Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

I t's unnervingly quiet as the sun tips slowly over the horizon, its rays flashing beams of red and yellow softly across my sheets. They match the blood that soaked them overnight from my back from the punishment. I climb out of bed carefully and roll my aching shoulders. The healing pads slide off me and fall to the floor.

Gods above, I'm sore, but it's manageable at least. Just.

I dress quickly in the clothes Lochlan hid under my bed for me earlier in the week. His dark leather pants and short black shirt cling to my tender bones. I tuck my hair into his black hat, clipping my locks in place so not even a single strand of rose gold can fall out. It feels a little weird to wear his clothes, but no one will recognise me, and I have to admit it's comforting to have clothes on that are a mark of freedom and not chains.

Lastly, I pull his very worn gold cloak around my shoulders. It smells just like him. Peppermint, like the teas he makes for the priestesses every morning and night. I then grab the daggers my uncle gave me years ago to protect me. He told me to always hide them from the priestesses and use them if anyone tried to kill me and he wasn't around. The irony is that I was never able to use them. I knew if I did, the priestess would just make my life even more unbearable. Sometimes it was easier to sleep in my cage than fight it.

I pull the daggers out from inside the mattress, a slit I cut and stitched back together so that no one would ever see it. Glancing at the two red blades, my parents' seal still decorates the handle, the gold moon shrouded in a haze of ruby. It is illegal to hold anything with my parents' crest in the kingdom since anything to do with my parents' reign was hunted down and burned. I heard the king offered gold for anyone who bought in traitors or black-market vendors harbouring weapons with their seal.

Tears sting my eyes and I grip the dagger tighter. The king erased everything to do with my parents. Everything except for me. And for these daggers, it seems. I always thought it was a little part of my uncle rebelling when he gave me these. Some echo of him still saying that he remembers my parents. He is still loyal to them and their rule. I need that hope. I feel like I'm the only one that even remembers them these days.

I sheath the daggers in my cloak, placing them into the hidden pockets with the hilt turned upright. That will make it easy for me to grab them quickly if need be. Loch taught me how to fight with daggers, bows, swords and even an axe when we went out hunting. He even claimed I was better than him at times. Blowing out a breath, I look around the room I've lived in for so many years. It's not a room. It's only ever been my prison. Punishments and monthly torture sessions included.

I clench my hands, my body filling with rage. "Good-fucking-bye."

Without looking back, I rush to the wardrobe and to the secret opening. A girl stands there waiting for me when I push the dresses to the side, leaning on the wall. She's exactly the same height as me and I've seen her around, mostly tending to the gardens. She's not a priestess in training, but rather one of the servants. The girl Loch told me about. Aki, I think her name was. She nods once at me, her dark blonde hair bouncing.

"May Hekai be with you, princess. Some of our families still remember who you are, who your parents were, and support you. We pray for you and your rule. Forever the moon queen."

My heart swells and I can only nod in response as I admire her moment of rebellion. These are words that no one has dared utter to me in fear of being killed. To utter them now… it raises a fire within me. People still remember. I place a hand gently on her shoulder and smile at her before I slide through the secret exit. She's risking her life to help get me out of here. I will not forget it.

I hurry down the old stone corridors, my footsteps silent from years of perfecting my hunting skills. The priestesses usually leave me to ‘reflect' after my punishments, so Aki, will have at least a day or two to give us a head start. I smile to myself. This could work. This could actually work. I keep running down the dusty, cobweb hallways that always seem like they go on forever.

A breeze guides my way through the darkness, my footsteps echoing through every puddle that eventually leads me to the way out. I turn the corner and step out into the light. Fresh air blows over me, carrying the smell of freshly cut grass from the other side of the tunnel. The tunnel is old and forgotten, smothered in ivy and moss, and cobwebs that stick to my arms as I rush to the other side. The light hurts my eyes as I pause at the end of the tunnel and search around the courtyard, my heart racing. Loch waits for me in the shadows beneath a ruined archway only a few feet away, his dark cloak making him almost invisible. He turns when he spots me and opens his arms, a smile stretching over his lips. I glance around, making sure no one is here, before my feet take off. Running to Lochlan feels like running home. He pulls me into a hug and wraps his arms tightly around my shoulders. For a moment, I just enjoy our embrace, our closeness.

