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She supposed it depended on what held you together.
What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
He had no fucking idea how to be a dragon king. He didn’t know any of these guys.
He could walk away, go back to his life traveling the world.
Alone.
Alone, because he sure as hell knew Kymri wouldn’t leave her people unprotected.
She also said they couldn’t be together on her island anyway.
In what scenario would they ever have had a shot?
He glanced at his mother. She’d been forced into leaving in order to protect him. If he hadn’t been under threat, would she have gone back and let him be raised by his father?
Maybe.
Things change.
Lives change.
No one ever goes back.
“What will you do now?”
Elora’s expression turned grim, brow creased, then cleared. “That depends on you.”
“And you?” he asked Kymri.
“I have to say my answer also depends on you.”
The expectation on their faces was crushing. His muscles began to itch, forcing him to move. He needed to get out of this place. This suffocating mountain. He felt the need to expand. He hated confined places. He needed to see the sky, the stars.
“I need some air,” he said, leaving them in the room.
Stalking the halls, he tried to remember the rough direction they’d come from, until he ran into someone. The next person he saw happened to be the guy who had brought meals to him during his imprisonment.
“I want to go outside, where’s the way out?”
He gave a short bow, “This way, sire.”
Jori sighed.
The man stole a curious glance as they walked.
“What is it?”
“Master Stenlen may be a good ally for you, sire. He has always been loyal to the throne.”
Jori snorted, “And his goons?”
“Goons, sire.”
They turned a corner and faced a set of steel doors. The man pressed his thumb to the keypad, which scanned the digit.
This wasn’t the way they’d come in.
