The Fallen Prince

25. Drakonis

25

DRAKONIS

“ Y ou look dashing, my darling.”

Through the gilded mirror, Yelena entered. She was in an elaborate dress with the deepest purple and silver. Her light brown hair was neatly coifed with a bold tiara sitting on her crown. When she walked it looked as if she were floating.

As she approached him from behind, she placed both hands on his shoulders. Drakonis bent down allowing her to kiss his cheek. He grasped her hand, squeezing it gently.

“Thank you, mother.” Drakonis made sure that not a hair was out of place. His high-necked tunic was lined in gold and was tucked neatly into his black breeches. An ankle length vest fit snug at his shoulders and chest, held in place by a ruby encrusted belt. Golden medallions hung off his shoulders, draping over his chest. Ruby studs sat firmly in one ear while a long gold earring fell to the bottom of his chin in the other, both easily hidden by his straight black and white hair, half tied in a bun behind his head.

“It has been so long since I have seen you so dressed up. Might there be a lady you are trying to impress?” Her smile was knowing. Drakonis kissed her on the forehead.

“You are a clever woman mother. I do not believe there is anything in this world that you do not know.”

“When it comes to you I must, lest monsters take my lovely child away.” Despite being a small and frail woman her clawed grip was tight. “Your father was supposed to come meet you, but he has business with your brother.”

“As he always does.”

At one point he was saddened by his father’s lack of attention. But it was the ancestor’s will that Kazimir led. At least that was what Konstantin believed. After seeing what he did in the ruins, and in town, Drakonis was even more resolved to make sure Kazimir would never rule.

“Your father loves you,” Yelena said with sympathetic eyes.

“He is doing what is best for the kingdom,” Drakonis added. “I just hope he realizes what he’s doing before it’s too late.”

The nightmare seemed so distant now that he had conquered the ruins. He did, indeed, become frightened but it was for very different reasons than his childhood self. After fighting the undead cyclops, going through the portals, and realizing he was truly the Heir, unity was more important than ever. “I have seen a glimpse of what Clara saw,” Drakonis started. “We cannot afford to be divided.”

“You will find a way.” His mother looked confident. She walked to open boxes of jewelry in the middle of the room. Perusing as if she had not seen the same jewels hundreds of times. “What jewelry have you sent her?”

Drakonis smirked at her womanly intuition. He had sent Alastair to Clara with a custom dress made from the scales of his kill from the Hunt. With, of course, matching gems and shoes. He only hoped she would show up.

“Pink sapphire,” Drakonis answered. “It was the only thing that complimented the dress perfectly.”

“Good choice,” Yelena confirmed. “She will look more radiant than any noblewomen in that ballroom.”

“If she shows.” A lump formed in his throat. “She has been avoiding me since our return from the ruins.” He had sent her letters and messages, but she remained silent. He had visited the library and gardens frequently, but she was not there. The Pythia showing up was a bad omen, and he no longer wanted a disaster to keep him from her. He wanted to tell her of his feelings honestly. If she showed, then he would this night. She had to know. Before it was too late.

“How can she resist you? My eldest son is the most handsome of all dragons, and the most charming.”

“I find myself clumsy around her.”

Yelena smiled, taking a golden ring with an inlet of rubies forming the shape of a flame. “I felt that way when I saw Gavril. I have always loved your father, and my unfortunate duty always had to come first. I thought I was content until…” Yelena’s willow eyes glazed over. A toothless smile pulled at her lips, her bottom one trembling. Grief showed in every action she had. Drakonis was positive. Gavril and his mother were true mates.

She slipped the ring onto Drakonis’s finger, moving his hand so the flames of the candelabras glimmered against it.

“I do not want you to be trapped in a loveless marriage,” Yelena continued. “You love this woman. I can tell.”

“And you have no issue with her being related to the gargoyles?”

