Throne of Secrets (Prince of Sin, #2)

by Kerri Maniscalco

Immortality would keep me breathing no matter what, but not everyone in our hunting party had that luxury. Like me they fought for the thrill of it, but it also was one of the greatest sources of fuel for my power. The hunt fed my sin more than anything else. Since my circle’s sin was gluttony, most outside the Underworld believed that meant overindulging in food and drink. We did that too, along with fucking and fighting, but most of my sinners took after me—preferring to overindulge in adventure and danger.

Failure just means you’re trying and there’s no shame in that. Don’t let anyone tell you who you are. Believe in yourself. It’s your life and you’ve got to live how you see fit. To hells with everything else.

“Have you ever been in love?” He snorted, finally dropping his focus away from the sky and whatever had been holding his attention. I couldn’t see his eyes but felt the heat of his gaze move along my costume. Something about his aura shifted along with his posture, his attention suddenly feeling dangerous in the most intriguing way. Like standing too close to a seaside cliff as the wind whipped at your limbs, dragging you perilously closer to the edge. Or maybe it was how a mouse felt when a hawk noticed it and realized it was famished. I wasn’t naive enough to think myself the hawk, especially as a charge built in the space between us. But I was daring enough to hold my ground, curious to see what happened next. Which was completely unlike me. Work, I quietly scolded myself. I was here for work only. He didn’t seem to notice my silent battle, thank the old gods for small mercies. “That’s quite the loaded question for a pleasure club, Lady Frost.” A clever nickname, considering my costume. I hid my fascination, curious to see how he reacted to my next move. “Not really. You looked like you were contemplating something vast. Love, loss; those are typically the biggest culprits of intense longing. It was either that or you’re constipated.” He tossed his head back and laughed, the tension between us breaking with the rich, pleasant sound. My heart gave a little flip. I’d scowl at it for being foolish if I could. “Your wooing skills are horrendous.” “That’s because I’m not try...

I drifted closer to the roof’s edge, where a stone railing lined the perimeter. I hadn’t gotten close enough to really look at it last night and loved the detail that went into it. The posts were carved to look like dragons standing upright on their hindquarters, their wings extended to keep patrons from accidentally falling over the edge. It was dark and whimsical with a hint of danger. It reminded me of the prince’s throne. Dragon art graced many homes and businesses since Axton had a fondness for the creatures and hosted hunts regularly. Most denizens of the Underworld were influenced by what the seven Princes of Sin enjoyed, so our circle’s affinity for the legendary creatures wasn’t unusual. I ran a finger along the dragon’s wing, marveling at the sheer majesty of the design. The stone was cold, frost coated, not unlike the ice dragons they’d been modeled after. Real dragons were forbidden from flying over our circle without the prince’s permission, but their territory was close enough that occasionally you might spy one in the far distance, a smudge on the horizon. I looked beyond the rooftop, at the world glittering before me. Up here, the night district was breathtaking. Stone buildings looked quaint nestled together with the snow drifting down in lazy flurries. In fact, it appeared as if the sky had been brought to earth, the lights in the taverns and pubs twinkling like golden stars.

“You seemed to be deep in thought,” he said. “What were you looking at so intently?” I settled back on the railing, glancing out across the city. “House Gluttony.” “Ah.” He sounded less than impressed. “Dreaming of taming the prince’s wicked heart by visiting his bed like every other maiden in the realm?” “Hardly.” His attention shifted to me, a smile touching the corners of his lips. “Interesting.” “What is?” “Most fantasize about making the debauched prince fall in love.” “Well, I believe he’s already in love.” “Oh?” His grin grew wider. “Who’s the lucky winner of that prize?” “You haven’t figured that out?” I tsked. “He’s very clearly in love with himself.” I added a touch of humor to my tone to avoid ruining our banter. Gabriel Axton wasn’t going to tarnish my night.

“Most come here in search of fun. I’m no different.” “Most come here, my lady, to give in to other sins.” Fair point. “Which sin did you come here to indulge?” He strummed his fingers over the railing, seeming to consider his answer carefully. My curiosity grew with each second that passed. “I’d rather show you, Lady F. If you’re up for an adventure.” His tone held a dare. And as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, my sin of choice was gluttony, if only for the fact that chasing thrills was one of my greatest secret desires.

