Page 22 of Song of the Heart Scale (The Dragon’s Ballad #3)

I sighed. “I asked Damien to come back to my world with me. I guess he told his uncle, who just told me he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. He warned of potential consequences. And boy, did he give me some good reasons, Maeve. I could legit ruin Damien’s life.”

Maeve bit her lip. “That’s a difficult predicament, my lady. I’m sorry I can’t be of much help.”

“It’s all good,” I grumbled.

After the bath, Maeve helped me dry off and slipped one of my dresses over my head—a blue one embroidered with silver thread. It fit better than I remembered, like armor masquerading as elegance.

“Do you want me to braid your hair?” she asked, holding up a brush.

“Nah. Leave it down. Let’s not pretend I’m trying to impress anyone today.”

She brushed it anyway, using long, careful strokes that soothed my jagged nerves. When she finished, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the young woman staring back at me.

She looked like someone who had survived.

I straightened. “Alright. Time to stop moping. Let’s go wake the dragon.”

Maeve blinked. “You mean—?”

“Yeah. Damien. Time to tell him what his uncle just dropped on me like a magical nuke. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll need more than luck, my lady,” Maeve said with a knowing smile. “You’ll need honesty.”

And maybe for the first time since landing in this world, I wasn’t afraid of giving it.

I padded back through the hushed hallways of Royal Prince Bai’s estate, my damp curls brushing the nape of my neck and the blue gown swishing around my ankles.

The fabric hugged me in all the right places and made me feel like I belonged in a castle—even if I was secretly a woman from the twenty-first-century masquerading as a noble dragon bride-to-be.

I wasn’t ready for this conversation with Damien, but avoiding it wouldn’t make the unease go away. Besides, I’d survived worse. Like waking up in a medieval fantasy land and pretending to be a woman I’d never met. Easy peasy.

The door to our room was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and stepped inside.

Damien stood near the hearth, pulling a clean tunic over his head.

My gaze lingered on his skin unapologetically as the shadows cast by the sunlight streaming through the window traced along the ridges of his muscular back before the fabric covered them.

Surely a night of wild, unrelenting passion had earned me at least a few seconds of ogling rights.

When he turned and saw me, his shoulders visibly relaxed. “By the Immortals,” he exhaled, striding toward me. “Where did you go?”

I arched a brow. “Good morning to you, too.”

He stopped just shy of reaching me, hands twitching like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure if he should. “I woke up and you were gone. For a moment, I thought—”

“That I’d jumped ship back to my world without saying goodbye?” I teased, offering a smirk even though we both knew I couldn’t leave. “Rude. I’d at least leave you a Post-it note.”

He frowned. “A... what?”

I waved him off. “Never mind. Just know it would've been heartfelt. Maybe even punctuated with glitter.”

He gave a low chuckle and the tension in his brow eased. I closed the gap between us and reached for his vest and helped him slip it on, securing the clasps and tugging them into place. His gaze softened as I worked and he lightly brushed his fingers over my wrists.

“I was just roaming the estate,” I said. “Ran into your uncle. Had some tea. You know, girl talk.”

“Girl talk? With my uncle?”

I shrugged. “He’s surprisingly good at it. Stoic, sure, but the man knows how to pour a cup of hibiscus.”

His mouth curved in amusement. “What did you two talk about?”

I hesitated. Not because I was afraid of him knowing, but because I still wasn’t sure how to say it.

“He told me you told him. About me. Who I really am.”

Damien’s jaw flexed. “I wasn’t going to lie to him.”

“I’m not mad. It’s probably time someone else in this world got the full picture.”

He reached for my hand and gently held it between his. “He didn’t threaten you, did he?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” I glanced down at our entwined fingers. “But he did have opinions. Strong ones.”

Damien sighed and brushed his thumb along my knuckles. “Of course he did.”

I took a breath. “He thinks I should go home alone. He warned me that this world is too dangerous for me, but that you belong here.”

Damien was quiet for a beat as his dark eyes searched mine. “And what do you think?”

I blinked. “I asked you first.”

A slow smile tugged at his mouth, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Honestly? I haven’t had the luxury of thinking about it. Between Thorne, the council, and the emperor’s death... the idea of leaving Elaria seems like something out of a dream.”

“You mean a nightmare?” I muttered.

He didn’t answer that.

“Would you come with me?” I asked softly. Even though he already said he would, I had to ask again. I had a feeling that initial answer was null and void.

His gaze lifted to mine. “To your world?”

“Yeah. We’ve got running water, indoor plumbing, and music that doesn’t require a troupe of drunk men with flutes, for starters.”

He gave a quiet laugh.

“Also, pizza.”

His brow furrowed. “What’s a pizza?”

I grinned. “Only the single greatest food ever invented. You’ll understand once you have it.”

He sobered again, but didn’t respond.

I took a step closer. “He said some things I hadn’t thought about. Like what might happen if you left. Would your powers work there? Would you still be able to shift into a dragon? And if not... would you be okay with that? Could you live a human life?”

His brows furrowed and his lips slightly parted. Clearly, he hadn’t considered any of those things, either.

“And even if you could,” I continued, my voice soft, “would you want to live an immortal life in a world where I’m just... human? Where I’ll die, and you’ll be stuck there with nothing but memories?”

Damien reached out and took my face in his hands. “Cat.”

“I’m not saying it changes how I feel,” I rushed to add. “But it complicates things. I thought I was the only one taking a risk. I never stopped to consider what it might cost you .”

His thumb brushed my cheekbone. “Then we figure it out. Together.”

I met his dark-eyed gaze. “Even if that means saying goodbye to everything you’ve ever known?”

He returned my stare unflinchingly. “If it means waking up next to you instead of a cold pillow, then yes.”

My breath hitched. I reached for his wrists and held them, grounding myself in his touch. “Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay,” he echoed.

Truthfully, I still wasn’t convinced. I couldn’t do this to him. I wasn’t heartless enough to turn his world upside down. But I didn’t say anything. I just agreed and stepped into his arms as he embraced me, allowing the warmth of his touch to banish my tumultuous thoughts, if only for a moment.