When the change is done,Istraighten and roll my shoulders.Elowenis already fixing her robe, smoothing the wrinkles as best she can.It’sstill white, but not temple-white anymore.Theroads and the river and the wastelands have all left their marks on it.Sohas life,Iguess.
Her eyes lift to mine and for a moment we just stand there.There’ssomething different between us now and we both know it.Shecan feel it—Ican tell.
TheBondisn’t complete, but it’s there…a thin, shining thread strung between us.Somethinglow and constant humming in my chest that tugs me toward her every damn time she moves.Ican’t stop noticing where she is in relation to me…can’t stop tracking her scent…her breathing…the little shifts in her mood.
And now that her eyes are green…
Fuck.
The sight of them still hits me harder than a hammer hitting an anvil.
They’re beautiful—too beautiful.Richemerald instead of innocent sky-blue, and every timeIlook into themI’mreminded of whatIdid…of how good it felt.
Of how badlyIfailed her.
She drops her gaze first andIclear my throat.
“We’d better walk,”Isay.“Lessattention that way.”
In the past she might have joked that yes, arriving in the middle of theKing’sCityon the back of a huge silver dragon might attract a bit of notice but now she says nothing.Sheonly nods silently and falls into step beside me.
The outer road to the city is crowded with people still trying to get in before full dark—farmers with carts, merchants leading pack animals, travelers on foot with bundles strapped to their backs.Nobodypays us much mind at first.Whywould they?We’rejust one more pair among many.
Still,Ikeep close toElowen—closer thanIprobably need to.Everytime someone brushes too near her, my shoulders tense.EverytimeIhear a man laugh too loudly behind us,Iglance back.
“Mine,” myDrakesays again, andIfeel his possessive desire spiking.Hedoesn’t like havingElowenout in a crowd either.Headvances the idea that we ought to just find someplace safe to keep her with us forever.
“Shut up,”Imutter under my breath.
“What?”Elowenasks, frowning.
“Nothing.”Idrag a hand over my horns.“Just…talking to myself.”
“That’s usually a sign of stress,” she says, clearly trying for lightness.
I huff a rough laugh, but there’s not much humor in it.
“You think?We’reabout to invade theKing’sCourtso you can do a complicated magic spell taken from theForbiddenGrimoire.What’sstressful about that?”
Elowen laughs at my joke, butI’mnot sure the humor reaches her eyes.She’sworried about this last leg of our journey together too andIdon’t blame her.Evenif the spell has nothing to do with theKing, it’s still nerve wracking to think of going to his court to do it.
By the time we reach the city gates, the line to get in has thinned.Torcheshave been lit in iron brackets on either side of the broad archway, their flames snapping in the evening breeze.Thegates themselves are thick oak bound in iron, tall enough that myDrakecould probably walk through them without ducking too much.Probably.
TheKing’sGuardsare standing watch in polished mail and crimson cloaks, spears in hand and swords at their hips.They’reletting people in two at a time now, checking faces more than baggage.Idon’t like the way their eyes move overElowenthe moment they see her.
I like it even less when one of them smirks.
“Well now,” he drawls, looking her up and down in a way that makes my fingers curl into fists.“Whathave we here?Prettylittle green-eyed stray.Loseyour husband somewhere, slut?”
I don’t think beforeImove.OnesecondI’mstanding beside her and the nextI’vegot the bastard by the throat, driving him backward so hard he slams into the stone wall of the gate with enough force to rattle his teeth.Hisspear goes clattering to the ground.Theother guards shout, hands going to their weapons, butI’mfaster and meaner and so full of rageIcan barely see straight.
“Don’t you fuckingeversay that to my woman!”Isnarl, tightening my grip until his boots scrape uselessly against the stones.“I’llfuckingkillyou if you do!”
His face goes red, then pale.Hiseyes widen as he gets a good look at me—at my horns and my eyes and the glow starting under my skin—at the fact thatI’mabout half a second away from letting myDrakecome out and roast him alive.
The other guards clearly want to go to their comrade’s aid, but they hesitate, their eyes wide as they stare at me.
Good—theyshouldbe afraid.