Page 108 of Dream Reaper

His shadow bent against the wall

In shapes not born of dreams.

So sing of queens who bargain deep

With powers in the gloom,

For curses cling like winter bark⁠—

And follow bloodlines home.

“Well, that’s the worst song I’ve ever heard,” Ylsi said hotly, sitting back with flaming cheeks. “The prince should have gotten what he deserved. Not…not…well, rescuing!”

Some of the younger children giggled behind their dark gray hands, but Ava’s chest grew tight, and the older girls exchanged hard, pained glances. The little ones didn’t understand why this particular detail had struck Ylsi so hard.

They didn’t understand what it meant to be a powerless bride.

Ava hesitated a moment before reaching out to lay a hand on the girl’s knee. “Perhaps he did get what he deserved in the end. The song suggested all did not end well. Perhaps he suffered more later as he learned about his humanity and then lost it.”

Ylsi frowned at her, but her expression shifted as she at least considered Ava’s words.

“I don’t suppose you could have picked something a little cheerier,” Siri muttered to her husband.

Finnr’s cheeks turned pink, and he shrugged. “Alas, there are no cheery tales about the Rootwyrm Prince. He’s a naughty chap who does naughty things and gets walloped and skinned alive.”

A chorus of ewwwws went around the room that devolved into giggles. And Finnr, winking, returned to his post, apparently feeling that he had done his work well.

Ava caught Brynja’s eye, unsure if she should laugh or be disgusted with the man and his moody ballads. But Brynja was smirking.

Apparently, this wasn’t abnormal.

“I still think I’d rather face the rootwyrms than the shadow,” the girl who had inspired the ballad announced with a sulky frown.

“At least you won’t face it alone,” Ava said gently. “We’ll face it together. And I will help you.”

The girls’ gazes swiveled to her, and Ava swallowed the lump in the back of her throat, hoping she looked confident and not as worried as she felt.

“I’ll help you,” she repeated more firmly. “My magic isn’t much, but I’ll use every bit of my flame to protect you from this creature. We’ll fight it together, however we can.”

“And you’re still the dragon queen, aren’t you?” Roar asked, jiggling up and down on his bare toes. “So, if that thing comes in here, you’ll turn into a dragon and bite its tentacles off, right?”

Ava coughed and glanced at Brynja. “I’m not sure about that, but I’ll use every weapon at my disposal to fight this thing.”

She hadn’t told Brynja what Dragon had revealed to her before he left. About the empty, gaping hole in her chest. The loneliness clawing at her mind. He’d only been in her head for a short time, but she had already come to depend on him. The depth of that dependence left her feeling vulnerable.

And she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Because when he had walked away…when the connection between them snapped…

Ava had never known such pain. It surely would have been better to never know Jerrid and Dragon than to know them and lose them. Just as she had loved and lost her parents. As she might love and lose her brother. And all the girls here.

Was it better to love and lose or to keep her heart walled off? Stay unattached?

Ava folded her hands in her lap and stared down at her interlaced fingers while Roar began to regale the children with a rousing reenactment of Ava battling Talos in the forest. He kicked and spun and tumbled around the room, kicking and falling on top of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the wake of his warpath.

Shouts of outrage and laughter filled the room.

A smile wanted to tug at her lips, but she held it back. She feared it was already too late for her—she was already attached to these girls, these children.