Page 46 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
It would be so easy to cover her with my wings, cage her in, and never let her go. It is an instinct I must swallow with every second.
“I’ve decided,” she whispers. “I want to attempt the throne’s rite. Today. No more delay.”
My stomach sinks as I clutch her closer. “I will not stop you.”
“I’ll be okay,” she assures me.
We both know it’s an empty promise, and my eyes squeeze shut. She didn’t see Alinae consumed by the throne, or how her death ruined Scorpia. If I could, I would take Reina’s place, taking the risk upon myself.
At the very least, I can tell her how I feel. “I’ve lived for a century, and in all those years, nobody has seen meas you do. There has been nobody I have longed to protect as I do you. Even as I admire your courage, I would rather you leave this isle, live on. Do not risk your life. I want to encourage you—I want to stop you.”
“I know.”
“It makes me wonder, is this… love?”
“Love?” She breathes the word, then chuckles. “I wouldn’t know the meaning of it.”
I’m not sure I would either. Gently, I kiss her neck, her cheeks, worshiping her with my lips as my words fail me.
“I’m sorry, to take this risk,” she whispers. “To put you through this. You’ve been my foundation, and… if it’s possible, I might love you too.”
My breath hitches. “Then don’t go.”
“I need to do this. Confront Wisp. Please understand.”
Her jaw is set, beautiful in her determination. There are layers between Wisp and the Blessed One that I cannot comprehend. “I don’t understand,” I admit. “But I trust you to do what is right.”
Confrontation
Reina
We fly to the central caverns, Drakon leading our return to the clan. The countless balconies carved into the volcanic stone are reminiscent of my first night on Wisp, and yet, as I fly under the power of my own wings, my perspective is irrevocably changed.
Wisp. Home. Clan.
Everything has new meaning.
We fly to the largest balcony, approaching the great hall and the throne within. Several dragon fae are posted outside the doors, and when they look up at us and point, I take the cue—flying ahead of Drakon, becoming the leader.
Swallowing, I gird myself with confidence I don’t quite feel. It’s with great relief that I land gracefully, the cool stone under my bare feet. My rosy-pink skirts are torn and dirty, but I keep my spine straight as a would-be queen.
Retracting my wings, I signal that we arrive in peace, while Drakon keeps himself braced, wings wide. I resist the instinct to glance back—it’s enough to know he is there if we need to retreat.
“I’m here to speak with Scorpia,” I command the guards.
They glance at one another, and without talking, someone disappears into the great hall. The rest brace themselves, eyeing Drakon, readying for a fight.
We wait, and I work through each breath, clearing myself of doubt.
Scorpia marches onto the balcony, expanding her wings, making her presence known. Several more dragon fae follow, greatly outnumbering Drakon and myself. I take a few steps back, nearing the ledge.
“I want to claim the throne.” I make my intentions clear.
Scorpia’s nose scrunches. “Why? It could kill you. What has my fool of a nephew said to convince you?”
“It’s a risk of my choosing,” I counter, keeping a tremor from my voice. “And if you deny me this choice, you’re no different from those before.”
She stomps closer. “That doesn’t answer my question.Why?”
