Page 22 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
Scorpia smiles as I set my cup down, while Drakon holds his cup under his nose. His nostrils flare as he stares at Scorpia with alarm.
My chest becomes tight. My vision blurs.
“I… I don’t feel well.” My words are becoming slurred.
Scorpia stands, a twisted smile reaching her lips. “Don’t waste your breath. It was a nice speech, but I’m sending you back home. Relax, this will all be over soon.”
I don’t seem to have a choice—I’m tumbling, falling against the back of my chair. The water I drank, it was…toosour. Poisoned. My body feels distant as I sink back. All I want is to sleep…
And I’m not the only one. Others are slumping too. Most of the clan has fallen to Scorpia’s deceit. Only a few sit upright, while those who knew this scheme rise, prepared to fight.
Drakon’s eyes stay wide. He’s okay—or at least, he seems alert, his cup undisturbed. “Cyran poison,” he whispers.
Kaliyah has fallen too, and she looks at him, blinking several times. Then she holds my gaze, giving Drakon a command. “Take Reina. And run.”
Drakon
I don’t want to leave Kaliyah, the clan, but the elder is right. This isn’t the time for fighting, but retreat. Scorpia had this well planned. It’s a miracle my sensitive nose detected something was off, warning me off the drink.
I react, taking the best path forward. My wings form, expanding wide, as I lift Reina’s limp form into my arms. Her eyes haven’t quite closed, but the strength is gone from her body. My back is exposed to Scorpia, and I quickly turn to face her. I snarl, making my point clear.
“Don’t you dare follow me,” I warn, flapping my wings and finding lift. I race for the balcony. I’ll keep Reina safe. There’s a place I know…
“Don’t let them escape,” Scorpia commands her subordinates.
I brace myself, allowing my rage to take hold. I prepare to injure members of my clan for the sake of escape, hating how my dragon’s rush can protect Reina, but at the cost of my clan’s safety. This is not a comfortable thing, but Kaliyah asked it of me, and I will do my duty.
I’m holding Reina too tight, and my claws press into her skin. I force my hands to loosen, battling the consumption of my rage. She’s aware, in a distant way—I’m certain of it when she gasps.
Fireflies spark, rising from her mouth, like those I saw around the throne. They surround us, forming a barrierbetween Reina and Scorpia’s followers.Wisp.The isle aids our escape.
Relieved, I struggle against my rage, urging it to hush—it would rather fight than run. Successful, I hold Reina tight in my arms, and we escape, leaving the clan in Scorpia’s claws.
Awakening
Reina
My stomach grumbles, reminding me that despite dinner’s wonderful smell, I never had the chance to eat.
Warm blankets cover me, and I’m reminded of the nest Drakon built for me near the throne. Is that where I am? It’s hard to open my eyes.
Now I remember. I never had the chance to eat because Scorpia poisoned me. It’s confusing, but I remember Drakon taking me away, and my last drifting memories are from his arms. I remember glinting light, the return of fireflies…
I’m sluggish to wake, drifting in and out of sleep, but in time, hunger helps me rise.
This cave is new, smelling different from the rest. Like the air has been still too long, becoming stale, but that’s changing. A breezeway has been opened.
When I can keep my eyes open, I take stock of this much smaller cavern. The nest is in a lower section, near the back, and daylight streams from the cavern’s mouth, passing through another room to reach me. Someone left a waterskin near the nest, and while I’m thirsty, the poison is still thick in my throat, and I don’t drink.
In time, I rise, struggling to balance, wobbling more than I’d like. My mind is slow and thoughts dreary—whatever the cyran poison did to me, it hasn’t left my system. Not completely.
I stumble my way out of the nest and step into the main cave. This one has bins for storage, a roughly cut bench, a matching table, and not much else.
Dusk’s dim light streams through the rock-hewn doorway, drawing me closer, and when I find myself standing upon a small ledge, I gasp. I’m much higher than expected.
The cliff wall is sharp, making it a long fall to the canyon’s basin and the stream of lava that flows through it. Dusky skies illuminate the narrow canyon while the brightest stars greet me with a jarring clarity—my body still torn between fatigue and rising fears. The ocean pounds into the seaside cliffs, crashing where the canyon meets an abrupt end.
It’s strange how my fear doesn’t escalate when I look down. Maybe it’s part of becoming dragon fae. There is no reason to fear heights if I have wings—wings I don’t know how to use.
