Page 47 of Oath of Rebellion

He frowned at the old woman and held it up, just out of her grasp. "Swear an oath that it will not be used to harm, hurt, or kill anyone."

She sighed and shook her head. "I can't do that, but I'll swear that it will only fight against evil in the realm."

A hot wind swirled around them and then she said. "There. Are you happy now? Come on, you don't have all night. It's already past the witching hour."

He handed it over, and she slipped it into a knitting bag at her feet. When she just started rocking again, he rubbed his temples and scratched his scales.

"Well?"

She chuckled. "Still impatient, I see. At least that hasn't changed. I knew you had the venom just as I know you. It's time for you to go to the heart of the forest and find your destiny."

He nodded, picturing the blank spot on the map. "Hartsgrove?"

"Exactly."

"But not even the druids go there. It's forbidden." Olive had warned him away from that place for years. He'd tried a few times decades ago when he'd been a rash youth. But the forest had stopped obeying his command, and he'd been forced to give up.

She pointed the vial at him. "Are you going to let that stop you?" She snorted. "I thought not. The protections that have been in place for hundreds of years are no match for you. Once you reach Hartsgrove, you will find your home. There, you will find love. There, you will break what you think is a curse."

He blinked and rubbed his chin. "What will I find when I get there?"

She arched a brow. "Answers. Eat the golden apple and find answers. Come see me when you're done. I will tell you more after your blinders have been removed."

He frowned, feeling his feet loosen. "You—I," He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You mean to tell me that I could've broken this curse years ago if I'd only gone into the most dangerous part of the forest and eaten a snack?"

She began to rock again, unwilling or unable to answer him. His hands fisted at his sides and he spun on his heel, stumbling the first step.

Then the old woman said, "Oh and one more thing. Ask Olive about fated mates among dragons, will you?"

His spine straightened, and pressure built on his chest. His mind swirled. Why would she have him ask Olive about dragons when they'd been hunted down and driven from the land hundreds of years ago?

He raked a hand along the side of his head. The memories and stories of his birth made his gaze shoot to the old woman with raised brows. He'd hatched from an egg, but only Olive and Scarlet knew that. Olive had always told him he was a drakin, and he needed to avoid the royal family.

Hells, he needed to avoid regular people too, as they'd force him into politics or try to take out their anger at the king on him.

He'd always been so careful to keep his head covered with the hood and cloak. For years, he'd thought about what kind of being he was. The scales, the poisonous breath, the venom barbed tail. He'd tried to learn all about the drakin royal families of Glathen and Busparia, had read all the books he could find in the nearby villages and towns. He hadn't had the money to search the magic school's libraries further into Busparia.

There had been no records of anyone with similar magic and abilities to his. But if he was a dragon, not a drakin...

"Is it—am I..."

She chuckled again. "Talk to Olive. Tell her I said hello and the time is right. Now run along back to the tavern. Your men are there, and they need you to save the princess."

She held up the vial and waved it at him. "The men that attacked her a few days ago? The one that was hit with your venom is dead, and the other two are running for their lives. The attack wasn't random. You must protect her."

Knox' heart jumped at the mention of the princess. What did the princess need saving from? Who was behind the attack? He strode away, his mind reeling between the princess and dragons.

Only the royal bloodlines were descended from dragons, from both Glathen and Busparia. Eirwyn was one of them, the darling drakin princess whom everyone loved.

Drakins were supposedly weaker than actual dragons. Yet the king was one of the most powerful mages in the land. All drakins were. It was why they ruled.

What would they do if they realized he was one of them too? Would Eirwyn accept him, scales and all? Would her brother try to assassinate him?

No, first thing's first. He had to find answers and that included finally identifying what fucking species he was.

His head began to hurt as the questions and possibilities went through his mind. He walked into the tavern, several people singing a bawdy ballad by the hearth.

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