Page 137 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

I stared down at the water below, the endless expanse churning with white foam. “I just need to catch my breath,” I said softly.

He didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his chin almost brushing my shoulder.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he murmured. “Carrying everything on your own.”

I huffed a bitter laugh. “I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

“I know,” he said, voice tight. “But you don’t have to anymore.”

I turned to face him, only to realize how close he was—his face inches from mine, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my pulse stumble. His gaze flicked to my mouth for the briefest second before he looked away.

“Just… let it go for a while,” Zander said. “The world will still be waiting when we get back.”

I wasn’t sure I knew how to let go. But as Hein dipped low, sweeping just above the waves, I closed my eyes and let the salty air fill my lungs.

For just a moment, I allowed myself to believe I was free.

The island was massive, far larger than I’d imagined. We’d landed in a clearing near the coastline, the salty tang of the sea still lingering in the air. Beyond the rocky shore, a dense forest stretched into the distance, a wall of emerald that swallowed the land beyond. The air smelled fresher here, untouched by the smoke and sweat of the castle grounds.

Zander swung down from Hein’s back, then reached for my hand. His fingers laced through mine, and for a moment, I let myself feel the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Come on,” he said, leading me toward a fallen log near the edge of the clearing. He motioned for me to sit, and I sank down, suddenly grateful for the break. My body still ached from the trial—my ribs felt bruised, my muscles sore and tight.

I watched as Hein wandered lazily toward the forest. His wings stretched once, shaking loose bits of dust and dirt, before he began meandering through the trees.

“Where’s he going?” I asked.

“Probably to grab a snack,” Zander said. “There are several types of deer on the isle.”

“I’m surprised they don’t decimate them,” I murmured.

Zander shrugged. “Dragons only hunt when they need to. At least, once they’re adults. I’m told the hatchling lands are pretty barren since young dragons haven’t learned to control their instincts.”

I smirked. “Sounds like some of the cadets I’ve seen in sparring matches.”

Zander huffed a laugh. “Not far off.”

“Hein teaches you a lot,” I said, watching the silver dragon disappear into the trees.

“Royals are trained in dragon lore from the time they can walk,” Zander said. “Most of the males end up as dragon riders.”

“That must be nice,” I said, the bitterness slipping out before I could stop it. “It’s better than learning to steal or kill.”

Zander’s gaze shifted to the horizon, his expression darkening.

“We learn those things too,” he said quietly.

I turned to him, studying his profile. The sharp angle of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders—whatever memories he was lost in, they were dark ones.

“I guess being a prince isn’t all comfort and privilege,” I said.

His lips twitched in a bitter smile. “No. It’s not.”

Zander’s gaze locked on mine, something intense simmering beneath the surface. His eyes flicked lower, tracing the curve of my lips, and I felt my breath falter.

“Being a prince places a certain expectation on any royal,” he said quietly. His voice was softer now, lower. “We have the finest clothes and never miss a meal, but we pay for it in other ways.”

“You mean because you’re all supposed to serve the dragons?” I asked. “That they’re your first priority?”