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Raelan

WHEN THE CART DRAWS TO a halt, I know we’ve reached Old Serpent Road. It is here that the forces who’ve accompanied us will fall back, taking defensive positions within the forest to await the king’s return. From here onward, it will just be the two of us—like the Veiled Hand demanded.

I’m bound and locked in the back of the enclosed wagon. There are no windows, no moonlight. All is darkness.

And I am fighting with every breath to remain calm.

But all I can think is that I’m the one who left Alina there, who rode away and didn’t even bother to turn around as she screamed my name. The kidnappers acted as soon as I was out of the picture, as soon as they could steal her away beneath the cover of night.

They will regret it. I will not falter.

When I was being bound in chains and loaded into the back of the wagon, I paused to tell the king one thing .

“No matter what happens to me,” I said as the padlock was secured about my chest, “ensure Alina is safe.”

And though his eyes were troubled, he said, “We will. I promise you.”

I believed him. He’ll keep his promise.

I shift on the hard bench, making the metal around me sway and clink. The chains are not because I plan to fight back—they are another of the Veiled Hand’s demands, sent after the original correspondence was received. There’s a cloth wrapped around my eyes as well, blinding me to the world.

But I have my hearing, my sense of smell, the instincts that guide me even when my dragon is held at bay.

If the Veiled Hand thinks these chains and a flimsy blindfold will stop me, they’re wrong. The only thing that will stop me is the charmed chain about my neck.

The king tried to remove it, saying I’d need my powers, but I refused. My blood is already boiling, and the links burn my skin. If not for this magic, I’d have already torn free of these chains and the wagon I’m being carried in, and I’d be headed for the meeting location with every intention of decimating the people who dared lay a finger on Alina.

But to do so would be to endanger her, and I refuse to do that again. The chain must remain around my neck.

At least until she’s safe.

Then I will fight it with everything I have.

OLD SERPENT ROAD IS LONG and winding, and given how rough the going is, I imagine it is not often traveled. I’m jostled about, but the heavy chains weigh me down, grounding me.

For it is almost time.

I can feel Alina at the edges of my perception. My magic yearns for her, reaches out with stretching fingers, tries with all its might to grasp her and pull her in. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to banish my thoughts of her.

To think of her now will only make me emotional, and I need to be cold, focused, calculated. I need her safe . Apart from that, my desires cannot get in the way.

Despite being locked inside this creaking wooden box, I detect sounds in the nearby trees: arrows being nocked, boots rustling the fallen leaves, low whispers being exchanged. Without my sight, my other dragon senses are heightened.

But no one makes a move toward us. I imagine they’re lying in wait, ensuring the king and I came alone, as the first letter demanded.

His Majesty would hear none of it when Sir Larsen argued against the two of us coming alone. With Alina’s life on the line, the king was unwilling to budge. And I’m left hoping it was the right decision.

To kidnap the princess is nefarious enough, but to kill the king would drag the Veiled Hand into a battle they would never, ever win. If their reputation and the whispers surrounding their organization are to be believed, they are not unintelligent, and they will not start a war they cannot win.

And besides, they don’t want Alina, or even the king.

It’s me they want. But for what purpose—and client—I can only guess.

For ten years, I kept my dragon a secret from everyone except my mother and the king. No one knew the truth of what lurked beneath my skin. I was always careful, always hid myself in darkness when I would take those rare delicious flights over the untamed wilderness outside of Wysteria.

But Alina changed all of that. She freed my beast, allowed me to feel the rain on my scales and taste the never-ending expanse of the sky.

A burning realization takes root in my mind.

Someone must’ve seen me that night. The rain and fog shielded me from many of Coven Crest’s windows, but someone had to have been there to see me change.

A student? A faculty member?

Anger and shame rise inside me.

This is my fault. If only I’d been able to control myself, no one would’ve discovered my secret. And Alina would be safe. She’s in this situation because of me.

Up on the driver’s bench, the king clears his throat. That’s the signal to tell me we’re approaching the meeting place.

I draw a long breath, fighting the heat burning through my veins. I calm myself, banishing my emotions, focusing only on the task at hand. And when I let out that breath, I’m ready .

The wagon creaks to a halt. Outside, words are exchanged in low voices.

“Hail, traveler,” says an unfamiliar man. “What brings you down the Serpent?”

“My mule came this way,” the king says, using the code the Hand set out for him in the second letter of correspondence. “You haven’t seen her, by chance?”

There are mumbled words and the shifting of boots and cloaks.

“We have. Come with us,” the same man says.

Then the wagon is moving again, but this time, footsteps accompany the creaking wheels and the crunching of leaves on the path.

We continue on in this way for five minutes, and then the wagon turns, likely onto another side road.

“Stop here!” the man calls.

The wagon stops.

I’m still calm, still collected. I will not do anything that will put Alina in danger. I will not compromise this exchange.

“Your Majesty,” says a new voice, this one female. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

I can’t tell if her tone is derisive or not.

The king doesn’t bother with niceties. “Where is my granddaughter?”

The female lets out a low laugh. “She’s fine, good king. And you will see her as soon as we see our package.”

Package?

Inside, my dragon snarls. I calm it just in time for the wagon door to swing open .

Cold night air rushes in, scented with leaf matter and rich soil and the hint of an approaching rainstorm. Mixed with these smells are the scents of the people who must be standing at the open doors, looking in at me.

“You!” the female voice calls. “Come here.”

Boots thump over soft dirt, and then a familiar smell hits me. Immediately, I growl.