"We're really doing this!" I'm so excited that it's hard to keep my voice quiet.

His soft laugh vibrates down my ear. "I actually thought you were a boy for a moment, then."

I whack his arm, a flush blowing up my cheeks. "This isn't the time for jokes."

I really hope he doesn't think of me as a boy, even in these clothes.

He keeps his arm around my shoulders, careful not to touch my back. He knows what they did to me last night. "You're smiling and not panicking, so the joke worked."

It doesn't work for long. "Where's the cart?"

Loch turns me to the left. "See? It's over there." I follow his gaze and find the cart that he's talking about, full to the brim with wooden crates. Four black horses neigh impatiently as they wait while the driver loads the final crates. "When he's done, we will run and get in between the boxes. They won't see us. We can stay on the cart for the entire journey. This one's going all the way to the shore." He looks down at me and I smile at him, my heart fluttering. "No one will find us. No one will use you again."

He takes one of my shaking hands, linking our fingers slowly, and I enjoy the warmth of his touch as it tries to calm my racing heart. We wait in silence then and don't dare talk again in case someone hears us. Even though we paid the driver, we can never be too careful. Thankfully, everyone apart from the servants will be in prayer at this time in the morning. They pray to the goddesses as the sun rises until it's quite high up, which is at least half an hour away from now. The rest of the boxes are finally loaded, and the driver checks his scroll. He scratches his chin before walking to the front and climbing up onto his seat. When he starts whistling but doesn't drive away, we know he's waiting for us.

Loch glances at me and then leans down, bringing his lips so close it's like he's about to kiss me. He could be my first ever kiss. My heart soars and I almost close my eyes. His voice stops me. "Freedom, princess?"

"Freedom."

I breathe out the single word that means everything to me, and then we run.

I run as fast as my legs will carry me, holding my best friend's hand, our fingers interlocked. We climb onto the cart and duck behind the crates. Loch slides in first, going deeper towards the boxes on the left, and then I crawl to the other side. We smile at each other as the driver kicks off the cart and the horses begin to move.

The sound of their hooves hitting the ground is like music to my ears. My heart thumps with them, and I close my eyes, resting my head against the crate. Soon the air is filled with that delicious salty breeze I haven't smelled in over ten years. I've missed it. I open my eyes and lift my head just enough to peer over the crates. In the corner of my eye, Lochlan watches me with an intense stare, but I'm too mesmerised by the shore growing closer in the distance. The seagulls swooping down on a ship with emerald sails brings tears to my eyes.

I'm free. I'm finally free. I can't believe ? —

All of a sudden, the horses come to a halt and start neighing in panic. The driver tries to soothe them while something dark, something huge , covers us in darkness. Cold, gut-wrenching fear consumes me when nothing, but black and red scales spread out across the sky. Fire and roses. That familiar scent. The gold talons, stretching and gleaming in the light.

I've met this dragon before.

Once when I was a child, and then every night since in my nightmares.

The dragon lands on a hill by the shore and sends a gust of wind so powerful it nearly tips the cart. Its roar bursts through my ears, causing them to ring, and I let go of Loch to shield them from the onslaught. Loch looks at me with pure fear in his eyes and I feel it too. It's over.

We're dead.

Heavy footsteps crunch on the ground outside the cart, and they aren't from the terrified driver.

"Your majesty!" the driver exclaims. "Can I help?—"

"Get back in your seat!" I know that voice too. Sometimes I hear echoes of him in my mind, in my nightmares where dragon fire burns. "You can come out now, Princess. Your little escape is over." I don't respond as I grip the box next to me so hard my nails almost break. How did he know I was here? His footsteps pause by the cart. "I don't bite, but my dragon does. Get out."

Tears run down my cheeks—tears filled with the hope for a freedom I was so close to having again. The life I should've had. Loch goes to move, but I shake my head and put a finger to my lips. I will face this on my own and Loch can still be free.

I climb to my feet, glancing at Loch one more time. I'm sorry , he mouths to me, but I can't reply. I can't even feel my body as I climb out from the crates and jump down to face the Dragon King himself. My entire world seems to shatter at his feet when I land and look up at him. He's so much taller than I remember. His dragon is huge now, too, standing proudly behind him with its gold eyes on me. Despite the fear wracking havoc in my body, I lift my head to look its rider in the eye. His tanned skin has been made rough from his years of combat and dragon riding. But even the scars on his face do nothing to hinder how beautiful he is.

