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CHAPTER NINETEEN

A urie berated himself the entire flight home.

He was furious with her father and that awful man who had sent the wolves after her. No normal wolf would act like that, especially not after he’d spewed a good amount of distraction magic at them. They clearly had a spell cast upon them, forcing them to remain and complete their mission of finding her despite their terror.

He thanked the Great Creator he had finally come to his senses after the hurt and shock of her accusation so he could arrive in time. Otherwise, her father might even now be forcing her into marriage with that horrible man for his own gain. Aurie refused to allow that to happen. He hadn’t brought her here only for her to be sent right back to her appalling circumstances.

Except, how could he convince her to stay now? After the truth she had seen, how could she ever forgive him? She had run for a reason.

Her words from earlier that day came back to him: “No one truly deserves forgiveness, and yet the Great Creator offers it freely… I choose to let go, not because they deserve it, but because I deserve peace.” Would she truly forgive him? He could only hope so, as he landed on the ground with far less grace than usual, careful to avoid the gilded plants in front of Everrose as the wound on his wing stung painfully.

“Dragon!” Melora slid off his back, her gentle hands running over his scales. “You’re hurt.”

I’ll be fine, he grumbled. Trying to shake off the pain.

“Dragon! Now is not a time to be strong and gallant. You were just attacked by about ten wolves all at once—and you heroically defended me! But there are injuries all over you, so stop whining and come inside where we can get you some help.”

I don’t need help, he groused, allowing her to lead him inside. What about you? Did they hurt you before I arrived? I apologize. There was no time to assess your wounds. I should have come sooner. He twisted his head to peer at her.

Her hair was in disarray, the silky strands half up and half down, falling unevenly about her face. Minor scrapes marred her arms, along with streaks of dirt staining both her skin and her dress. Then he noticed her ripped hem and missing shoe.

He narrowed his eyes at her bare foot—she was limping. Your foot. You are indeed injured. Why didn’t you say anything?

She hastily tucked her toes behind her other foot, trying to hide the injury he’d already seen. “It’s nothing. Just a small scratch. You’re the one with serious wounds.”

He grumbled but conceded, afraid he might drive her away. I’ll allow you to tend my wounds if you wash your own first. I’m afraid my claws would only injure you more.

The next thing he knew, she was calling for Galen to help her get him inside while Lyra ran to get clean cloths and boil water. Once in the Great Hall, she urged him onto one of the blankets that Mrs. Calla had retrieved from his tower and she’d spread across the tile.

Once Lyra had wrapped Melora’s ankle and tended to her scrapes—at his insistence—Aurie finally gave in, letting Melora tend to his wounds. He savored her gentle touch, just as he always did while in dragon form.

The number of wounds she tended surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how injured he’d been. “Your poor wing,” she murmured. “I don’t know what to do about it. That blasted wolf seems to have taken a chunk out of it.”

That would explain why it hurts so much.

“I cannot believe you flew me home on that.”

You were in danger. I wasn’t about to let anything happen to you.

“Even after I ran away?”

You had good reason to. Now why don’t you sit down? You’ve had a harrowing day. You should relax.

Thankfully, she didn’t argue, sinking onto the only comfortable chair in the room. Her eyes fluttered and her head bobbed.

I’m fine now. Go ahead and take a nap. He gently tucked a pillow onto the sofa. She yawned and lay down upon it. He took one of the blankets and gently placed it over her. She snuggled in, her breathing becoming heavy and even. Within minutes, his exhausted friend was asleep.

He looked down at her, his heart aching with desire. Her silky hair hid her too-often-troubled brow, which was now smooth with sleep. It was his fault this had happened to her. He never should have let her leave. He gingerly ran a claw down her cheek, wishing he could feel her soft skin with his natural fingers. If only he could change back into a human, then he could finally explain to her what had happened. He hated that she still believed he had run from her, despite his assurance that he had merely gone off on business. His pathetic excuse had fooled no one.

But he couldn’t ignore the statue in the room. She deserved to know about his mother. Unfortunately, it was a story that should only be told as his true self—Aurelius. She needed to hear it from his lips, not from a creature she thought was separate from him.

He looked down at the large pads of his fingers, his sharp claws extended. Would she forgive a monster? She claimed she would, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. His eyes lingered on her sleeping form once again. There was only one way to find out. He would have to transform back into a human. Perhaps this time, he would finally get it right.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. From experience, he knew that he only ever transformed back when he was calm. He took another deep breath and released it, thinking once more about Melora—for her! He had to do this for her. She had to know that she was blameless in all of this. He simply couldn’t allow her to hold on to all that guilt.

