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The boy jumped on behind Wren, having no qualms about wrapping his arms around her waist to secure himself.

Wren glanced behind her. “How well can you hold your breath?”

A pause. “Hopefully well enough not to die from this.”

The boy’s cell door swung open and the prince strode through it. His livid gaze locked on her. “Don’t make me your enemy.”

“You have always been my enemy,” she whispered.

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other.” His ice blue eyes narrowed. “I will hunt you.”

“You can try,” she retorted as the dragon slid forward once more.

The prince smiled. “You know I love challenges, Wren. I’ll be seeing you soon, my queen.”

A shiver ran down her spine. It wasn’t so much a threat but a promise.

“Take a deep breath,” she commanded the boy.

A quick kick to the dragon’s side, and the three of them dived into the murky water. The last thing Wren heard as they disappeared under the surface was Arrik calling for the guards.

The boy tightened his grip around Wren’s waist so hard it hurt. He was clearly terrified for his life and unsure whether he truly could hold his breath for as long as was needed to survive.Please let us make it.

Wren realized half a minute later that she herself had not taken perhaps as big of a breath as she should have before diving into the freezing water, though there was little she could do about that now. No, all she could do was cling to the dragon just as the boy was clinging to her and hope to still be alive when the dragon finally chose to resurface.

Hopefully far away from the palace.

The dragon hurtled through the water at frightening speeds.He might even be as fast as Aurora had been.She could sense it more clearly now that she’d touched him, instinct telling her that she was right. There was some comfort to Wren that the dragon was male whereas Aurora had been female—to ride a female dragon after what happened to her felt wrong, somehow.

Wren was growing light-headed. She didn’t want to imagine how the boy behind her was faring. But his grip on her waist hadn’t loosened all the way yet, so Wren had no choice but to assume he was still at least semi-conscious.

Just as her lungs began to burn for air, the dragon abruptly changed course and jolted upright, swimming straight as an arrow until Wren could see traces of moonlight upon the surface of the sea.

And not a moment too soon.

She gripped the boy’s arm with her left hand to stop him from slipping off.

And then, a moment later, the dragon broke through the surface, and Wren heaved in as much air as her lungs could carry. She took in some water, too, the salt of it stinging her throat and making her sputter and spit as the dragon snaked along to a small, wooden pier. When he got there, Wren tumbled off his back and onto the pier, taking the boy with her. She extricated his arms from her waist and turned to check on him, relieved to see he was breathing.

“Open your eyes,” she whispered to him, not knowing who might be around to hear them. “We’re alive and breathing.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he coughed, but then he struggled into a sitting position, and Wren knew he would be all right.

She rolled onto her knees and faced the dragon, holding her hand out to his snout before whistling a thank you. “You are a true treasure trove,” she told him, meaning every word. For what was treasure if not freedom and life? The dragon had granted both back to Wren—and her unlikely companion.

With this, the dragon slipped beneath the surface of the sea, his scales glowing faintly before he disappeared from sight entirely. Wren watched him go while her skin turned clammy, then wiped a hand across her brow when she realized she was sweating.How…?she wondered, before taking note of just how hot the Verlantian evening’s air was. Locked up underground in the dungeon, the air had been frigid; Wren had completely forgotten that it was, in fact, the height of summer.

Wren adjusted the gold clasps of her now ruined emerald dress. Against all likelihood, she hadn’t lost the crown. It was now knotted in her long hair.

Time to work out where they were.

Scanning the darkness, Wren spied a cluster of houses a little way past the pier. Another pier lay in front of her on the water, also with houses at its end, then another and another.

A trading port?

“Wow, that dragon got us all the way to the international market,” the boy murmured, clearly impressed. He touched a hand to Wren’s shoulder. “I know of a place we can hide and recover.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Youknow a place? How?”