Page 14 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
Reina
The next time I stir, it’s with vigor. In a burst of power, my mind is bright, my body rested.
I wake from a dream that wasn’t one, and the last thing I remember was the lava deconstructing me. It burned me down to the bones, numbing me to remake me. Remade into… what? I rise from the transformation, my heartbeat syncing to the pounding of a drum as I return to consciousness.
Immediately, I’m overwhelmed by sensation.
I’m weighed down by blankets. I turn my cheek, feeling the silky pillow beneath it. I slide against it, catching scales—
Scales?
Panicked, I rub my face, discovering my cheekbones are now rough. My fingers drift down to my old birthmark, confirming that my dream was true and it has spread. I rub the scaly skin of my collarbones.
I’m desperate to inspect the rest of my body when I realize I have an audience; the dragon fae are watching me. I freeze. The drumbeat stops, and a hush sweeps through the crowd. My heart races and my stomach churns.
They’ve been holding vigil for me.This concept ofvigilstrikes me as strange—the knowledge isn’t mine, but my mind understands what it means. There’s more information, evidencethat my shift runs deeper than skin, adding to my anxiety. What have I become?
The great hall is brighter than before, daylight seeping through the hallway behind me. I’ve been sleeping on the dais, not far from the throne—the Maledictum returned to its seat.
My clan has moved benches so they face the dais, the throne, and me. During the vigil, they’ve been meditating, supporting me.
Clan. The word takes on more meaning. I understood it meantcommunity,but the concept feels more complete now that I’m connected to it.
Only my clan is far too small. This can’t be everyone—this great hall could serve a thousand, but I estimate only a couple hundred are gathered here. And yet… these are the ones who remain.
My gaze wanders the room, examining the chamber with a different perspective. Most of the long tables are dusty from disuse or shoved aside in favor of creating open space. The clan seems to favor a subset of the giant cave, clustering on the opposite side—far from the throne.
Why are there so few of them? I’m worried, and it’s a concern that isn’t just mine. The fear rises from the cavern, the throne, linked to my knowledge ofclanandvigil.
The scales on my skin are strange, but this deeper awareness is… incomprehensible. I didn’t invite it, and while the understanding is useful, I’m scared. I’m accessing information that isn’t mine, feeling emotions that don’t match my experience.
It’s the fireflies.Realizing that, I wonder if I’m going mad.
Because I know it’s Wisp’s knowledge flowing into me. She told me I’m her Blessed One, but by Teyr, I can only grasp the fringe of what that means—champion,savior, andqueen.
It’s overwhelming.
My head pounds, my scalp becoming tight. Despite the gigantic cavern, it’s somehow difficult to breathe.
I need fresh air. I need out of here.
Ignoring the clan, I run past the throne, through the hallway, and onto the balcony. My new strong body is quick, and within moments, I’m taking a breath of sea air, desperate to calm my panic before it begins.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment—I can’t imagine what my clan must think of that. I woke and immediately ran.
“Reina.”
It’s Drakon. I spin around to face him, wringing my sweaty hands. I’m shaking my head, my lips twisting with uncertain words.
“You’re safe,” he says.
I want to argue with him—I do not know what is happening to me, and that can’t possibly besafe—except his eyes are wide with concern, and when I meet his gaze, he helps me settle. I take another breath, this one less rushed than the last.
He shows his palms, stepping toward me, signaling peace. Still holding my gaze, he nods in time with my breaths, helping me through each one. My panic ebbs, my shoulders softening.
“Better?” he asks.
“A little.” With another gigantic sigh, more of the anxiety passes.