I spun as the first dragon seemed to be born out of nothingness, stepping from the shadows of the forest, towering at least ten feet above me, its crimson eyes glazed over with a vacancy I’d never seen in an ice dragon before. I froze. Ice dragons’ irises were iridescent. There were no variations in color. Ever. “See that?” I asked. “Any idea what it means?” Wrath asked. I shook my head. “Maybe a spell or hex.” Our conversation halted as the dragon took another threatening step in our direction. It took a moment to spot the scar carving a swath along his chest. Silvanus. My breath lodged in my throat. Whatever looked out from Sil’s eyes wasn’t familiar. Hatred and madness burned bright. His gaze narrowed on me, nostrils flaring. No hint of recognition flickered in his eyes. Only a ravenous fury, aimed directly at me. I mourned my old friend, the little hatchling who growled even when nudging his head against me, quietly asking to be petted.

“Sil?” I yanked my dagger from its sheath, slowly pivoting as the dragon circled us. “You in there somewhere?” Silvanus’s eyes remained vacant as he shook his head, his scales sending prisms of light bouncing through the forest. Wrath and I exchanged looks. The dragon’s unfocused gaze was also at odds with the cunning he’d shown moments before with his kill. We didn’t have time to consider the implications of that or his eye color. Three more dark shapes appeared from the night sky, growling and snarling and spewing white flames of ice, their eyes shining with an unholy light as they descended upon us. Whatever hope I had left of this ending with the smallest amount of bloodshed vanished. The dragons hovered for a few moments, their beating wings sending out arctic gusts that would have killed a mortal. Thankfully it did nothing but fuel me to attack. My House was at stake. My demon murdered. No matter that I’d raised these dragons, that I’d considered them my friends; I would do what needed to be done for the good of the fucking realm. Even if that meant I needed to destroy them all.

Mortals had puppies and kittens, and I had Sil to love and raise before releasing him to the pack. The giant dragon lay on his side, his flank rising and falling in that same labored way it had directly after the fight. Once I finished cleaning him off, I ran a hand along his icy scales. The dragon didn’t stir. He’d been in the same unconscious state since Emilia magicked him here. “What happened to you, Sil?” The dragon remained asleep.

“On my crown, I’ll figure out how to save us all, Sil. Just hang in there for me.”

None of us had slept much and our frustration over last night’s events had our tempers running high. After we’d secured Silvanus in the dungeon, we’d taken Jackson’s remains to his family, staying to see him off to the afterlife. We’d altered their memories, a decision that weighed heavy and didn’t settle well for me. Or my brothers. We might be wicked, damned things, but we had our own morals. Gray and skewed as they were, there were some acts even we—the morally compromised—questioned.

“What is your issue this morning?” I demanded. “If you’d like to host the competition, by all means. Take up that mantle. You’re clearly succumbing to either envy or wrath, and I don’t have time to entertain you.” “Careful,” Lust said, a low note of warning ringing in his voice. “That’s not an accusation you want to make lightly, Gabriellis, especially when you’ve been lusting after someone you hate for years.”

Gabriel Axton was legendary for being ruthless when it came to the hunt. I did not want to end up his prey. A little shiver went through me at his proximity.

Dearest, insufferable Miss Saint Lucent, Consider the gown a gift to those who’d otherwise suffer your stench with the spilled oil. It’s most certainly not an apology for ruining your parchment. Or your day. His most charming royal highness, unrepentant rake and rogue, who I assure you has no issue with staying scandalous, Gabriel Axton, Prince Gluttony

I traveled down the winding corridor of the east wing, the ice-blue silk panels of wallpaper depicting ice dragons in flight and battle. With each scene I passed, the beautiful artwork felt more like a taunt than an ode to the creatures I so admired.

I paused outside the library’s ornately carved doors, haunted by the creatures I’d spent decades adoring. Two dragons faced each other, mirror images of ruthless beauty that seemed poised to attack. They were crafted of birchwood, and the artisan had used my tattoo as inspiration. The dragons alerted anyone who entered that they were guarding the vast knowledge of my kingdom.

No scientific proof to date, but one scholar posed an interesting question. Might a tonic created from royal vampire venom thrall dragons into speaking mind to mind without the need for a witch’s spell? Regardless of outcome, it might be worth pursuing.

Emilia hadn’t detected any spells and yet Silvanus still hadn’t woken up. I wasn’t sure what else could cause a dragon to slumber in such a way that nothing roused it. Royal vampire venom might be exactly what I needed. For the first time in what felt like ages, a spark of hope ignited in my chest.

