Chapter 33
I wake up with a start. I am in Theo’s bed, alone.
I blink the sleep away and half-sit up, looking around his chambers.
“Theo?” I call.
“I am here,” he replies, stepping out of the washroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He is still wet from bathing and he throws a second blood-stained towel to the side. “We need to get ready.”
I rub my eyes blearily.
“What can you mean?” I ask, my brain addled from too little sleep lately.
“To leave.” He says it plainly as though it is obvious. My heart stops. The memories of the last few days come back to me in a tsunami, pushing me beneath the surface.
“Theo—”
“It is too late. My father will have ordered your head by now, with this…kidnapped woman in tow. You must use the hidden tunnel and leave. Now.”
I shake my head, both my hands in my hair.
“I cannot,” I say, my voice pleading. “There—”
“Shivani.” Theo crosses the room and sits on the bed next to me.
Water droplets from his hair trail down his temple to his scruffy jaw. His eyes are red-ringed and laden with dark bags. I grit my teeth.
“Please,” he says. “I do not know how much time we have before the guards—”
“I am not leaving without you,” I say firmly. “I will not leave you to the king.”
“I must stay, Shivani.” He reaches across to squeeze my hands. “I am a danger to people outside these walls. I remember what the guard said to you last night—I had turned and I was not turning back. What if it becomes permanent? What if—” he falters, voice breaking. “What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you ?”
“No, no, no.” I shake my head. “Theo, this has been all wrong. The whole time, we have understood everything wrong.”
“What can you mean?” He frowns.
I scramble over the bed to kneel next to him, gripping his hand. I do not know how to explain myself clearly, the words becoming jumbled in my mind.
“The-the curse,” I stammer. “It— ”
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” a guard speaks from the door, entering without us knowing. Theo stands immediately, pushing me behind him, but when we look closer, there are several more guards in the hall.
“What is this?” Theo asks, voice low. I clench my fist to stop my hands from trembling as they fix their eyes on me. My au’mana vibrates against the block between us, agitated.
“King’s orders, Your Highness,” one of the guards speaks. There is a tinge of apology in his voice, but it is drowned out by the steeling of his shoulders. “She does not need to be here when your bride arrives.”
Theo straightens, and the muscles in his back tense.
“Even after what he did to Lucian,” he says quietly. “You are still loyal to him.”
They shift uncomfortably, eyes darting. Lucian , I think. Inez’s brother. Theo’s first love. I close my eyes briefly, chest aching. When the guards do not reply, Theo’s hands ball into fists at his side.
“Cowards!” he spits at them. “You betrayed one of your own, and now you…”
His voice breaks, and he glances over his shoulder to look at me.
“I am sorry,” Theo half-sobs. “I have failed to protect you.”
“No…” I whisper, reaching for his hand, but Theo’s head whips back around when the gu ards start to move toward us.
“Stop!” he shouts at them, drawing himself up to his full height. They falter slightly before pressing on, and Theo steps forward to meet them. “Stop this, now!”
They ignore him completely this time, one of them grabbing his arms to twist him away. He throws them off with ease but the guard is replaced with two others. One kicks Theo behind the knees, buckling his legs and forcing him to kneel. He tries to jerk himself out of their grip, but another comes forward to subdue him.
“No!” he cries as the rest of them swarm me.
Anger and adrenaline kick in. I reach blindly behind me and find the smooth surface of a wooden chair. I swing wildly, breaking it over a guard’s head. It explodes into broken wood and splinters as the guard goes down with a yelp. I seize the opportunity and sprint across the room, trying to make for the doorway but it is crowded with more guards.
One of them grabs me from behind, wrapping his arms around my stomach and lifting me while another tries to get a hold of my legs. I shriek and kick out, my heel connecting with his nose. There is a sickening crunch and a spray of blood as he falls back, clutching his face.
“Do not touch her!” Theo roars, and there is something terrifying in his voice. Something deep and inhuman .
I catch his eyes in between the sea of guards, and they are wide and ringed with fear. Fear for me. Fear for seeing my head on a spike outside his window. I know what is going through his mind, and I know what is going to happen. I try to call to him, but it is too late.
A scream erupts from his throat and rips apart his body. His skin splits, and tears as scaly spikes and terrible boils push through. He grows and grows. The guards subduing him are violently thrown to the side.
“Theo!” I yell as the guard’s grip on me drops in shock. The rest of them scatter, shoving each other out of the way to try and escape.
“The beast is here!” one of them calls as they scramble. I ignore him, fighting against the wave of guards, trying not to get knocked over and crushed underfoot.
Theo roars so loud the furniture quakes, and I clap my hands over my ears. The guards cry out and drop to the floor, stunned and deafened. He moves to swipe at them, but I throw myself in front of him.
“Stop!” I shout, holding up my hands. “Look, I am alright. I am alright. No harm has come to me.”
I pat my body as if to demonstrate. Theo draws back, his yellow eyes on me, a snarl plastered across his long, twisted snout. He stares at me a moment, the slits of his eyes dilating. A gurgle escapes from somewhere in his chest.
“Ssssss…” he opens his mouth and groans. “Ssshhhh…”
I slowly drop my hands, watching him.
“Shhh…Shhhivaaaanii…” He speaks as though there is glass is his throat, low and jagged. I nod encouragingly.
“Yes. Exactly. You and I.” I step forward, reach up on my tiptoes, and place my hand on his scaly stomach.
“Saints…” one of the guards mutters behind me. “The thing can speak?”
“He is not a thing,” I say firmly, not turning or taking my eyes off his. “He is still Theo.”
“Shiv…ani,” he says again and this time, it is not a painful groan but closer to a voice, gravelly and deep.
“Theo.” I smile at him, feeling the warmth beneath his scales.
He leans forward, stretching out a gnarled finger. I grasp it gently with both hands.
“Do you know why dragon text is so hard to read?” I ask the room, not expecting an answer. “Because they did not need to write often. Dragons spoke to each other, passing down their tales and their histories orally. But important things—things they wanted to preserve—they would not write them on paper but on themselves. They tattooed patterns and stories in ink on their wings.”
Theo’s stomach rises and falls as he breathes steadily, his golden eyes aglow. I watch them as grey swirls like smoke in his irises until the angry yellow is gone. Until all I see are his eyes, soft and sweet. The guards are silent, watching.
“You are not cursed, Theo,” I tell him. “You are a dragon.”