Page 68 of Destined Dawn

“What’s wrong, Piglet?” he asks, sensing my sadness through the bond.

“Do you ever think about how things could have turned out if they’d gone differently?”

“You mean with your dad? You mean between your parents?”

“No, between us.”

He stops. “Every fucking minute of every day, Piglet.”

I look into those deeply green eyes of his and feel his sincerity, feel it deep inside me. I want to say more to him, but my dad’s hand lands on his shoulder and he’s being pulled away. I’m alone again, watching as the Black Prince demands his attention.

My mind’s a mess of emotions.

Because he’s right.

What if my mom had never taken me away? What if she stayed here with him? What if my aunt had never hidden me? What if he’d found me?

Is this what my life would have been like? Luxury. Beautiful dresses and gourmet food, servants and subjects and living in a palace.

I think of all those days of suffering, of fighting to stay alive, scrapping for food, racing to outrun those who wanted to harm us.

It could have been so different. All so different.

My head spins even more and that feeling crawls up my throat again so fast I can’t breathe.

I push my way through the tight-knit group of dancers, through the people gathered at the edges, past guards andservers with their bowed heads, out to the corridor and then on and on, going on instinct, crashing through the first door I find and then out into the night, the air cool and hitting my lungs with such relief I almost stumble to my knees.

The garden is quiet and still – blessed relief – except for one lone dragon – a golden-red one circling above.

26

Spencer

The ballroom is huge,but any room feels like imprisonment. No matter how big, the walls creep in on me and I’m scratching to get out. The thick throng of people only makes it worse, hot bodies pressing in on me from every direction.

Soon, I can’t bear it anymore. But I have to for her, even if every bone in my body screams for space, for freedom, for relief. I grit my teeth and I endure it.

But then I see her slipping away unseen and so I follow her, her own personal protective shadow. I trail her out of the ballroom, along corridors and out into the cold garden, the frigid air like a slap to the face.

I find her peering up at the sky, wrapped in a blanket she wasn’t wearing before. The heavy clouds have cleared and high up among the pinprick stars a shadow is circling.

“I think she’s watching over me,” she says.

“That’s pretty awesome,” I tell her, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

“And sort of terrifying too,” she says, catching me shivering and offering me a corner of her blanket. “I found it slung over one of the garden chairs.” I step in closer, so close our arms are touching, and wrap the blanket around us both. “I mean, what am I meant to do with a dragon?”

“Ride it, according to Barone.”

She grins. “Did you dragon-travel better than the broom?”

So she noticed that, huh?

“I don’t think that broom was designed for someone my size.”

“You are pretty big,” she says.

So she noticed that too.