I flew as fast as I could toward the mountains, noting the moment Wrath peeled away and sped toward the nearest dragon. His wings, once emitting a bright white fire, were now jet-black and menacing as he gave chase. For once we looked like exactly what we were: avenging angels, fallen from grace to battle the worst creatures in the realms.

“The dragons could be a distraction,” I said. “Maybe they want us focused here while they infiltrate House Pride.” Wrath folded his arms across his chest. “Did he ever inquire about the summit?” “No. You think he’s planning something of his own?” Wrath shrugged. “He hasn’t been growing slumber root to relax in the garden after work.” An idea formed at that. Slumber root was a flower that was powerful enough to knock a demon prince out cold, so it should act the same on a dragon. Perhaps it was time to get some plants for my healers to work with. Rumors had been circulating for some time that Pride had grown an entire field of slumber root, making us all wonder what he was really up to.

I exhaled. “Let’s hope we’re wrong about the dragons’ being cursed.” Wrath met my gaze, his expression as guarded as mine. “We need to talk to Pride. Do you want to send a request from your House or should I?” A slow, wicked smile curved my mouth. “Neither. I say we show up there now. You game?” My brother’s grin matched mine. Entering a different circle unannounced could be an act of war. A fact that made Wrath’s sin tremble with anticipation. Literally. The ground rumbled hard enough to cause a sheet of snow to careen off the wall. I gave him a flat look. “Keep it together, heathen.” With a dark twinkle in his eye, he winked. In a blast of smoke and shadow, he transported himself to House Pride. “Thanks for the warning,” I muttered, preparing to summon my magic next. “Gods-damned prick.” I’d just pulled in my power when Wrath came blasting back. He smashed into the fortress wall, putting a slight dent in the stone. He was furious as he stood, brushing himself off. I didn’t think it had anything to do with the disheveled state of his clothing, though Wrath was particular about it. I swore. “He warded his circle?” I guessed. Wrath nodded. “And he better have a damned good reason for it.” My brother stormed off, likely preparing to magic himself back to House Wrath. I had little doubt he’d be sending a missive to our secretive brother, and it wouldn’t be a thinly veiled threat. When Wrath’s sin ignited, we could only hunker down and prepare for war.

“I’m looking for anything that might cause the dragons to go mad,” I said. I didn’t miss the way he flinched. The bastard was definitely keeping secrets. “You wouldn’t happen to know a spell or curse like that?” “Why would I?” “Your mother-in-law is currently in your dungeon, is she not?” I asked. “Perhaps she’s mentioned something along those lines or boasted about using a spell on a Prince of Sin.” “Sursea hasn’t spoken a word in nearly a month.” He looked out at the courtyard below. Hunters hurriedly took shelter, their focus darting to the sky. “You don’t need a witch to break a curse.” “I’m aware. But I do need to know what spell was used or who the target is.” “Then I’ll leave you to it.” “Not so fast.” I was before him in the next breath, my dagger pressed to his jugular. “I want to speak with Sursea. Now.” Pride schooled his features into a mask of forced politeness. “Very well. I grant permission for a five-minute visit. Meet me in my courtyard now.” I dropped my blade. “After you, then.” With a mockery of a bow, Pride magicked himself to his circle. I summoned my own magic and in a crackling blaze of fire and smoke materialized beside my brother right outside his castle. We weren’t exactly alone. Pride’s helmet-wearing guards stood in a circle around us, blocking my view of the grounds. His smile was anything but friendly when I raised my brows at our greeting squad of doom. “Make haste, dear brother. By my count, you’ve got four minutes remaining.” “You haven’t ...

My stranger turned to me, and for one drawn-out moment, I forgot how to breathe. He dragged his attention over me, and I swore I felt his hunger turn ravenous through the layers of magic and the mask keeping his true face from me. For the first time, I wished to see him. To read each flicker in his gaze, to decipher exactly what he was thinking and feeling. To ink it permanently into my memory. Which was not something I should desire tonight or ever. He was looking at me so intensely, I wondered if he’d somehow figured out how to see through the magic disguising me. “You’re dangerously beautiful.” “Dangerous in what way?” “In the way that I can’t stop thinking about you.” A pleasant flush came over me. “I can’t decide if that’s very good or very bad.” He laughed, the sound so rich and dark it was addicting. “Neither can I.”

