Chapter 15

Alistair watched as Lenora left his cave, escorted by half a dozen human knights.

His first instinct was to swoop in, light them all on fire, and inform his little human exactly what he thought of her attempt to escape.

It was a dragon's instinct, after all. To keep what was part of his hoard.

But that was the trouble. He had come to learn Lenora was not a thing he could own. She was her own person. She was his equal. If he wanted her, he had to make her want to stay, to smile at him, to tease him, to laugh with him. And he had tried. He had tried so damn hard these past few months to give her everything he could imagine that might make her like him enough to accept him.

But it had not been enough. When he had left, in search of a new novel she might read curled up in his lap, along with other staples such as confections that made her sigh and cured meats for Morthil, she had taken the opportunity to leave.

It was agony to watch her go. But if she wanted to leave him after all of this, then she would never be his.

She might be his twin flame, but he was nothing to her. The realization was agony. He faltered in the air, for the first time in centuries, as sadness stabbed at his chest.

If she wished to go, he would allow it. Even if it broke him.

And that decision nearly felled him, until a new sensation impaled him.

In the months since he had become in tune with his twin flames's emotions, seldom had they soured. At most, she grew a bit piqued if he prolonged his teasing without letting her fully enjoy herself.

But he recognized it on instinct.

Sorrow. Distress.

And in answer, Alistair grew furious.

How dare they?

How dare they cause his Lenora distress?

He descended on them in a matter of seconds. The horses startled at his arrival, the knights struggling to control the horses as they reeled. Only the one that held Lenora was steady, a massive war beast that was likely so inbred it didn't even have the instincts to look afraid.

Much like its rider, the prince.

Alistair met Lenora's gaze. Her eyes glistened, tear tracks highlighting her full cheeks. She couldn't even wipe them away with her hands tied together. The anger that rolled off Alistair should have terrified even her, for he knew he was a fearsome creature to behold. But she did not cower. Instead, her stiff shoulders relaxed at his arrival. The sorrow that stabbed in his heart began to ease.

"Stay back, you foul beast! I command you, as Prince of these fair lands," the male atop the stupid war beast called out.

His reptilian gaze slid to the prince's hands, which held Lenora's bound body between them. A blade was in the foolish boy's right hand, primed not to attack Alistair… but to threaten Lenora.

The knights fanned out in front of their leader as they regained control of their horses.

A foolish effort.

"You have terrorized this land for far too long, robbing it of its riches. Now, you go too far and take its fine maidens? I tell you, she would rather die than be captured again by you."

The prince was already dead. That had not been in question. But for threatening his Lenora… oh, it would be the hottest flame that eradicated the brat.

Though Alistair was loath to speak to humans—twice in a century (his future bride not included) was too often already—he would not be able to get to her before the prince slashed her throat in a fit of madness with all those knights in his way.

"Very well. If I have taken all your wealth, you may have it back. Send your knights to my cave, and at the heart of the mountain, you shall find my hoard. You can have it all back if you let the woman go."

The prince gripped her tighter, using her body as a shield. Coward.

"You lie."

Alistair roared. "Do not question my word, weakling. If all you seek is treasure, then it shall be yours."

Greed lit in the prince's eyes.

"Don't," Lenora pleaded. "It's not worth it. If you lose your hoard—" She cut herself off to stop from revealing secrets, but she knew, as Alistair had told her, his strength was tied to his hoard.

But he would be penniless sooner than he would let someone take his Lenora against her will.

The prince bid his guards to go to the mountain and get all the gold they could carry, but he did not relax his grip on Lenora.

The knights rode away. It was just the three of them now. The prince blustered and blustered. Alistair ignored it, the entire time his gaze fixed on the small female held captive.

The knife gradually loosened as the prince grew tired. It would take the knights time to reach Alistair's mountain.

Minutes ticked by.

And then, when even the birds had quieted, while the three stared at each other in the clearing, a terrifying sound came. A roar so loud, even Alistair nearly flinched.

The prince jerked back in surprise, his horse startling. But Lenora was sharp, and took the chance to jerk her shoulder into the prince, further knocking him off balance. The action made her fall from the horse, her tied hands making it impossible to break her fall.

Alistair caught her in his claws before she ever hit the ground.

And then, because he was altogether furious with the prince, he snapped his neck out and ate him, armor, sword, and all.