No,” she said as another sob rattled through her chest. “I don’t deserve to be comforted. I should be cast out, away from you and the rest of your subjects.”
The dragon snorted but did not yield. Addie pushed harder against her leathery cage. “I’m serious, Zayne. I’m nothing but bad luck. All around me people are getting hurt, or killed. Hell, you probably just started a freaking war back there because of me. Because of me! So let me go, let me get as far away from you as possible, before—”
You die too. She swallowed back the words, unwilling to voice them aloud. With a cry she shoved harder against Zayne’s wing, trying her best to escape from his grasp. She wouldn’t be the cause of his death.
A small whirlwind engulfed them for the briefest of moments, and suddenly it wasn’t a giant wing holding her in place but the iron grip of a familiar pair of human hands. Zayne stood before her, bare-shouldered and eyes blazing. “Enough.”
“Please, let me go,” she whispered. “I can’t bear the thought of anyone else getting hurt, not for me. I-I’ll find the way back on my own, and if I don’t make it, well, at least no one else would have to suffer.”
“Do you truly believe no one would suffer if you were gone?” His grip tightened around her arms. “What I did for you today, did it mean nothing? Nothing to you at all?”
Addie cringed, frightened by his anger and so very confused. “I…you…you changed so you could save us. Save your men. Isn’t that what you’re sworn to do?”