“I also spend an unfortunate amount of time wondering what you look like, the color of your hair, the shade of your eyes. I want to know who you are, what occupies your days.” He paused, as if waiting to see if I would offer any information up. Clever, clever male. I gave him a coy smile of my own. “You’ll need to try much harder to wrangle secrets from me.” “Very well, Lady F.” His playful grin turned downright sinful.

Erudite Monroe from House Sloth nestled into a corner, her nose pressed into a book. Ava Rice and Omen Seagrave, of House Greed and House Envy, respectively, were on opposite ends of the room, staring daggers at each other. Which wasn’t surprising since rumors suggested their fathers were at war after a bad gambling debt was called in. Allure Whitlock of House Lust held court with almost every reporter, save for Ryleigh. And the House Wrath suitor, Cobra Pierce, was born into a legendary line of fighters. No proof ever came to light, but there were whispers about her previous lover dying mysteriously on a hunting trip hosted by her father. I made a mental note to not get on her bad side. Ryleigh stood across the room, chatting with the House Pride suitor, Miss Vanity Raven. She exuded her sin of choice in all ways—from her haughty expression to her shimmering pale locks, Vanity didn’t suffer from lack of confidence in any capacity.

Blasted Axton was already seated at the head of a large horseshoe-shaped table. I quickly averted my gaze once I caught Sophie’s disapproving scowl from the seats to his right. The dining chamber had been turned into an enchanting forest, complete with real frostberry trees in giant urns, their branches lit with glittering Fae orbs, and wintery flower garlands running down the center of the giant table. I froze mid-step. It wasn’t a forest. It was an interpretation of the Seven Sins rooftop garden. I gave myself a mental shake and hurried along to my seat. I was imagining things. Blessedly, the prince didn’t seem to notice my steps falter.

“You have very strong opinions of me. Yet you’ve never actually asked what my motivations are.” I laced my hands in my lap. “It’s obvious.” “It is, is it?” He made a derisive noise, shaking his head. “Allow me to give you another perspective. Outwardly, yes, it seems obscenely extravagant, but this gown? It provided work for many members of my circle. Members who have previously refused any donations.” I sat straighter, eyes narrowed. He looked entirely sincere. “I’m listening.” He ticked them off, one by one. “The jeweler, the dressmaker, the cobbler, and even the several bolts of fabric the dressmaker had purchased. Each of those establishments was given business, enough to hire more employees who’d needed work too. To you, what you’re wearing is wasteful, and I understand why you’d think that.” He gently plucked at the strands of diamonds, letting them fall through his fingers. He was careful to avoid touching my skin. “You see indulgence. What I see are the families who have earned income, doing what they love. The dressmaker hired two assistants who needed work; not only do they have employment now, but she can take on more clients. The jeweler’s family also made more off that one sale, for this one gown, than they do all year. If that means I’ve helped ease their burden, even by a fraction, then I can live with your opinion of me being less than flattering.” The slight buzz from the wine burned away. I searched his face, looking for any hint of deception. He kept his...

“When you take the gown off tonight, I hope you at least acknowledge the good it’s done. You are free to donate it and do what you like with the coin.” He started to walk away, then stopped. His hands curled into fists, and after another long pause, he finally turned back to me. “Just to be clear, I didn’t so much as kiss any of the suitors tonight. I was too busy thinking of how distractingly beautiful you are in that gods-forsaken dress to indulge anyone else’s desires.” The confession looked like it cost him dearly. While I struggled to come up with a response through the maelstrom of emotions cycling through me, he offered a slight bow, then left.

“By blood and by choice, I bind thee to me, for six weeks hence. My wants are your wants, my desires, your desires. I will not act against your best interests, and you won’t act against mine. In this, we are united. Bound by honor, or death do us part.” She repeated the words, and when she finished, I felt the magic sizzle between us as the binding snapped into place, tethering us. Adriana swore and staggered back a step, one hand pressed against her chest as if she’d physically felt the blow. I reached out to steady her, fingers brushing against her bare skin. A spark ignited between us in a blaze, setting off a chain of emotions that had me gasping for breath. And then, all the tension, all the temptation, detonated as if it had been held back for years instead of days and had finally been set free. I took one look at her, at the ravenous hunger in her gaze as she dragged it over me and came completely undone.

This attraction wasn’t created by magic; it simply felt like it.