“I tire of this war. The peace that you seek is what our people need. Besides, she is your chosen one. Your possible mate. How could I not adore her?” His mother’s trust meant more than anything he could ever ask for. Even since he was a child, she had always protected him. Now he wanted to stand on his own two feet and, with all his strength, protect she and Clara. For they were the most important women in his life. “This is the final night of our Dawning Celebration. It is a night of magick. Use that to your advantage when you sweep her off her feet. I know she will show. And when she does you will tell her of your feelings.”

“It would certainly make my life easier.” Both turned their head to see Alastair walking in the room. He bowed lowed towards Yelena. “My Empress,” he said. Yelena motioned him up. “I, for one, am glad he is finally confessing to tha girl. He can stop acting like a youngling in love.”

Yelena chuckled behind her hand. Drakonis punched his dearest friend in the arm. His heart warmed. The isolation he always felt was lessening and he could breathe more. And it was all because of Clara.

“Now come on, ya majesties, or you will be late to your own ball.”

The harps and lyres sang in synchronicity, with dulcimers and flutes jumping in when appropriate. It was a fair beat for dancing, and he hoped it would be soon that he would be able to finally enjoy it.

Women from noble houses approached the dais where his parents sat, and he and Kazimir stood. Kazimir was quite polite but less energetic than usual. He smiled, nodded his head, and kissed the hands of the ladies. Had something happened? Drakonis tried to reach out to his dragon, but silence followed. He had told Clara that the silence was normal, but his dragon had never gone this long without speaking.

Maybe it was paranoia. First there was the public effigy burning, aftereffects from the Ruins, the Pythia suddenly showing up, and now Kazimir acting odd. Danger was on the horizon.

Drakonis’s eyes raked across the full colorful dresses that filled the hall, but none from the one he wanted to see.

“One of you two must open the dance,” Konstantin said from the back.

“Yes, father,” the two brothers said in unison.

“You two have had your fair share of these women and have many choices. Make it soon, because I tire of being here,” Konstantin commanded.

There were not only dragons, but soldiers, and members of the Pythia’s camp scattered among the nobles.

“Father, I can’t help but notice that we have some unusual guests in attendance,” Drakonis said. He stood straight with his hands clasped behind him.

“Kazimir told me you had invited the lady, and that it would be insulting to not invite the others.” Konstantin’s voice was tense.

“It is interesting they would want to come,” his mother said. “They had no interest in us until Lady Clara came to see us.”

“Yes. I cannot wait until these gods-loving priests are all gone,” Konstantin answered. After a pause he added, “Though I must say the girl is tolerable.”

Drakonis smirked. “Tolerable” in his father’s book meant he liked her, though he would never admit it.

Murmurings and eyes moved to the front of the room as the gilded doubled doors opened. Drakonis couldn’t help his excitement. His chest felt lighter, and he fought the urge to charge towards her. Clara was finally within his sights looking more regal than he dreamed.

The corseted top hugged the curves that he had been dreaming about, cupping her breasts in a heart shape and her hips like a glove. Held by a gold jeweled belt, the skirt flowed behind her with every step, making the red scales blend in a pink and red ombre. Her black waves were pulled half up with the roses he sent tucked inside the updo. He was right about the pink sapphires. The necklace and earrings were simple but glimmered like scales along her collar. Had he not gotten to know her he would have thought she was unbothered, but he could see the way her hands shook, and the short breaths that left her thin lips.

With a skip in his step, Drakonis met her at the other end of the ballroom, the nobles parting as he approached. The whispers faded along his ears. Clara was here. And she took his breath away.

She fell into a curtsy as he approached. Drakonis touched her chin, having her stand back up. It was like lightning in his body as she looked up at him. He saw her lips twitch upwards.

“You made it,” he said.

He felt like he was flying in the skies. His chest expanded and he bowed with a hand over his rapid beating heart. He held her steady gaze with his own.

“How could I have ignored such an enthusiastic invitation?” Drakonis lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. Her hand was warm and clammy. He stroked the skin he could reach with his thumb.

