Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
As dusk fell, Cedric exhaled slowly, fastening the last button on his shirt with fingers that still trembled from the transformation. The city lay ahead, the last barrier between him and Finn. So close.
His sleep had been restless, his dreams fractured and cruel. He had woken in a cold sweat more than once, heart hammering with nightmares of what they might find in the dungeons.
Twice Cedric had almost given in to his deepest, most selfish instinct. The urge to grab Gwenna and fly them both far away. Just run. Hide where no one would ever find them. Let the kingdom and its problems rot.
But he couldn’t. Because Finn was still here, in Mirathen.
Not by his side, not anymore—but even after everything, after the lies, the betrayal, the truth laid bare between them, Finn hadn’t turned Cedric in.
He could have. Maybe he should have. But he hadn’t.
And now he was suffering for it. That knowledge gutted Cedric.
He had lost so much already, but the thought of losing Finn—of finding him broken, bloodied, or worse, dead—made his breath turn to ash in his lungs.
The rustle of leaves pulled Cedric from his thoughts. Gwenna pushed through the underbrush, adjusting the strap of her pack. Her dark clothing blended into the deep blue of twilight, and the glint of steel at her hip told him she was just as prepared for this as he was.
“Ready?” she asked.
Cedric nodded, though the lump in his throat made it impossible to speak.
He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, everything—his fears, his guilt, his overwhelming desperation—would come spilling out.
Instead, he forced himself forward, forging a path through the hidden glade and toward the city gates.
The south gate loomed ahead, torches flickering against the stone walls.
Cedric and Gwenna merged into the flow of merchants returning from a neighboring town, their carts rattling, their voices an indistinct murmur.
Cedric ducked his head, keenly aware of every glance from the guards standing watch. His pulse pounded in his ears.
The guards paid them no mind. They were more interested in ushering the merchants along than scrutinizing two weary travelers.
Only once they were past the gate and swallowed by the city’s narrow streets did Cedric allow himself a shallow breath of relief. They were inside, but they were not safe. Not yet.
As they made their way through the winding streets, Cedric was struck by how much had changed.
Buildings he had known all his life had been torn down, replaced by cold stone facades he did not recognize.
Open-air markets had been swallowed by new construction, the lively chaos of street vendors replaced with neatly ordered storefronts.
It was the same city in name, but Cedric felt like he had stepped into a dream—one where everything was just slightly wrong.
Gwenna tugged at his sleeve. “This way.” She guided him down an alley. The cobblestones were damp beneath his boots, slick with something he preferred not to identify.
They emerged onto a broader street just as two women were locking up a shop for the night. Their voices carried easily in the quiet.
“…heard they’re still interrogating that knight,” one of them said, her tone hushed.
Cedric’s breath stilled.
“Poor soul,” the other muttered, shaking her head. “But what did he expect, defying the king like that? These are dangerous times.”
Cedric’s stomach turned violently. His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. What had Darius done to him? How much longer could he hold out? How much longer until he broke?
Cedric quickened his pace, Gwenna matching his stride.
They turned a corner and…
Guards.
A patrol was heading straight for them, their lantern painting long, wavering shadows across the stone walls. Cedric’s mind went blank for half a second, his body freezing like a deer about to be run down by hounds. Gwenna’s hand clamped onto his arm.
“Just act normal,” she hissed under her breath. “Pretend like we belong, and they’re less likely to stop us.”
Cedric nearly laughed. Act normal? He was a dragon for half the day.
He hadn’t been normal in ten years. Cedric wouldn’t know normal if it stepped out of the shadows and introduced itself.
But he forced himself to move, his body rigid with effort.
One step. Another. Just keep walking. No dragon princes or feral princesses here. Just totally normal citizens.
“…increased patrols,” one guard was saying. “King’s orders. He’s paranoid about—”
The rest was lost to distance, but Cedric didn’t need to hear more. He could only guess why Darius was paranoid. But he was pretty sure it involved him and Gwenna.
He released a gusty breath, only daring to meet Gwenna’s gaze once the guards passed. She looked just as grim as he felt.
They walked in silence, moving deeper into the city.
