Page 132 of Rescued By The Dragon

Amara stayed a few feet in front of me, her nerves evident with each step she took. My dragon could pick up on her quirks more so than before. She halted at the edge of the alley and stared.

The building was in shambles.

It’d been hit the most out of all the buildings on that strip.

Maybe they picked up her scent there and demolished it out of spite. Either way, her father’s restaurant was gone.

“My father loved that restaurant. He put his heart and soul into it,” she whispered. “Helena won’t rebuild it. I’m sure siren attacks aren’t covered on her insurance, and even if, she didn’t care about it like he did.”

“I’m sorry, Amara.”

She wiped a tear from her cheek. “It hurts, but maybe it’s for the best. Helena always held that over my head, and now, it’s gone.”

“Amara,” I whispered, turning her to face me. “Your father wasn’t that restaurant. He was more than that. He loved you, and right now, he’d be happy that you're safe.”

Amara blinked her baby blue eyes. “You’re right. Can we go check on Sasha? I haven’t heard from her since all of this happened.”

“Of course.”

Amara led me toward a part of the kingdom I hadn’t visited in years. It was mostly untouched, the homes nicer than some we passed on the way. The lights were on in the house she stopped at, but she didn’t knock.

“What’s the matter?”

Amara opened her mouth and then shut it.

"Amara?" I asked again.

“I’m afraid your father told the kingdom bad things about me. What if they don’t let me inside?”

Tilting Amara’s chin up, I stared at her innocent face. She’d been dragged through so much, and her fear of her best friend not loving her anymore hurt me.

“Sasha is your best friend, Amara. She’ll understand.”

Amara gathered her courage and pulled away to knock on the door.

Seconds passed before the door opened and a woman who I assumed was Sasha’s mother answered. Her dark eyes widened and she pulled Amara in for a hug. “Sasha! Get down here!”

Amara began to cry into her shoulder.

I realized that she was more of a mother to Amara than Helena had ever been.

Her gaze met mine over Amara’s shoulder and she reached out for my hand to squeeze it.

A thunder of footsteps boomed down a staircase to the right. Sasha halted at the bottom step. “Amara,” she said in a relieved whisper. She raced over and pulled her into a hug.

“Come on inside,” her mother said. “I’m Karen.”

I stepped into their house with the ceiling close to the top of my head.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Sasha whispered. “I was so scared when we heard about everything. The King said you two are leaving—,”

“We are,” I said.

Karen’s dark gaze shifted toward mine. “Are you not taking the throne?”

“My father doesn’t want me here. He is mad that his army fought against the sirens,—,”

“He blames me,” Amara said. “Dorran is in the middle of my drama.”

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