By the time I’d gotten to the last button and slowly peeled his shirt back, I was ready for him to take me right there. He was a carving made flesh. The most exquisite thing I’d ever seen. I’d fallen for his mind first, so his powerful body was simply an added delight to marvel over. This stranger was entirely too good to be true. And yet here he stood, very real and just as wildly attracted to me. “Beautiful,” I whispered, tracing each hard ridge of his abdomen, my attention transfixed by him. His entire chest was quite literally a work of art—a tattoo of two silver dragons entwined, facing each other, took up nearly every inch of his skin. The way the dragons were positioned made it look like two halves creating a heart. Near the bottom of their serpentine bodies a banner bound them, a Latin phrase inked onto it. Nitimur in vetitum. We strive for the forbidden. Something like recognition slithered along the edges of my memory, but that was impossible since I’d never seen it before. Any peculiar feeling was forgotten the moment he shrugged the shirt completely off, allowing me a moment to admire him.

The glamour seemed to fade now, leaving only his mask in place. I hadn’t noticed before, probably because of the magic, but in his current position, I saw dragon wings tattooed across the whole of his back, cresting at the top of his shoulders.

Gabriel blasted Axton was my masked stranger. And the damned prince had just given me the

Axton dragged his attention back up, settling it on me. Hatred wasn’t shining in his eyes. It was something far worse. And infinitely more complicated. I needed to get away from him and that accursed look before we did anything else we’d regret tonight. Our minds were clearly addled from needing to overindulge in lust. He would never commit to— Dear gods. His bridal competition. My sister. I’d forgotten the blasted rake was hosting a very public competition to find a wife. All while carrying on in secret with me. He kept his gaze steady on me, watching as I sorted through feelings and facts. He didn’t appear to be struggling with the truth; his breathing was calm, his posture relaxed. And all at once I understood. I had been so wrong. So very wrong. He wasn’t shocked by my identity. He knew. From the moment I walked onto the roof wearing the cloak he’d had made. The gods-damned demon had set this up days before. That was why he’d sent the modiste. It wasn’t because of our run-in at the market. It was to prove my identity for whatever he’d plotted next. And whatever that plot entailed, I’d entered an unbreakable blood oath with him.

I dove over the edge of the roof after Adriana, plummeting as hard and fast as I could, willing my body to break any laws of nature daring to stand in my way. The old gods were smiling down on a sinner like me for once. My arms banded around her, catching her up against my body seconds before she crashed to the ground. Once I had her, my wings erupted from their magical tether, tearing from my back in a thunderous clap that rent the air, silencing the merriment of the patrons drinking outside. The sudden intensity of my wingbeats displaced snow from the ground in a punishing sheet that whipped up and out, covering the unlucky few standing nearby. Anyone looking on would know I’d been at the Seven Sins tonight—there was no mistaking my cobalt-and-silver dragon wings. The scandal sheets would be all abuzz in the morning, given that the suitors had moved into the castle tonight. That was an issue for another time. “Are you all right?” I asked, shouting over the wind that violently whipped us. Adriana swung her legs around my hips, locking her ankles behind my back, pressing herself against me as we shot upward, leaving the night district a mere speck of glowing lights twinkling far below before being swallowed by the storm. Most inconveniently, my cock was still hard as granite.

“You do realize we’ll need to strip naked and curl around each other for warmth should you actually get hypothermia?” Her teeth rattled together. “The fire will be fine.” Another lie. I pushed to my feet, towering over her. Any attempt at maintaining a pleasant tone vanished. The demon prince came out to play. “Take the damned dress off, Adriana. Unless you secretly want to be cuddled up with me naked. Then by all means, keep the thing on. I’ll gladly nurse you back to health. You can even put the mask back on if you’d like.”

“Will the bond interfere with the competition?” she asked. “I know there’s a physical… aspect to it.” “That aspect is only there because of mutual attraction,” I said. “The magic doesn’t create it. Only enhances what both parties already feel. If only one of us felt certain… urges… the other wouldn’t be affected. It is based on consensual emotions, always. The bond took, which meant we both desired it. I couldn’t have forced the connection, even if I wanted to.”

The truth was the bond was going to make things very interesting over these next several weeks. If either of us traveled too far from the other, physical ramifications would occur.

“We suit well enough physically. And we’re bound by oath now. It makes sense to see how this plays out.” I downed the last of my brandy, relishing the burn. “Will you join the competition and become my suitor?”