How he wished he could pull her into his arms as he did before. They had felt quite empty in these days without her.

“Come. We must open with a dance.”

It was the only way he could touch her now. Until he could get her alone. He was going to tell her everything honestly, just as his mother had said. With danger on the horizon, he could bind her through their mutual affection. He was sure she felt the same with the kisses she gave him, and now he could freely lose himself in her when he needed.

Clara bit the inside of her cheek. She was nervous. It was understandable, but he would make her forget it all. He grasped her fingers, holding their hands parallel to her waist. Once reaching the floor, she half-spun in front of him. He stood to the side, flicking his hand upwards. The band began to play.

The two approached each other, chests facing each other but never touching. Drakonis stepped towards her, and with every step towards her, she took one back.

“Look at me,” he said. She looked up, her golden eyes glittering. Her hands were at her skirts, lifting them as they swayed in a bigger circle.

“Where else would I look?” she asked. They spun around each other, sparks flying between their distant bodies. Drakonis looked over his shoulder as she spun around him, finally facing him once more. His mesmerizing mermaid. This princess glittered as much in person as she did in the dark waters.

“There are plenty here that will try to take you from me.” A smile finally broke through. They spun around each other, getting closer. Her breath beckoned him, and her sweet perfume hypnotized. Drakonis swallowed. He could not touch her. Not yet. It may start out as innocent, but it would quickly shift to scandal.

Their hands lifted, hovering close to the opposite’s head. “I was afraid you would not come.”

“I was not planning on it, but my heart told me I needed to,” Clara said.

Her heart? A new energy filled him, more powerful than hellfire.

The music picked up. They spun in opposite directions. As they walked towards each other their bodies moved toward each other at an angle, then their backs faced each other. This dance reminded Drakonis of their relationship. He had once been paranoid and cautious. Once he had shown vulnerability after Gavril his walls crumbled. He would get close and learn something new about her. Then he would pull away in the name of duty. He would make excuses to touch her then fantasize in his private time. In his dreams. Clara had been here for such a short time but changed his life in such an absolute way. So much time he had wasted, and he no longer wanted that.

Drakonis took her delicate hand, gliding to the left two steps. They spun and he took her other hand, moving to the right. The music became louder. He grabbed both of her hands, stepping close, then they stepped far out. He spun her, lifting her arm over her head. He let go long enough to spin then grabbed it again.

“You dance well,” he complimented.

“I have had my fair share of balls. But I must say, I don’t miss the stares,” Clara said.

Her back was stiff as they continued to move along the dance floor.

“I always took you as one who loved to dance.”

“I prefer to be a wallflower.”

Drakonis’s eyes moved along the crowd surrounding them. All eyes were on them, some glares, and many muttering behind fans. Clara had not had the best welcome amongst the nobility. Had it not been for him, Alastair, and Gavril who would know how long she would have lasted here.

“I am delighted that you have decided to bloom for me this night.”

“I as well.”

After spinning her a couple more times, Drakonis earned gasps as he picked her up, throwing her in the air, and catching her by the waist. His hand twitched to move to her bottom. To feel her pressed flush against his body once more.

Clara laughed and it was more melodious than the instruments playing. Finally, he saw the mask melt away, and saw her as she was at the festival.

“Once this dance is over, I wish to speak to you,” Drakonis said.

Her breath caught as she looked at his chest. Drakonis could not resist it anymore. His hand finally touched her waist as he danced in circles with her on the ballroom floor.

“Very well. I have something I must speak with you about, too.”

His heart thrummed. Drakonis thread his long fingers in her tiny ones. The magick of his ancestors would give him courage. Clara had snuck glances at his body, kissed him, even gave him some of her body. It was only proper for him to confess to her and secure her reciprocation.