Every street corner held ghosts of memories.
There—the bakery where he and Darius had snuck sweets as children, breathless with laughter, hands sticky with honey.
There—the fountain where he had stolen his first kiss, only to realize with a sinking sense of disappointment that the experience had done nothing for him. That no kiss from a girl ever would.
Everything felt distant. Blurred, like an old dream that didn’t belong to him anymore.
“Cedric.” Gwenna’s voice cut through the storm of his thoughts.
He exhaled sharply, dragging his gaze from the towering silhouette of the palace to where she stood, half-hidden by a tangle of overgrown bushes.
“We’re here.” She pushed aside a mass of foliage, revealing a rusted grate set into the stone wall.
It was nearly invisible beneath the creeping ivy, its metal corroded from years of neglect.
The faint stench of damp earth and stagnant water clung to the air.
“This leads to an old drainage tunnel,” she explained, her voice low.
“It should take us right under the castle walls.”
Cedric eyed the grate warily, his pulse quickening. He hadn’t set foot inside these walls since—since then. The last time, he had been something else, someone else. His body had not been his own, his mind lost to the storm of his first transformation.
The thought of walking back into the palace made his skin crawl. Still, he forced himself to focus on the present. “How did you even know about this?”
Gwenna shot him a sideways glance, mischief glinting in her eyes despite the gravity of their situation. “I may have done some exploring in my younger days. Being a princess can be terribly boring, you know.”
Cedric shook his head, not remotely surprised. Gwenna had always been reckless, always testing the edges of her golden cage, looking for ways to slip through the bars.
She crouched and gripped the edges of the grate, straining. The rusted metal groaned but refused to budge. “It’s stuck,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “Can you…?”
Cedric stepped forward automatically, bracing his hands against the grate…and froze.
A memory slammed into him, fast and brutal.
Claws screeching against stone. The tang of blood in the air. The cries of men as they died. His own breathing—ragged, wild—his heart hammering against the inside of his ribs as he lost himself to the hunger, to the heat, to the sheer, uncontrollable terror of what he had become…
“Cedric?” Gwenna’s voice pulled him back, the world shifting beneath his feet as he clawed his way out of the past. He was here. Now. Not then. She was watching him, brow furrowed with concern. “Are you all right?”
He swallowed hard. His mouth was dry. “I’m fine,” he managed, though his voice sounded brittle. Liar. “Let’s just—let’s just get this open.”
Together, they pulled at the grate. Rust flaked beneath their fingers, the metal groaning in protest, but it refused to budge. The years had sealed it shut, the elements conspiring against them.
After several frustrating minutes, Gwenna let out a sharp breath and released it. “Great. Now what?”
Cedric ran a hand through his hair. They needed another way in. And then—
A memory stirred. A secret tucked away in the depths of his childhood. A passage he had never told Darius about. Never told anyone about.
“I know another way,” he said slowly. “It’s risky, but it might be our only option.”
Gwenna turned to him sharply. “Oh? And when were you planning on sharing this information?”
Cedric ignored the jab, his mind already working through the logistics. “There’s a hidden entrance to the royal stables. It was used in times of siege to smuggle in supplies. If it’s still there, it should get us inside the castle grounds.”
Gwenna blinked. Then her eyes narrowed. “And you’re just mentioning this now?”
“I’d forgotten about it,” Cedric admitted, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like I’ve spent the last decade reminiscing about childhood escape routes.”
Gwenna huffed, but nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”
They moved swiftly through the darkened streets, keeping to the narrowest alleys and the deepest shadows. Cedric’s pulse spiked as they neared the eastern side of the palace grounds, where the royal stables awaited them. Would the entrance still be there? Had it been discovered in his absence?
He reached the stand of trees shielding the hidden door and ran his hands over the weathered wood, searching. His fingers brushed against something—an indentation, a faint groove. There.
With a quiet click, the door swung open.
Gwenna arched a brow. “After you, Your Highness,” she said with a mock bow.
Cedric shot her a withering look but stepped inside first, his senses stretching into the darkness. The passage was narrow and smelled of mildew and rodents. They moved carefully, feet whispering against the packed dirt.