“It’s a little late for buyer’s remorse, darling. The oath can’t be broken.” “But it doesn’t mean I have to be a suitor. And I certainly won’t ruin my sister’s chance at happiness.” “Need I remind you that your will is bound to mine for the next several weeks?” “I do not recall agreeing to become one of your suitors.” “You didn’t have to. And I quote, ‘My wants are your wants, my desires, your desires.’” His smile was far too pleased for the situation. “Devil’s in the details, as they say.” “Never bargain with a demon prince,” I muttered, the familiar motto no longer seeming like a silly fable mothers told their children to keep them out of trouble.

I guaranteed, whatever was happening with the dragons, or whatever other darkness the princes were frightened of, had something to do with a hexed object.

White flames scorched the wall beside us as Envy tossed me inside, then kicked the door shut. He reached down and pulled the little dragon from where I still clutched it to my chest, swearing he’d see to it. The little creature flapped its feathered wings, iridescent gaze locked on mine. “Safe,” I said, not caring if I was speaking to a dragon in a soft tone in front of my brother. It blinked down at me, tucking its wings in tight. Then it looked at Envy and sank its teeth into his hand. My brother cursing the old gods for creating tyrant baby dragons was the last thing I saw before the world went dark.

“Your oath with the journalist is a problem.” I’d been waiting for him to bring it up. Figured the bastard would choose the perfect time. I couldn’t simply get up and leave and he damned well knew it. “Bond or not, I’ve been saying she’s a problem for a decade.” My poor attempt at levity missed its mark. “You got hurt because you’re not operating at full power when you’re too far away from her.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” “Maybe this time.” He exhaled. “But what happens when the dragons are farther north? You’ll need to take her to Merciless Reach to avoid losing power next time.” “Absolutely not.” I wouldn’t bring Adriana anywhere near the dragons until the situation was settled. “I’ll make do.”

“You keep rubbing your chest. Are you in pain?” There was little sense in lying. “Yes. But I can’t afford a tonic.” She strummed her fingers on the table. “When did the feeling begin?” “On the walk over here. It’s been a stressful day.” “Describe the sensation. Sharp pains. Shooting, prolonged.” I eyed her warily. “You’re awfully curious.” “Perhaps we’re both a little feline in our ways.” I laughed softly. “It feels like someone’s winding a thread around my heart, trying to lead me to them.”

My attention slid to Adriana. Our bond unexpectedly hummed as I took her in, and I wondered if she felt the corresponding sensation. I flexed my hand, wishing I had a weapon in it and was on the hunt, burning off whatever this growing hunger was.

Book lovers made secretly devious bedmates. No wonder Sloth’s House was a library.

Sil reared back, his eyes going vacant. I unleashed the only magic that might work. “Set the hatchling down now.” My voice echoed with the full power of a Prince of Hell. Silvanus wrenched his head back and forth, his pupils dilating as he fought the magic command. In some strange twist of magic, I was in his head, seeing through his eyes. His mind. Red tinged everything and as I stared at myself through his eyes, feeling off-kilter and disoriented, I was suddenly in a memory. At first all I saw was a shadowy figure. Then the color blue. It seemed like the disjointed ramblings of madness, but it gave me excellent insight into how his mind was working. Perhaps it could be something we could study. I was about to wrench myself out of his head when the shadowy face finally came into focus. Everything in me stilled. Adriana. Silvanus was fixated on her as if under some primal command to seek and destroy. Suddenly, he ducked his head and charged, ripping me from his mind.

The tiny dragon crawled up my neck, nuzzling me, its icy snout causing a slight shudder. I tipped my head back, looking up at the cold night sky as I petted the dragon. “Well,” I said to it. “Your name is Vexus. You little vexing troublemaker.” He bleated excitedly from his grand adventure, the heathen. He belonged to House Gluttony through and through.

I held the dragon close and launched us back into the air, my mind already spinning in several directions. Once I took the hatchling back to its temporary nest, I’d spend the rest of the night researching any information I could find on dragon fixations. That Silvanus had been thinking of Adriana nonstop was a troubling revelation. The simple explanation might be that he’d seen her in the dungeon and she had somehow imprinted on him. Or maybe it had something to do with the blood oath we’d sworn. There was another reason I couldn’t ignore. I couldn’t stop from wondering, once again, if this was all tied into my private curse. If I even had one at all. I still couldn’t tell what it was, or if I was simply unlucky.