How regal and yet brutal.

He lifts his head and smirks down at me, his thick arms crossed over his powerful chest. As I look up into his scarred face, I hate how he looks as though he was sculpted by the gods themselves. Even the gold scar, running all the way from his left brow to his chin, looks like it was a kiss left by the gods themselves to bless this fucker. The king is absolutely gorgeous, even if I absolutely fucking hate him. Dark locks of wavy black hair blow in the breeze around his face, and the way the sun hits them makes it look like they have gold strands woven between the tresses. His eyes are perfect green emeralds, brighter than any of the jewels I saw as a child in the castle. I remember those eyes the most. They've haunted my every waking moment since that night. Slowly, he drags his eyes up and down my body, and his smirk widens.

"Very fitting attire for a princess. Where were you going?"

I wrap my hands into fists, cutting my palm with how tight I make them. "Anywhere you wouldn't find me, My King ."

He raises a brow ever so slightly at the way I spit out his title. He will never be my king. He lowers his thick arms, the black scaled leather that covers him from head to toe moving perfectly with his flawlessly toned body as he steps closer. I move back as far as I can, the smell of burning flowers suffocating my senses. He sighs as he rests his massive hands on the two swords clipped to his hips.

At least he's not wearing my father's blood-soaked crown this time.

The edge of his mouth twitches as he looks down at me. Despite the inevitability, despite that I should know I shouldn't do it, I turn away from him and run. My hat falls off in the breeze, allowing my long hair to flow behind me. His amused chuckle echoes behind me, far too close. I pull the dagger out just as he catches me, and the moment our bodies collide, I run the blade through his stomach.

At first his eyes widen, as if shocked, but then that smile appears again, and he smirks at me in amusement. I glance down and my own stomach sinks with realisation. The dagger didn't even touch him. It just bent against his armour. The whole dagger bent! What the fuck?

"You're a feisty little thing, aren't you?" He plucks the dagger right out of my hand, regarding the mark on the hilt with a sneer, before throwing it to the side. "I almost forgot who you are, Princess, with how fucking beautiful you are. Thank you for the reminder."

I'm shocked into silence at the compliment for a moment. No one has ever called me beautiful. He grabs me in my moment of shock and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. The other dagger slips out onto the floor, and he stands on the hilt, crushing it. Crushing my hope right along with it. "How many secret, forbidden weapons do you have? Do I need to check all of your boy clothes?"

"Let me go, you fucking crown stealing, murderous bastard!"

I scream, kicking and slamming my fists against his enormous body. His armour just causes me pain, and he knows it. He continues walking as if I'm merely a bug hovering around him, and then he laughs. If the sound belonged to anyone but him, I'd almost admit to liking it. "I prefer you to call me Erax, considering we will be married soon."

Over my dead body!

Erax takes me to the cart, throwing me onto the seat and grabbing the spare reins left on the floor of the cart. I scream and curse him as he easily manages to tie me up to the cart with the straps. No matter how I pull at them, I can't get myself lose. The fucker. Erax looks at the driver at my side, who looks ready to shit himself. "Drive her back and I'll be right above watching. If you want to avoid a painful, fiery death, I suggest you ride fast. The only reason you're not dead already is because her family was well known as manipulative traitors, and so far, it's clear she is just the same."

The driver stumbles. "Thank you, my king."

He looks at me once and winks before walking away to his dragon. The drive back is silent, and Loch doesn't dare move from where he is hidden or say a word. The driver doesn't either. Erax lands near the hellhole I just escaped from, and he comes right up to the cart, pulling me off and undoing the reins before throwing me right back over his shoulder. I kick and hit his back, but it's like hitting a wall. A wall that doesn't even flinch or stop.

The priestess and her acolytes come running out of the main entrance just as Erax reaches it. "I am so sorry, Your Majesty, she is—" Priestess Gabriella gasps. "You're bleeding! I will fetch the heal?—"

"No," he stops her. "I am taking the princess to gather her belongings. Return to your prayers, or whatever the fuck else you do here." As he barges past them, he says pointedly to Sister Gabriella, "If I were you, I'd pray the gods show mercy for losing my property, Gabriella, because I won't."

