Page 7 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
Reina
The two dragon fae see me. Or at least, they suspect I’m hidden in this crevice. First, he turns in my direction, and her gaze quickly follows.
While I couldn’t hear what they were saying, I’ve watched them since they entered the hall. I’m sure that the male is the one who scared me. I will never forget the gleam of his red scales.
His companion has gray hairs and a slight limp, so I assume she’s much older than him. She seems to be someone the male trusts for advice. His bent posture shows me a new insecurity, an uncertainty that almost makes him less frightening.Almost.
Because now that he looks at me with ferocious hunger, I tremble.He rushes toward me and leaps over a table. He jumps, catching himself on wings that sprout from his back.
He’s definitely still terrifying.
I rush deeper into the narrow tunnel, squirming my body backward, desperate to put space between myself and the dragon fae. Except retreating into darkness scares me too, and so I stop just out of reach.
“Human,” he says.
I could pretend I’m not here. But he sniffs loudly, and I suspect he can smell me. I’m trapped… Talking won’t hurt.
“Yes?” I squeak.
His voice is deep and authoritative, but he doesn’t say much. “Come out,” is all.
Unsure of where to turn for safety, I stay quiet. Retreating is bleak. No food, no water. I could use his help.
“I’ll give my oath,” he continues. The words seem to surprise him, and he has to confirm them, even to himself. “Yes. An oath that I will protect you.”
A fae oath. I have heard of this, a special promise made with the Isles as their witness—vows with consequences for anyone who breaks them.
“Do it,” I reply.
He seems surprised. Whether it’s because I’m agreeable or that he’ll have to follow through on his offer, I’m not sure.
“I, Drakon, grandson of Ichor, the last king of my clan, will keep you from harm. I swear it upon our Isle of Wisp.”
Wisp.So that’s where I am.
When he invokes the land, the stones surrounding me warm, as if they’re sealing the deal, and either my eyes are playing tricks on me, or there is a flicker of fireflies.
I swallow, letting the words of safety settle within me. They had a depth of truth I’ve never witnessed before, and the prospect that such vows are possible makes me tremble. My former husband once gave a vow to care for me—fae oaths make human promises seem shallow.
“Okay,” I accept.
When I crawl out of the crevice, he’s there, catching me before I stumble to the floor. I’m freed from the dark cave, but I’m not sure what I’ve been liberated into.
I squirm, but he doesn’t set me down. Instead he frowns, his gaze homed in on my feet. The tatters of fabric that I’ve wrapped around them have all but fallen off, baring patches of both wet and dry blood. They look worse than I imagined. Pain blooms anew.
“You’re hurt,” he rasps, pulling me closer to his chest. His skin is hot, like a furnace burns within his chest, and I’m drawn closer, disregarding the fear of being burned.
He gave me his oath.I justify my tentative trust.
I stop resisting. He’s right—I am hurt. And if he’s willing to carry me, my feet need the rest. I’m uncomfortable surrendering to a stranger’s embrace, but he supports me all the same.
“Drakon?” I ask. “That’s your name?”
He nods. His gaze locks on my face, and I find his gold-rimmed hazel eyes warm, not frightening like before.
“I’m Reina,” I tell him. A queen’s name—my mother’s dying wish. Father liked to remind me that it was a silly name, too regal for a fishing family like us, but he didn’t deny her wish, even after he saw my purple scaled birthmark.
“Rein-a,” Drakon says my name, slowing on each syllable. I like the way he says it—without the disdain my village showed. Spoken by his deep voice, it finally sounds like the name of a queen.