The two pulled away and stepped towards the dais. As he watched her profile, he saw her eyes glued to Kazimir. His brother neither smiled nor frowned. He just watched her, his lips a flat line. Drakonis placed his thumb on the pulse of her wrist. He brought Clara back to his chest and spun her once more. A growl vibrated from his throat.

“Kazimir seems to have an interest in you,” Drakonis said.

“This is not the appropriate venue nor time for such a conversation.”

Clara was not acting afraid of Kazimir. There seemed to be a new familiarity between the two. Had she avoided him to spend time with his brother? Was that time given freely or coerced through the Pythia. Konstantin hated all that worshipped the gods, so it could only be Kazimir that had let them in.

The music faded. Clara let go of his hands, curtsying and him bowing. He reached to grab her hand once more and guide her out towards the balcony.

“Brother.” Kazimir was behind him, his hand on his shoulder. Drakonis flexed his claws, fighting the urge to run them over Kazimir’s face. “You have made me anxious to dance. Lady Oracle, may I have the pleasure?”

Drakonis expected that Clara would reject him flatly, but she curtsied once more with a hand over her chest. “If that is what you desire, your highness.”

Drakonis’s mouth became dry. Fire burned through him as he saw Kazimir take her hand.

He could not duel his brother. Nor fight.

He took a deep breath, forcing a smile at Clara.

“Very well,” Drakonis said. “I will take your time after this dance, Princess.” It wasn’t a question. She nodded as he walked off.

“What the hell is going on?” Alastair asked, appearing at Drakonis’s side as he entered the crowd.

“I don’t know.” More couples joined on the floor, but he never lost Clara in the crowd. “Haven’t we had someone guarding her when we aren’t present?”

“Yes, but none reported any cozy times between the two of them.” Alastair said.

Clara and Kazimir were in deep conversation. Other couples exchanged partners, but Kazimir held firm to Clara. The closer he got to her ear the more Drakonis wanted to rip his brother’s head off. “Something has happened. She all but confirmed it.”

“Tha lady has been actin’ strange since the…other day.” The day that she saw the effigies getting burned . Drakonis added.

“Have we kept eyes on the Pythia?” Drakonis asked.

“She hasn’t left her quarters, but many of her cronies have been coming in and out.”

Something about that woman made Clara uncomfortable. Clara had always made her unfavorable regard known. She had used the Pythia’s name to pressure the emperor into letting her in Ouroboros. He had intercepted her outgoing communications. Clara was vague and duplicitous in her communications with the Ancient Isle. Ragnar’s warning echoed in his mind.

Clara’s face paled as Kazimir spoke to her. Her lips moved rapidly, her hand flexing against his tunic.

Alastair grabbed Drakonis by the arm as he stepped forward.

“Don’t,” he said. Fire burned in Drakonis’s eyes. Of all times, he wished his blade was on his hip. “The lady cares for you Drakonis. Everything she does is for you. Trust what she is doing.”

His heart knew what Alastair said was true. He noticed the desperate way she held him at the Ruins. He remembered every smile and direct word she said, not bothering to spare his feelings. But his heart raced in anger. She should touch only he. Had he the opportunity, he would lock her up and let no one nearby.

The music slowed and Drakonis took steps through the crowd. As the last of the notes faded, he was at Clara’s side taking her hand. Kazimir had an unusually somber look on his face as Clara curtsied and turned her back on him. Drakonis met his brother’s eyes, narrowed, and led Clara out to the balcony. He’d made his appearance. His princely duties were done. Now he would simply be with Clara, and finally reveal his heart.

The night air was crisp compared to inside the ballroom. Instead of floating fire, gold, and jewels, the area was lit by two moons and blanketed in stars. By his side, Clara held his arm at the elbow silently looking forward. She always managed to make him feel breathless, especially this evening.

Feeling his gaze, Clara looked up. “Is something wrong your highness?” she asked.

“How could anything be wrong?” Drakonis answered. “I am finally alone with the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen.”

Even if something happened with my brother and you have not told me. He thought.