He thought about how it felt to be human, with his hands and his feet. His fingers and toes claw-free, his skin smooth and dark, and hair—how he missed the curls of hair atop his head.

Another breath.

He thought of his mother, frozen in gold—all because of him. Even so, she wouldn’t want him stuck as a dragon. She hated every bit of the curse, but she especially disliked how he’d turned into a dragon.

In and out.

He remembered Melora standing in front of her sister—terrified of the dragon she knew nothing about but determined to protect her sister at all costs; the smarmy smile her false fiancé had given her as if she were his.

Aurie shuddered and released his clenched claws. No! He refused to let that man win—and he would, if Aurie could not stop being angry and be completely calm. He thought of what Melora had said—choosing to let go, not because they deserve it, but because he needed peace.

He needed peace for her .

He slowed and focused his breath once more.

In and out.

For the first time in days, he felt a familiar tingling sensation down his spine and throughout his body.

In. Out.

He needed to assure Melora that he was well. That ”Dragon” had done nothing to him—at least not in the way she was thinking. But he was definitely at fault— If only he had been a better son. If only he hadn’t invested all of his money in such a risky scheme. If only he had never gone to the dragon in the first place. Regret filled his mind with “if only’s,” berating him for the decisions that had led him to this point.

He could feel the dragon within him roaring, trying to take control of his body once again. His heart pulsed with heat and his paws trembled. No! He refused to give into the pull of the dragon. Melora! He needed to be human for her!

He took another breath, releasing the self-loathing that had been building inside—not because he believed he was innocent, but because he needed peace.

For her.

As he focused again on Melora, a great calm came over him. The tell-tale tingling sensation returned, more powerful this time. He sucked in a breath as his claws retracted and his spines folded back into his body, along with his wings, and he shrank back down to his normal size.

He couldn’t help the cry that slipped out as the painful transformation continued—much more painful than usual with his fresh wounds. He had just enough presence of mind to grab his blanket before he collapsed in a heap.

“Aurie!” He heard Melora gasp from the sofa.

What had he been thinking, transforming with her in the room!?

* * *

M elora blinked the sleep from her eyes. The blanket Dragon had tenderly tucked around her slipped to the ground. She couldn’t quite believe the sight before her. Dragon shrank before her eyes, a roar spilling from his lips as golden dust shimmered in the air. With a partly human hand he grabbed the blanket she’d laid over him, then fell to the ground in a heap.

“Aurie!”

She gasped. The blue blanket shimmered, gold surging down its fibers, transforming the entire thing to pure gold.

“Aurie!” she called again, rushing to his side. Her heart crashed in an uneven cadence.

Dragon had turned into Aurie!

Unless she was dreaming! She reached out to touch him, to assure herself that he was real, but stopped herself just in time. His warning of a deadly curse rang in her ears.

Her eyes traveled down his muscular back to the golden blanket covering the bottom half of him—the blanket that had been blue just moments before. The geometric pattern it originally had was now in subtle shades of gold… just as golden as the rest of the house…

Her mind flew to the day at the village when he’d been unable to help repair the roof. She had been certain that he could touch objects, so it never occurred to her that he would be unable to help. She quickly began cataloging things he had touched. He’d knocked on her door and eaten with utensils… all the roses he’d given her…

Every single thing she recalled him touching—including the blanket that now covered him—had one thing in common: gold.

Every stitch of clothing he ever wore was in some shade of gold, even the jerkin he had given her. His gleaming skin caught her eye; the black tone contrasting beautifully with the blanket. She’d always thought he wore it because it showed his status—and it highlighted his broad, muscular shoulders, she acknowledged with a blush, as she couldn’t help but notice them now—but she was beginning to realize that it was impossible for him to wear anything else. It was always gold.

He moaned and shifted, bringing her attention back down to him. Mesmerized, she watched his back muscles ripple as he turned and sat up.

She wetted her suddenly dry mouth. “Aurie, what exactly is going on? I saw… Dragon… you… the blanket. I don’t understand.” Who exactly was the man before her? She shook her head, her breath coming out in short gasps.

He sat up in one fluid motion, giving her a close-up view of his bare chest. A golden marking of a flame accentuated the defined muscles there—just as powerful and striking as the lines of his back had been.

Swallowing, Melora tore her gaze away. She refused to be caught ogling his chest—especially not at a time like this. She met his piercing blue eyes as they focused intently upon her. Had his cheeks just flushed? Probably not, though his dark coloring made it hard to tell.

He shifted uncomfortably, readjusting his blanket as the silence continued. He had some explaining to do! “I… I guess you saw that.”