I continue kicking and screaming as he walks through them and the crowd of sisters and maids, who have gathered to see what is going on. Just before the king carries me through the door, I see the cart disappearing up the hill and through the gates, taking Loch far from me. Taking any chance of my freedom with him.

At least he got out. At least one of us has a future.

The entrance closes behind us, and I keep fighting. I keep kicking and punching him, even though it's like hitting a tree. He's too big, too strong for me to fight off, and that terrifies me more than any punishment the priestesses could make me endure. I knew the king would no longer be a boy, but a man. I never expected him to be this huge. He manages to find my room without any direction and kicks the door open, almost knocking it off the hinges, then throws me onto the bed. I swallow the wince as I land on my back on the clean sheets. The wounds have probably healed by now, but my body is still sore, as if she cut through my bones instead of flesh.

Erax stands in the doorway, blocking my escape. "Get dressed in clothes that don't smell like another male and pack a bag."

I climb off the bed and lift my chin. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He sighs as he walks towards me, his eyes darkening into slits. I keep stepping back until I press against the dresser. Erax leans down to place his hands at either side of me, and cages me in. Now that we're so close his scent doesn't just brush my senses. It invades them, like a fire set ablaze on a forest. I meet his gaze and hold it with my own fire, one built from pure hate. As if reading my thoughts, he chuckles again.

"Let's clear the air a little, shall we?" He closes what little distance we have between us, his lips so close to my face I can feel his breath on my cheeks. "You hate me, and I hate everything you are too. We'd very much like to kill each other. In fact, I'm willing to bet you're thinking about trying it again right now, aren't you?" I don't say anything, and he smirks. "Believe me when I say I want nothing more than to wrap my hands around that pretty little neck of yours and put an end to your line once and for all. But as king, I have a responsibility to the people of my kingdom, and I won't see you get in the way of that. This could be easy if you?—"

"What? Obey you like a good little princess bride?" My sarcastic laugh cuts him off. "You fucking slaughtered my parents! You wore my father's crown, covered in his blood, as you burnt down his kingdom, my home, and then you locked me in here with these monsters until I was old enough to be your wife. All that dragon fire must've burned your brains if you think I'll make any of this easy for you. I'll spend every day for the rest of my life trying to get away from you!"

He clicks his tongue, but his jaw tenses. "Royal marriages have been arranged in far worse conditions in our history. I don't give a fuck about you or what you want, but you will be my wife. So, get dressed and pack your fucking things."

I lift my chin despite its tremor. "Or what?"

He picks up a strand of my hair. "I don't like to be pushed, Princess Maelena. You're mine." He drops my hair. "As for escaping me, that will not happen. You don't know this about me yet, but when you try to disappear like mist, I will find you. I always find anything that is mine." He steps back. "I suggest you put on warmer clothes. We're going to be riding on my dragon, and it gets cold."

I glare up at him. I know in reality I don't have much of a choice but to go with him. He'll drag me to his dragon either way. I try to push the thought of riding on a dragon to the back of my mind. It would have been a dream of mine as a child who used to devour any book I could find about the dragons of old. Now it will be a nightmare come to life.

"I doubt the frilly princess gowns you sent me will be warm enough." I cross my arms, casting a glance at the open wardrobe. "Most of them are practically see through."

He follows my gaze to the many dresses hanging from the rail. My pulse spikes as I wonder if he knows my escape route is right behind those dresses. "I didn't send those." He turns back to me, a frown creasing his forehead for a moment. "I will wait outside. But don't push my kindness, Mist. My patience already wears thin."

"That isn't my name!" I shout at his back as he walks away from me and to the doors. He shuts them behind him, leaving me in complete silence. I look at the wardrobe, knowing I can try to run again, but it would be pointless. They would never let me go. Angrily, I wipe my tears away. A single thought fills my mind... I don't have to live through this. I could end it all as soon as there's a high enough window. Death is no stranger to me, and if this is the life I'm to lead, then I welcome it. But something screams at me not to kill myself, a voice that sounds so much like Lochlan.

Don't do it, Mae. Don't let him win.

But I also can't let him have me either, even if that means joining my parents in the afterlife. The eternal plains where all the fallen stars go to rest.