A blush dusted her cheeks as she looked down. He would charm her. Once she accepted his confession, he would get all the answers he needed. Bringing up Kazimir would only tamper the mood.

“I doubt we are alone, your highness,” Clara said.

Eyes bore into his back from the castle windows. He stepped closer, shielding her the best he could as he led her from the balcony to stairs, and ultimately the gardens. He wanted to be the only one to gaze upon her now. He had done plenty of sharing.

He growled low in his throat. When it came to Kazimir it was hard to trust. He was certain that her heart was his, but as Alastair and Gavril had pointed out, she was powerless against a dragon royal. Kazimir was not above using that to his advantage. Rage consumed him, head and heart in a fierce battle. His eyes followed every step, notating every facial expression. Emotions were naked on Clara’s face, a mix of emotions, but Kazimir remained unusually pensive. By the end of the dance, he looked thoughtful, regretful. It was like he was looking at the scared boy from years ago.

His own hand rubbed over the top of hers, trying to remove all traces of Kazimir from her. That would be the last time he would let his brother touch her. If it happened again, Kazimir would suffer.

“At least I can thank you,” Clara said. Her head was tilted up as she looked at the stars.

“What do you have to thank me for?”

“My time in Ouroboros has been more… exciting than expected,” she began. “But I’ve been happy getting to know Lord Alastair, the Empress, and you.”

“You sound as if you are leaving.” Clara’s lips flattened. The grip on his elbow tightened. Dread filled his body. She had said she needed to speak to him. Was this the beginning? “Tell me what you are thinking Clara.”

She avoided his sight. He grabbed her by the bare shoulders.

No. This cannot be. Drakonis thought. Reason was leaving him.

“Clara,” Drakonis said again. “Are you planning on leaving?”

“My… guard tells me that it is time for me to go,” Clara answered.

Her guard? Nero. He may be an ally, but Drakonis would wring his neck the next moment he could. No one was taking his Clara away.

“Inform Nero that you are remaining here. I am more than capable of protecting you.” Clara’s eyes widened as she finally looked up at him. She bit her lip. She fiddled with the ends of her curled hair.

“I know we did not start off on the best of terms, but when things here settle, I do wish you would send me word. I would be happy to accept you in either Oceanus or Herrlof.” Her trembling hands slipped one of his large ones to her chest, grasping tightly. She kissed the flame jewel ring that sat on his knuckle. Drakonis willed her to look up at him, but she didn’t. He held his breath. “I know I sound foolish. I’m but a human, and you are a dragon prince; a favorite among his people, and a war hero that will go down in history. My life is short compared to yours but there will not be a day in it that I will not think of you. I will wish for your good fortune…”

“I do not need your wishes,” Drakonis interrupted. “Tell me, princess, did you really expect me to let you go after the mess you made?”

A stray teardrop cascaded down her cheek.

“You’re right. I should never have come. I was selfish to think I could destroy your peace and…”

“I’m not talking about that,” Drakonis said. He left his hand in hers and touched her chin with his other. He tilted her head up, forcing her beautiful round eyes to meet his. “I do not regret the day you came. If you had not come then, I do not know when I would have the chance to meet you. To fall in love with you.”

Clara’s eyes widened. Drakonis ran his free hand up her face, over her cheek, and through the free strands of her hair.

“I didn’t realize it then, but you pushed me to be stronger, Clara. I may be all the things you say, but I still did not truly live. I was suffocating.”

“Drakonis…”

He put a thumb over her lips, silencing her. He caressed the bottom lip, pulling it away from her teeth.

“I burn only for your Clara. You have become irreplaceable to me.” He stepped closer. “You are my strength, my reason for living. You are the very air I breathe.”

There was no resisting her anymore. Blood rushed like a river through his body, his head hummed. He leaned down and kissed her lips. First it was a simple caress. One kiss became two. She did not push him away but closed her eyes and met him in sync. His hand left her face and wrapped around her tiny waist. The closer he pulled her, the harder he kissed her. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth for him. He released her hands, cupping the back of her head as he tilted his.

