“You learned all this from a book?” He sounded incredulous.
“From a few, actually. A book on everlass, one about myths and legends, a history of the kingdom, a book on faeries, and finally just trial and error. I definitely filled in a lot of blanks.”
He stared at me for a long moment, balanced on the balls of his feet. Braced for something, or against it, I couldn’t tell which. Whatever it was, the struggle seemed internal.
He gritted his teeth against a strong emotion. For once, he didn’t shove his drama at me, for which I was grateful.
“Our gardens aren’t up to par for a witch,” he said with disdain, but I could tell his heart wasn’t really in it.
“I hear sometimes it’s more work to be a dick than to be a nice guy,” I said softly.
“Do you know from experience?”
“No. For me it’s always been easier to be a dick. Nice people make me nervous.”
A genuine smile stretched across his face, softening his severe appearance. He’d definitely been a looker at one time, before all those scars crisscrossed his skin.
“If you can shift, why don’t you also heal?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me as I helped him work through the field, pruning and now lightly petting the plants. Very high-maintenance, this everlass. Worth the effort.
His expression fell, quickly turning broody again. His muscles tensed. “I can only shift because of sheer determination and a tight connection with my animal. I refused to lose my grip on him, and he was able to force the shift. Our bond is strong, and together we are more powerful than the demon king. We paid the price, though. The magic sheared off our wings with that first change, leaving us ground bound and disfigured. My healing ability is mostly suppressed, too. When I sustain wounds, they last. What woman would want to be stuck with a ground-bound dragon and a scarred man…” He turned and bent, his back to me. “If you had stabbed through my heart with that pocketknife, I would’ve died. You would’ve done what no one else has been able to do these last sixteen years. You would’ve ended this eternal nightmare.”
Pain lanced my heart. Not just for him, but for all of us. I wished someone could explain the curse to me so I could figure out a way to end it. So I could do more than fuss around with finicky plants.
“What would happen if I’d killed you?” I asked, walking closer to him.
“The curse would end and the demon king would finally rule. After that, he’d likely turn everyone into servants or just kill them outright. I don’t know.”
The breath left me. “Well…” I stood and looked down at the plants for a moment, hopelessness welling up. As always in my past, I only let myself dwell for a moment. I let the feeling sink in, and then I rallied. “Where there is life, there is hope. You’re not dead yet, and neither am I. We can find a way. What happens if we kill the demon king?”
He straightened and turned, his beautiful eyes devoid of anger for once. “The power he wields over us will be transferred to the next in line for the demon throne.”
“And if we kill them all?”
A grin worked at his lips. “We don’t have the resources for that.”
I braced my hands on my hips. “I’ll figure it out. There must be something that can be done.”
“Would you sacrifice your life to save this kingdom?”
His voice was thick, and it sounded like a trick question. Regardless, I didn’t need to think about the answer.
“Of course,” I said. “I thought I was sacrificing my life for my family. To do it for the kingdom would be an honor.”
“As easy as that, huh?”
“Yes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d be scared out of my mind, and I’d try to run and escape like I did last night, but in the end, I’d do it. Of course I would. Anyone would.”
He sneered. “Not anyone. Some people aren’t as honorable or selfless as you claim to be.” He squared up to me, rage once again burning brightly in his eyes. Something else glimmered there as well. Pain. “You should be more careful when you make such claims, princess. You don’t know of which you speak. There are worse fates than death.”
“Like being disfigured?” I met his stare. “Like losing your wings? At least you can change into your animal. Most people long to do that and can’t. What woman would love a wingless, scarred dragon? A woman who doesn’t give a shit about appearances, that’s who. Why don’t you ask what you’re really afraid of—what woman would like you for you? You’re not a noble anymore. You’re not a dragon anymore. You’re just as fucked as the rest of us. Sure, you prance around this castle and patrol the royal grounds, but the demons run this place. You’re in make-believe land if you think otherwise. The demons run your life as surely as they control the rest of us. The lines between commoners and royals have been blurred. Now it’s just you and me and everyone else. So, no, you’re not worried about being disfigured—you’re worried about the ugliness of your personality being the only thing people have to judge you by.”