I look through the dresses, searching for the rags I've been wearing all these years. Someone must have cleared it out when they changed my bed. I scoff at that. They're trying to hide how they treated me, but Erax already knows if his threat is anything to go by. That was the first time I've ever seen Sister Gabriella afraid. I paint it in my memory, a wry grin sliding over my lips. Maybe I should stay alive long enough just to see her get what she deserves.

With none of my old clothes to choose from, I put on one of the long, very sheer, gold dresses and then wrap a gold cloak around my shoulders. I'm not getting dressed in warm clothes like he suggested. Finally, I braid my hair and step out in the long, stupid gold dress that was left for me. Erax looks me up and down, frowning at all the frills and lace of the dress.

"Really, Mist?"

I narrow my eyes. "That is not my name, Dragon King!"

"Erax," he reminds me, pulling his gaze away. "Or your darling, handsome king, if you're incapable of those three syllables."

Fuck. You.

My uncle steps forward from the side of the passageway, his face unusually pale. He doesn't pay the king any attention as he tries to approach me.

"Princess Maelena?—"

Erax holds out an arm to stop him. "Even if you are her uncle, she is not to be addressed as that. Anyone who speaks to her will use the title Her Majesty or Her Grace. As for her real name, it is reserved for me now."

I glare at him, my rage for him boiling to an even deeper level. "You can't?—"

"I'm the king," he says, turning to me with a smirk. "I can do whatever I want."

I step right up into his face. "One day I will find a way to stab you and make sure you bleed forever."

He glares back, and I shiver when his words roll over me.

"Keep making sweet promises like that, Mist, and I just might let you." He walks off like he expects me to follow, and when I don't, he waves me to him as though I'm his fucking dog. I look pleadingly at my uncle. He only nods his head after him, suggesting I get a move on with it, and a piece of me dies inside.

How is it possible to love someone so much and yet hate them for not helping you?

Without looking back at him, I follow in the king's wake. We soon enter the front courtyard, where his massive dragon awaits. The beast is just as impressive and terrifying as I remember as a child, only bigger. So much bigger.

"This is Cyrsí," Erax says, looking up at the beast. "The last of her line."

Like me , I think bitterly, as I follow him over. Thanks to you.

Cyrsí looks down and stares at me for several moments with her huge, unblinking gold eyes. I can't help but get the impression she is deciding if she wants to eat me or not. To my relief, she looks away, and I let out a long breath I wasn't aware I was holding on to. She lowers herself down for Erax and her saddle is the same colour as his eyes. Green. Except it's decorated with his royal crest—a crest I've seen before all over the monastery. Two dragons devouring each other, one of them breathing fire and the other roses. The irony never fails to make my stomach churn. Erax is the fire and I'm the roses, burnt to nothing. That's how it will always be between us.

As we near the saddle, he moves to my side and places a hand on my shoulder. "You'll need help to get on."

"Don't you touch me," I growl, yanking my arm from him. "I don't need your help."

"Because you've mounted dragons before?" he scoffs, crossing his arms. He steps back from me, though. "Go ahead then. I think I'm going to enjoy watching this."

That smirk that seems to permanently grace his face returns again, and I clench my jaw, refusing to give in to him. This is my chance to show him I'm not that weak little girl he met all those years ago. I'm a woman with revenge in her heart and blood on her lips. I decide to climb the side of the dragon by using her scales as steps. It's surely the only logical way to mount a dragon. Unfortunately, the dress doesn't help make things any easier, and I hate that the king might be right as I slip and repeatedly. But I don't give up. I keep on climbing, feeling her heart beating beneath her scales. They're as firm as steel and yet so warm beneath my palm. I always thought dragon scales would feel as cold as ice.

After many attempts, I finally reach the top of her and carefully lower myself down onto her saddle. Erax effortlessly climbs up in a fraction of the time it took me. However, he says nothing as he slides behind me and grabs the reins, pulling them tight. My heart races as I hold on to the front of the saddle, our bodies pressed too close together. Dangerously close.

" Nivaross ." Erax's deep voice caresses the back of my neck.

I turn to meet his eyes, which are already fixed on me. "What does that mean?"

He leans into my space until we're a breath away. "It means fly."

Then the dragon takes off, jumping into the clear blue sky, and all I can do is scream.