His tongue absorbed every taste, massaged every crevice, and ran along the roof of her mouth. Her moans egged him on, starting a fire in his belly. It wasn’t his dragon growling at him, but his very soul. She was his mate. He felt connected in a way with her that he never felt with any other. He bent his knees, picking her up by her bottom. Her tiny hands grasped the sides of his head as he rushed them to the nearest flat surface.

They broke apart as Drakonis hit a stone bench. The distant sound of a fountain across the way sounded loud, but was drowned out by Clara’s moans. One hand ran up her skirts, running down her long legs, while the other propped him up. Clara’s blushing face made his cock twitch. He fell upon her lips again, arching his hips. He would deny himself no longer. This woman was his. She was his salvation, and the ones that the universe destined him to be with.

He would not accept this goodbye.

His lips left hers and traveled down her golden neck. Her had done this in the ruins, thinking it good enough. It was not enough now. This was the start of him tying her down. Nero was taking her away and he would stop it.

Her hands grasped his shoulders as she arched her back. Gripping her thigh, he pulled her further down until their hips were flush. He would rip these skirts if he had to.

Her breasts heaved. He tucked his hips to keep him steady as he grasps onto one.

“Clara, my princess…” he moaned. Mine. He repeated in his head.

“Drakonis…” She moaned. Her heels dug into the back of his thigh. Drakonis fought the urge to rip the beautiful dress but let his hand roam further up her thigh. Under her shift.

The smell of arousal egged him on.

Drakonis nipped her chin as she arched again. The breasts he ached to taste nearly escaped her corset.

“By the gods, I love you.” Drakonis panted. The tips of his claws pricked her bottom, rolling over her hips.

She had called herself silly for being a human and he a dragon, but he would never be without her. He would find a way to match their life forces. If she died, or was stolen, the world would burn. It would be as if the Underworld had risen.

“Tell me you reciprocate princess.”

Drakonis took her lips again, her fingers gripped his hair and back of his neck. Wind blew against them, but the crispness turned hot. Drakonis rubbed a nipple that hardened against the dress.

Starlight became golden in her beautiful eyes. The gems that graced her neck and ears looked as if a constellation was engraved in her skin. She was more beautiful than any dragon woman. More ethereal than any goddess or siren.

His palm cupped her womanly curls. Once they were in bed he would explore her with his mouth, but this would do. For now.

“Oh…” Clara gasped.

Drakonis let his thumb run up until it reached her pearl. He moved it in sync with his hips. She was so small compared to him. He had to make sure she was as ready for him as possible. He would hurt her, but it was the only time he wished to see tears in her eyes.

“Focus on me Clara. Only on me.”

Gods helped anyone that tried to interrupt them.

Drakonis bent his head, the tips of his long hair curtaining around her face. Clara’s grip was tight as she mimicked the movement of his digits. This passion. This adrenaline. It made him mad.

His cock pressed against his batluns , aching to be released. He wanted to feel how tight she was inside. How unhinged she would become with every thrust. Drakonis wanted to hear her beg for more and fall completely to his mercy.

Clara’s eyes widened. She buried her face in his neck, biting down on his clothed shoulder. Her body was shuttering.

“My princess.” He said, moving his finger down over her lower lips. Instead of feeling her pliant, her body stiffened. Was she scared? “Relax, my love. I will make sure you are most…comfortable.” His voice was deep and husky. Unrecognizable.

“Drakonis… wait.”

Clara pushed against him. He leaned towards her, intending a kiss, but she stopped him with her fingers to his lips. She wanted to stop? Was she not pleased? Impossible. He felt her climax.

Even now her eyes were hooded and dark. Her swollen rosy lips were parted and shimmering, beckoning him for more.

