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Two brawny-looking guards held me in place while other bigger and meaner-looking guards searched Zachary. The tip of my father’s sword pressed against his neck as the guards tossed each hidden blade out of reach. Zachary had enough weapons on him to wage a one-man war.
When they finished the search, they forced him to his knees, and my father withdrew his sword, sheathed it, and glared at the two of us. He glanced at the array of sharp cutlery and his nostrils flared. He kicked the knives to the far side of the room with a grumble and started pacing.
No one knew what Zachary was.
No one knew he was more deadly than all those weapons combined.
And if they did, he would not live through the night.
Zachary remained still under the inspection, but I could tell a storm was brewing inside him. He kept his head low, but the muscles in his jaw jumped every so often, as though he were grinding his teeth. His cheeks remained flush, but he refused to look at my father as the man paced the room, muttering under his breath like a crazy lunatic.
The fae were escorted into the room, and King Henrick turned toward them, pointing an accusing finger.
“What have you been teaching her out in those woods?” he bellowed. “I found her with this... this heathen in the pantry.”
“Do not yell at my family.” I tried to yank out of the guard’s grip, but they held fast. If the fae got close enough, they would smell the dragon blood, just as they had when they found me after my adventure in the Dragon Realm.
Zachary glanced at me. His eyes had changed enough for me to fear he was close to losing control. If Zachary shifted, he was likely to be struck down before he could do any damage.
The fae stopped short and sniffed the air. Their eyes widened and they seemed to huddle together as their gaze shot to Zachary and then to me. It wasn’t my father’s overbearing growl that shocked them.
“He’s a—”
My heart lurched. “My boyfriend,” I blurted. “I met him near the fields on the outskirts of the enchanted forest. He’s a farm boy.”
All three of the fae tilted their heads like lost puppies.
“Farm boys don’t dance like he does.” My father pointed an accusatory finger at Zachary. “Who are you?”
Time slowed as Zachary looked up. His eyes shimmered, giving away his heritage. I twisted out of the guard’s grip as my father’s face went ashen. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then narrowed with malice. He reached for his sword.
“I’m the son of the king you killed,” Zachary declared in a low and menacing voice.
My father’s intent was written in the scowl on his face and his roar. All I could envision was my father’s sword slicing Zachary’s head clean off. I reacted, throwing myself between the two men despite the peril.
My father didn’t swing his sword in an arc like I imagined. If he had, he could have easily stopped before damage was done. No, he lunged as if fencing and the tip of his sword pierced my chest. Agony seared my entire body, and I screamed before my lungs closed. The blade retracted, and I glanced at the shock on my father’s face before I crumpled to the ground.
“No!” Zachary yelled and threw the guards off him with a guttural growl. He pulled me into his arms, cradling me as if I were the most precious thing in the world to him.
My father stepped closer.
“You old fool! Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” he snapped at my father and then focused on me as everyone else in the room started bickering with one another.
All the noise drowned into one high-pitched buzz. I couldn’t draw a breath. Hot tears slid from my eyes as I coughed. Red dots splattered on Zachary’s tunic.
“Hold on, Rory,” he whispered, and then pushed up his sleeve, exposing his arm. He put the soft flesh to his lips and dragon fangs appeared as he ripped his wrist wide open. He held his hand over me, and blood flowed from his torn skin right into my wound. “Please, just hold on,” he said as his sharp teeth disappeared again.
His blood mingled with mine and the minute it seeped into the sword wound, I bellowed my pain in a high, gurgling cry. My body wanted away from the scalding dragon blood, but I knew what this burning agony meant. I arched into it and kept eye contact with Zachary.
My father must have known, too, because he called off the guards, ordering them to move away from us. Even the fae were relegated to the far side of the room.
Even with the knowledge that he was healing me, concern reflected in Zachary’s eyes. It wrapped around my heart even more than his blissful kiss had. I panted until my body realized the foreign substance mingling with my blood was not harmful. Pain gave way to tingling, as though I were just waking from a long sleep and I sagged in Zachary’s arms.
The fae stepped closer to us.
Relief made me dizzy but as I blinked away the wooziness, the paleness in Zachary’s cheeks gave me a rush of adrenaline.
How much blood had he lost?
My gaze shot to his hand. Blood still flowed from his wound. It wasn’t like his dragon form that had healed just as quickly as my wounds had. He was in mortal danger. Marabel was close enough for me to reach out and grab her silk scarf. I wrapped the fabric around his shredded wrist and met his tired gaze.
“Thank you,” I said.
His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile and then he leaned into me. I held his wrist tight as hot panic flushed my skin. He couldn’t die. Not now. Not after saving my life.
“I’m okay.” I palmed his cheek. “You can heal yourself now.”
He smiled weakly. “I need some food and a nap,” he whispered and slumped on the ground next to me.
“Throw him in the dungeon,” my father barked and swiped his sword from the ground, sheathing it and sending me a hard expression.
The guards reached for Zachary, and I covered him, glaring at them. “Do not touch him,” I snarled like a rabid dog. We were both covered in blood, and I glanced at my father. “I swear, I will strike you down if you try to harm him again.”
“Put them both in the dungeon,” he amended his order.
This time I didn’t struggle in the guard’s grip. Instead, I walked close to the men hauling Zachary’s nearly unconscious form away. As they carted us out of the room, my father’s glare landed on the fae.