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My fingers cling to the stone windowsill. Can he see me? Is he looking for me?
I suck in a breath, ready to call to him, but I let all the air escape my lungs. He’s a stranger, and I’m not even able to shift with these aellurium chains. It’s not safe for me to reveal myself to him.
The golden dragon dips one wing and circles above Hexfall. He’s powerful, his muscles rippling beneath his sleek scales. When he roars, it raises goose bumps on my arms. It’s impossible not to react to him.
Can he tell that I’m in heat? He would be able to detect my scent if I were a dragon, but I’ve been a woman for so long. Too long.
The golden dragon swoops so low that his claws graze the treetops. His shadow passes overhead, but he doesn’t land on the ruined castle. He keeps flying over the forest until he roars again in the distance.
He’s gone.
Shaking, I retreat from the window. Where did he come from? I’ve never even met a golden dragon before. My mother was red, like me, and she told me my father was blue. After years of living in solitude, I had abandoned all hope of another dragon finding me.
Hehasn’tfound me, though, and I don’t even know if he’s unmated.
God, what if the golden dragon wasn’t looking for me? What if he was looking for Rook? My stomach drops. That makes more sense, considering the queen’s knights and sorceress hunting him down. He’s a more valuable target.
I knead my forehead with my knuckles. Should I leave the tower and try to warn Rook?
Not while I’m trapped in my human form and have no clothes except for this borrowed shirt. I don’t even have any shoes. Stumbling barefoot through the Thornwood seems like a stupid fucking idea. I’ve tried several stupid fucking ideas in my life, but I’m not planning to die today at the jaws of dire wolves or other monsters.
God, I need to prepare myself. There must be something useful around Hexfall. I’m not sure if looters would brave a cursed ruin deep in the Thornwood, even if Rook believes it’s safe to hide here.
Leaning against the wall, I walk toward the stairs and stare down them. They spiral in a way that makes me dizzy just thinking about them. Maybe I should sit back down. Perched on the top step, I wait until I’m feeling steadier. I pull myself upright and slide my foot down to the next step.
Cautiously, I descend the stairs.
Down at the bottom of the tower, I stop at the tangle of roses. I prick my finger on one of the thorns, touch the stones, and wait for the briars to writhe away.
I return to the courtyard with the statue of King Mallex the Wrong. After I stare at his face long enough, it’s obvious that Rook shares his jawline and mouth. It’s strange thinking of him as a human, though of course he’s half.
I blink away that thought. I need to find armor, a weapon, or anything practical.
I ignore the royal baths. Instead, I investigate a pair of arched doors in the courtyard. Half expecting them to be locked, I try the handle on one. It groans open beneath my push.
I’ve found the throne room.
Or rather, what’s left of it. Vaulted ceilings soar high above me, painted in crumbling blue and gilded by faded stars. If I squint, I can just make out constellations. Once glorious tapestries molder and unravel on the walls. At the far end of the room, there are shattered windows and a ruined throne.
My stomach does a strange flip. The throne has been carved from black stone, broken down the middle long ago, with swirling carvings on the arms. It has a brutal, intimidating aura of power.
I wander toward the throne. I’m tempted to sit upon it, though I’m not sure why. It’s an urge deep in my gut.
The door bangs open. Fear rushes through my blood and I whirl around.
Rook.
“Pyrah!” His shout echoes down the throne room. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He sounds so angry with me that I flinch. “Looking for loot.”
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. He appears to be trying to calm down. When he strides down the throne room, it’s obvious that he’s clenching his jaw.
“You were meant to rest,” he says, forcing his voice to be level.
“I couldn’t sleep. Not without you.”
His hard mask cracks, but he looks away quickly. “Fuck. Don’t…”
