Page 109 of Never Ever After

“I helped you escape before—”

I smother the stab of remorse. “A child’s debt.”

“Then I’ll take my chances here.” His expression shutters. “I’ll negotiate with my sister.”

Inside I’m seething, but I laugh mockingly. “You have nothing to negotiate with. Your sister betrayed you. Your chief attendant and most powerful general have taken her side. They’ll seize the Sun Dragon from you, then cut your throat without hesitation.” Cruel words—but I have to bring him low enough to give me what I want.

“How is that different from what you offer?” Prince Zixin retorts. “If I give you the dragon, you’ll leave me here to die.”

He’s not wrong. After what he did to us, he’d deserve it. But it’s a painful and inconvenient truth that he did save me before. And I can’t let his sister win; she’s the reason my mother is dead.

“I’ll bring you with us if we escape,” I concede, “but you must return my sister’s ring, along with the dragon. Now.”

As he unfastens Dian’s ring from his waist, I reach for it, but he pulls away. Our eyes lock, his darker than night. Just when I think he’s going to threaten me, or force another unwilling promise, he presses the ring into my hand. “I trust you.”

Somehow this feels worse.

Once I slip my sister’s ring into my pouch, Prince Zixin places the unconscious dragon gently into my hands. His lips stretch into a hard smile as he glances at our red garments. “This could almost be an exchange of our wedding gifts.”

“Except these things you’re giving me are those you’ve stolen,” I reply cuttingly.

The Sun Dragon is cold in my palm, his scales possessing a golden sheen tipped with red, his beak and claws the vivid shade of a persimmon. A small pair of cuffs is attached to his legs, his claws curled. As I wrap the dragon in my discarded veil, his eyes open, their whites glazed with silver. A voice unfurls in my mind, the one I heard in the forge. Daughter of Mist Island, I remember you from the day the Iron Mountains soldiers came to our home.

These words stir something deep within, a sense of belonging, long forgotten but not dead. No one seems to notice, like the dragon is speaking to me alone. I remember, Honored Dragon, I think the words. But we are in danger, trapped in the Palace of Nine Hills. We must escape.

A pause, the dragon’s eyes closing. My strength is almost spent. The curse is broken, but it doesn’t replenish what was taken. Daughter of Mist Island, will you bring me home?

How I wish I could. I don’t have magic, I admit.

The dragon’s eyes open again, as luminous as twin moons. I will help you with what remains of my power.

I don’t want to weaken you—

Then we will die. You. Me. The cursed prince. The Sun Dragon lifts his head. Use what I give you to bring us home.

The moment I nod, the Sun Dragon bends, touching his brow to my ring. Light flares in the heart of the flower, stretching along the root, its color morphing from green to bright gold—the band of my ring gleaming, as the petals turn bright red. A tingling floods my veins. I blink, my eyes stinging like dust is caught in them—and when the discomfort settles, everything looks sharper, brighter. More alive.

Is this my magic or a remnant of the dragon’s? A thought slides into my mind: What if it’s both?

I’m grappling with these unfamiliar sensations like falling into a river without knowing how to swim. Warmth surges, a giddiness consuming me, my body taut like my skin has grown too tight, something writhing inside me eager to be freed.

The Sun Dragon closes his eyes once more like he’s fallen asleep. I use my discarded veil to sling him securely to my chest, then look up to find Princess Chunlei staring at me, her gaze slitted. As she gestures at me, several soldiers stalk toward us. But someone shouts a warning from outside, running into the Grand Hall.

“General Xilu, we are under attack!” the soldier cries out.

The general’s face lights up like he thrives on such danger, his hand caressing the hilt of his sword. “Who is attacking?”

“Mist Island,” the soldier replies, shrill with fear.

He says it like a nightmare, a horror—while it’s the sweetest sound to my ears. As cries of alarm ring from the guests, some rush to the entrance, pushing through the guards.

“Stay back,” General Xilu orders. “Protect our queen. Any who try to escape will be struck down.”

At once, the fleeing crowd subsides, the courtiers and attendants scuttling back, exchanging worried looks. Queen Chunlei frowns, but she’s astute enough not to challenge her husband when there’s a battle to be won.

“Barricade the doors,” General Xilu commands. “Secure the girl and the prince.”

Thick iron bars are slung over the doors, gleaming as brightly as the soldiers’ weapons. The hope that surged now ebbs as I gnaw the inside of my cheek till it’s raw. Help is here, but they can’t get in.