Page 120 of Courting the Dragon Prince

Onyx knocked Luther’s hands away with a growl. He shoved Luther back.

But Luther wasn’t done. He pulled his arm back and punched Onyx in the gut. Onyx bent over, crying out in pain.

“They didn’t deserve to die! They deserved so much better!” Luther yelled. “It should have been me who died. It should have been me. It?—”

Onyx straightened and punched Luther in the face.

Luther’s head snapped back as pain exploded across his cheek. But before he had time to recover, Onyx punched him in the chest.

Luther stumbled backwards, crying out in pain as he collapsed onto his knees. He clutched at his ribs.

They stared at each other, breathing heavily.

Only two steps separated them. But they stood a world apart.

“Your people started this war,” Onyx spat. “Your people invaded us because they wanted more land. It’s your fault anyone is dead! It’s your fault my sister is dead.”

The earth beneath Luther trembled. Around them, rocks floated into the air. Luther stared at Onyx. Was he doing this? Was he about to attack Luther?

With a groan, Luther stood, trying to find his strength, preparing to shift and fight.

“I almost forgot what you were.” Onyx sneered. “A dragon. A monstrous, bloodthirsty beast who started a war that tore our kingdoms apart. And for what?” he yelled. “Nothing but your people’s never-ending greed.”

Luther swallowed, trying to ignore Onyx’s words. And the truth of them.

Because it had been his grandmother who started the war. And even after she’d died, his family continued it. Luther had fought in the war even though he’d believed his people were in the wrong.

“Stop!” a voice screamed.

Luther cried out as hundreds of flaying stings pricked across his whole body. Something tore at his skin and clothes. He yelled out in shock, closing his eyes and covering his face, trying to protect himself.

He heard Onyx call out in pain too.

“Warden Onyx! Prince Luther! You must stop this behaviour now!” a familiar voice cried.

All of a sudden, the pinpricks of pain stopped. Luther opened his eyes. On the ground, tiny bits of gravel lay scattered around the temple floor.

Panting, Lady Larimar strode up the stairs towards them, her face set with steely determination. Luther could see others peeking through windows, watching him and Onyx. His gaze stopped on one window, where Warden Flint stood, watching them with a stony expression.

Luther turned to Onyx. Tiny red cuts covered his face, neck, and hands. The gravel had torn his clothing. Blood peeked through the tears in the fabric.

Luther glanced down at his hands to see them covered in tiny cuts. He reached out with a trembling hand and pulled at a bit of stone that had gotten stuck in his skin. He dropped it to the ground, watching the wound bleed.

“What by the powers of the mighty mountain spirits is going on?” Lady Larimar shouted as she glared between them.

Onyx opened his mouth. He closed it. He glanced at Luther.

Then he turned on his heels and strode away.

“Warden Onyx!” Lady Larimar called out.

But Onyx didn’t look back as he walked down the stairs and left the temple.

Luther collapsed to the ground. He touched a hand to the cheek where Onyx had punched him. He hissed and dropped his hand.

For several moments, Luther stared at the granite pillar in front of him, letting the misery wash over him. Lady Larimar spoke. But Luther wasn’t listening.

It seemed like he and Onyx would not get the happy, loving marriage after all.