Her shoulders straightened, and she pursed her lips. “If by that you mean some kind of magical transformation, first of you, then of your blanket, then yes.”

A sigh fluttered from his lips before he turned his eyes back toward her. “I’m cursed. It’s just as I told you before, but what I didn’t tell you was that it’s my own fault.”

She sucked in a breath, almost afraid of the answer. “What do you mean? Why would you curse yourself? Why couldn’t you just tell me who you were when I was looking for you? I was so worried.” Her voice wavered, heavy with the emotion from the long day. as a tear unexpectedly leaked down her cheek.

“You have to understand—I lost everything after my father died. All I ever wanted was to be enough for him, but it was a task I always failed at. He insisted that a person’s value was tied to their wealth and status. When I discovered the sad state of our finances after his death, I set out to prove myself by investing most of our money, sure it would double what we had, except that isn’t what happened. I lost everything. The investment wasn’t as sound as I’d been led to believe.”

He pressed his hand to his forehead. “But that wasn’t all. Immediately after I received news that my investment had tanked, the king sent another message, revoking my title. While he had always liked my father, he despised me. We frequently disagreed on politics, particularly when I stood firm about lowering his ever-increasing taxes. He claimed that the people I invested with were traitors, and that even in ignorance, my actions served his enemies, making me unfit for my title. He was looking for an excuse to remove me, and my poor choice of where to place my trust gave him one. He forced us to leave our own home. Thankfully, my mother still owned Everrose. But I wanted more.”

He went on to explain how he had sought help from a dragon to regain his wealth, and the dragon had granted his request by causing everything he touched to turn into gold. He shared about the dragon’s warning, lamenting how lust for the gold had consumed him and turned him into a dragon—just as he had been warned.

“And the woman I saw in the forbidden room?” Melora wrapped her arms around herself, almost afraid of the answer, still reeling from all that he had told her.

He averted his gaze, his shoulders slumping. “My mother.” The words came out in a near whisper.

She sucked in a sharp breath and pressed her hand to her chest. “No!” Her head was shaking back and forth along with the rest of her body. His mother? He must have… No!! Her thoughts swirled as her heart ached—to turn his own mother to gold—she couldn’t imagine the pain and guilt he must be feeling.

“She tried to tell me to break the curse, but I was still consumed with the need to prove myself to my dead father. We argued, and I accidentally touched her.” His words came out thin and strained, pitched higher with pain. “Turning my own mother to gold.”

A tear glistened on his cheek.

“I really am a horrible beast.”

She caught her lip between her teeth as her heart wrenched at his confession—he mustn’t believe such a thing!

“Aurie, no! You’ve proven yourself to be a kind-hearted and loving man.” She saw in a new light the glints of gold in the little girl’s hands at Taren’s house. “You helped Taren when you could have turned him away or demanded recompense for trespassing and stealing—allowing us to fix their roof and giving his sister gold. Even my father! You could have been much harsher with him for his deceit. Instead, you used his folly to help me. You don’t need wealth or power to be a good man and to make a difference. You only need to be your best self and use what you have to offer.”

His lips parted, and he leaned closer to her. “Since meeting you I have regretted the curse more than ever before. Particularly now. I wish I could touch you. Even the simplest of gestures to show you how much I appreciate your words.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “No one has ever believed in me like you do. You constantly amaze me. How can a person be so beautiful, both inside and out?”

She laughed self-consciously, picking at her sleeve. “Now you’re just flattering me. I’m no one important.”

“And yet, didn’t you just say that you don’t need to be anyone important to make a difference? You make a difference just by being you.”

Her heart turned to liquid gold, the burning within her making it glow brightly and melt into a gooey puddle. They gazed at each other for several minutes. His warm breath gently caressed her skin, smelling like smoldering spice with deep, earthy tones.

Tension sparked between them. They swayed closer.

He sucked in a breath and pulled back, looking down in shame. “I apologize. I almost forgot myself. I refuse to allow you to be another casualty of my curse.”

A smile twitched at her lips. “Then, let’s stop it.”

“Stop what?” He looked confused.

“The curse, of course. What do we need to do to break it?”

Troubled eyes met hers. “It won’t work. Don’t you think I’ve tried everything to free my mother?” Emotion made his voice heavy.

She scrunched her brow sympathetically. “Of course, you did. Perhaps together we can come up with the solution, but we will need all of the information.”

“To break the curse, I must demonstrate that I long for the golden touch to be reversed more than I long for riches or power.” he recited, “But I’ve tried everything I can think to change my mother back, and she is still gold, and I’m still cursed. I’m running out of hope.”

“Well then, together, we are going to change that.”