“If being in these gardens bother you, we can go to our forest,” Drakonis said.

He could have her against the dracora blossom trees just like he desired all that time ago.

“No Drakonis. We must stop.”

“And why must we stop? I love you and you love me, yes?” She had not said the words, but every action, every look, told him so. Crystal tears fell down her cheeks. His hand left her disarrayed skirts and cupped her cheek. “Princess?”

“This is wrong. I shouldn’t…we shouldn’t…”

“And who says we can’t?” She shook her head saying nothing. “Is this about me being the Heir? What happened at the Ruins?” Her golden irises shook. “All will be well. You just need to stay by my side, and we will overcome anything the gods throw at us.”

His passion was cooling, replaced by panic. His love was crying. She was fighting this feeling.

“And what about your family? My being here is tearing your family apart. Your people!”

This was about what happened in town. She had barely said a word while the dragons were burning the gargoyle effigies. He was careless. Those were her family. The ones her beloved sister had married into.

Clara clutched his vest, burying her face in his chest. He held her, attempting to rub circles along her back, but nearly howled when she pulled away from him. His normally hot body was becoming cold.

“I should have never came. It will only bring you ruin. There are those that will use you. That will tear your home apart for a power that only I can awaken. And you…” She jumped from the bench and began pacing and adjusting her skirts. “The Moirai, the Fates, they showed me another vision last night. I will be the one to kill you.”

Her golden skin turned pale. Drakonis stood, taking a step towards her. But she took a step back. Just a moment ago he felt he could conquer the world, and now his world was receding. It was slipping from his grasp.

“And how would you do that? You cannot even protect yourself.” He reached for her, wishing desperately, to continue what they were just doing.

“I’m telling you, Drakonis, I saw it. You were as pale as ice, not breathing. One moment you were there and…” She paused, touching her forehead. “If the Moirai showed me this it is sure to happen. Until I know the circumstances, I cannot be around you. I can’t…” She clutched her stomach. “If something happened to you, I would not survive it.”

Drakonis took her back in his arms, soothing her. She did not push him away, but that did not matter right now.

“Clara, you once told me that I control my own destiny. I say the same to you. I will bring peace to Ouroboros and my people. With you.”

She shook her head against his chest. “You don’t understand.”

“Make me understand Princess. For every one of your tears is a knife to my heart.”

Her hands were on his chest, as she softly pushed away. “No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry Drakonis. Please…I…”

She looked to the side where they entered. She picked up her skirts and bolted in the opposite direction.

“Clara!”

Drakonis chased after her, but she was quick to hide in the shadows. Places where even the stars and moon didn’t reach. There was only so far that she could go. He bumped into a body. One that was made of shadows themselves with two red eyes.

“Out of my way.” Nero being here was never good. And right now, he had no time for pleasantries.

“Let her go,” were his words.

“You will not take her away from me,” he bit back.

“I do what her highness commands of me. And she has told me to take her away from here.” Nero said.

“At your suggestion!” Every word Nero said was poison.

“A good suggestion indeed. She is endangering herself and you by remaining. When you awaken, I will return.”

“Take her away from me and I will burn Herrlof to the ground.” Drakonis threatened.

Nero’s smirk was devious. “It will be a pleasure to see you try. No one has caused such chaos since I.”

A chill ran up his spine. He was aware of the lands that burned under Nero’s command. When the older gargoyle prince had been murdered, he razed his own lands with Ragnar.

“Give her time,” Nero added, his smirk gone. “There are more dangers around than you can see.”

Drakonis moved to grab Nero by the collar, but he disappeared into the shadows. This was not the way his night was supposed to end. Clara was supposed to reciprocate. She was to be his and support him by his side.

“Ah!” Drakonis howled. A gust of white flame left his maw, burning some of the flower wall around him.

I will give you time . For now.

But so, help him. If Nero, the Pythia, or Kazimir tried to take her away he would end them. Clara would be his, no matter what it took.