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However, Nyfain had clearly allowed himself to be doctored. He must’ve trusted them somewhat.

Still…

I started jogging in the direction of the castle, cutting over a bit after passing the location of those people. It didn’t take me long to hook up with his scent, leading through the trees. Three sets of boot prints lined the way, two people carrying a stretcher, and someone moving alongside them to tend the patient. And then, exactly where I’d expect based on their information, I found a little bloody patch next to a few tracks of bare feet in the earth, followed by dragon tracks leading toward the castle.

They hadn’t been lying after all.

I sagged and leaned against a tree while looking up at that majestic castle. What must it have been like in its heyday, when the grounds were alive and tended, nobles walked around in their finery, and dragons glided through the air? That must’ve been a real sight.

Go to him, my animal pleaded, relishing in his scent. Desperate to keep following it. He’ll be happy to see us. You heard that man. He expected us to follow.

He’ll be mad as hell. He wanted to cut ties, or what do you think it means

when someone drugs you to sleep, severs your connection, and leaves the equivalent of a breakup note?

He’ll be in a rage at first, sure, but it’ll turn to passion, just you watch.

Sure, passion immediately followed by regret and gruff barks not to touch him again. We’d been down that road. There was nothing for us there. Nyfain and his animal might want us, but they didn’t want to want us.

Time to go home. This was for the best.

As I turned, my animal fought for control. Fire blistered through my body, boiling my blood, and a shock wave of power blasted out of her, out of me. It was her cry for him. Her misery at them severing the connection.

This is not the way to act in a pseudo-breakup, I said, wrestling her. This is the way crazy girls act. Ask me how I know!

How do you know?

Because I’ve taken this road before, and it just makes a person look like a fool. Let it go! It’s for the best.

It doesn’t feel like it’s for the best, she cried.

It was never going to work. Now it’s over. We move on. We have things to

do.

She kept grumbling, but once I regained control, I pushed her away. I

needed to maintain a hard grip on logic. Because yes, I did want to flail and cry and run to him. I wanted us to fight and argue and fuck. I wanted to bask in his strength and power, and quake in fear and excitement from his imposing presence. The prince was like a crowded everlass plant, lethal and potent and unbearable in almost all situations…except for the one that would save your life.

But it wasn’t my life that needed saving—it was his. It was this kingdom’s. He needed to focus on that, not on this strange push-pull he felt with a foul-mouthed commoner.

A hollow feeling permeated my middle, but I ignored that, too.

I walked home, thinking about Nyfain and crowded everlass plants. Thinking of ways to cure the villages of the plague, thus giving Nyfain more time to break the curse. We didn’t have to be together to work together. Just like we didn’t have to get along to feel the rush of each other’s kiss…which I probably shouldn’t be thinking about either.

Letting go of him might be a little trickier than I’d thought…