Tristan.

It was him. I should’ve know.

“Is this the shifter?” the female asks.

“Yeah,” Tristan says, and just the sound of his voice draws claws down my spine. “That’s him.”

I knew all along something was off about him, but I let my bond with Alina get in the way of my instincts, which have screamed at me all semester to be wary of Tristan, to keep him well away from her.

Now I know why. And it’s yet another thing I’ll berate myself for in the quiet hours of the night, assuming I get through this encounter alive.

In centuries past, dragon shifters were hunted almost to extinction. It’s why there are so few of us now—and why the king chose to hide my secret, even from his own men, his own family . We are both feared and desired, wanted alive just as often as we’re wanted dead.

And depending on who hired the Hand to obtain me, I may very well not live to see the light of day.

As long as she’s okay.

“His name?”

There’s a brief pause. Then Tristan says, “Raelan Ashvale.”

“Keep my name off your vile tongue,” I snarl .

A ripple of tension moves through the air. The female lets out a low chuckle.

“A dragon shifter. Never thought I’d see one.” There’s an air of reverence to her voice, even as I sit chained and blindfolded. “Get up, Ashvale. Let’s go.”

I remind myself, probably for the hundredth time, that all of this is for Alina. I will not endanger her. I will comply.

As I push to my feet, the chains binding my arms to my sides clink heavily. Every step I take is weighed down, and my boots thud across the wagon floorboards. As I step up to the edge of the open doors, someone reaches up to take my elbow, trying to steady me, but I shake them off with a barely restrained growl.

In one smooth movement, I jump from the wagon, vision still obscured, and land with a grunt, the chains trying to drag me down. But I don’t let them. I stand tall and square my shoulders. All around me, whispers are exchanged.

“Now I will see my granddaughter,” the king says from off to my right.

“Of course, good king. A deal is a deal.” The woman lets out a low whistle. “Bring him.”

Something prods me in the side, and I’m sent walking through the darkness, using scent and sound to guide my way. I’m in only a tunic and trousers, no cloak, but my anger and my dragon heat me up from the inside, keeping me warm despite the crisp autumn air.

We walk a short distance, then the woman calls, “Stop here. You two, get her.”

Her. Alina .

My dragon coils, its magic reaching for her.

Boots hurriedly move away. I can still smell Tristan, and I imagine what I’ll do to him once Alina is safe. If I have anything to say about it, he will not live to see another sunrise.

No one betrays her and gets away with it.

On a brush of wind, Alina’s scent hits me. I jerk upright, the chains clinking. She smells like herself, delicious and intoxicating, but with a tinge of fear.

If they’ve hurt her, I—

“As promised,” the woman says. “We will exchange her for your dragon.”

“ What? ” Alina snaps. “What’s going on?”

She’s so near, every cell in my body urges me to run to her, to hold her close, to wrap her in my arms and carry her far, far away, to a place where no one will ever find us.

“Give her to the king. But leave her shackles on,” the woman says.

“No!” There’s the sound of a struggle. “Grandfather, you can’t do this!”

“Alina, come,” he says, voice low, calm.

“No!” she yells. “Raelan!”

There’s such pain in her voice that it makes my chain burn white-hot. I say nothing, focusing all my attention on not losing control of myself and my dragon. I just need her out of here, and then I will do everything in my power to—

Boots scuffle over the dirt, and someone gasps. Then feet thump across the leaves, and a moment later, Alina is throwing herself against me, her head nestled upon my chest despite the chains wrapped around my body.

I would know the feel of her anywhere, even without my sight.

“Raelan,” she whispers, her body trembling against mine, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

“Go,” I tell her, with no uncertainty in my tone. “Get to safety. I’ll be fine.”

“But—hey! Let go of me! I said let go !”

Alina is dragged away, and by the sounds of it, she’s fighting them all the way.

“Go, Your Highness,” I say, louder this time. “It’s the only way.”

Her grandfather mumbles to her, trying to calm her, but I can still hear the struggle he and the others have to get her into the wagon.

I need them to get her out of here. My dragon is roiling now, rising to fight. It wants her. It wants to kill anyone who dared touch her. It wants to thrash and rage and leave destruction in its path.

Not yet. Not yet.

I clench my fists and jaw, fighting my beast, feeling the scald of metal against my throat.

Not yet.

“Raelan!” Alina calls out one final time. But the wagon is already moving, the wheels creaking, and I turn a deaf ear to her cries until they drift away on the wind.

Because this is the only way. Even if it’s tearing me apart.

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, her scent starts to disperse, and I can breathe deeply again without fear of getting drunk on her smell. Now I am in the dark, with midnight wrapped around me and the Veiled Hand at my sides.

“Get him loaded up,” the woman says. “And secure him fully. We can’t take any chances. We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Hands grab my arms and force me forward. My dragon snaps and snarls. It wants to take their hands off, to remove their limbs from their bodies and delight in the violence.

But not yet. Alina is still too close. I need to give her time to get away from here.

Time to get away from me .

I’m dragged forward and loaded into another enclosed wagon, this time with more chains binding me to the bench I’m seated upon. A set of shackles is clamped tight around my ankles.

The door slams and locks. In the quiet, I take a breath.

Soon. Soon, I will fight back with everything I have.

They wanted a dragon, and they got one.

Now they will feel a dragon’s wrath, and they will regret ever having set a finger upon Alina Ravenscroft. I’ll make sure of it even if it’s the last thing I do.