Page 91 of Cruelly Fated
ALLIE
Iswallowed the cry clawing its way up my throat. Kyon needed my strength now.
I tore strips from the hem of my dress. “Where are you bleeding most?” I asked. I forced my shaky legs to carry me forward.
He rose wearily, turned toward me, and pulled me in a heavy embrace. His chest expanded against mine, then he exhaled in slow, weary intervals. The fight had drained him.
“Can I examine your wounds?” I whispered.
“I’m afraid you can’t see the ones on my heart…” He eased back just enough to peer at me. I sucked in a breath. His severe green irises pulsed with a muted light swirling in their depths. Even the dragon grieved his fallen brother.
I scanned his bare torso and pressed a wad of fabric to a gash beneath his rib. Kyon hissed through clenched teeth. “It’s already healing.” He gently pried my hand away. The bleeding slowed to a drip…then sealed. I stared with awe as the torn flesh mended and bruises faded.
“Come,” he said softly, lifting my hand and lacing our fingers. He kissed my knuckles, then began leading us out of the maze. “I’m sorry I attacked you…again.” His brow furrowed. “If it weren’t for your quick thinking—”
I tugged on his arm, halting us, and pressed a finger to his lips. “You’re not to blame. This was your brother’s doing. And your father’s.” My heart hammered, part fury, part fear. He’d always spoken of the dragon king with reverence and restraint…and here I was, brazenly calling out his father. But I also spoke the truth that he needed to hear.
“My father…” Kyon growled, turning his face away. Silence stretched between us while he wrestled with whatever storm brewed in his mind. I stayed close, waiting. “He means nothing to me now. He’s got no rule over me. And no fucking right to tell me who I can be with.”
When he faced me again, his eyes burned with fierce emotion.
“I should’ve listened to the dragon when he called you our ‘mate.’ I thought the creature was delusional. A low fae can’t bond with a dragon. But a mixed fae…with dragon ancestry…can.”
I reached up, fingers brushing the back of my neck. The mark pulsed faintly beneath my skin. Cyrus, my father, was a powerful fae dragon shifter. I didn't know what to think...
“Why did you come to the ball?” he asked.
I lowered my gaze. “Lately I’ve realized that some things are worth fighting for, even if it leads to heartbreak.”
“Huh. May I ask who inspired such thoughts?” His tone had a teasing edge to it.
“Well, I spoke with Grandpa earlier today…”
Kyon’s chest rumbled with laughter. “So I have the old man to thank for saving my life.”
I peered at him. “I hardly see how—”
Kyon snatched my waist and flattened me against him. His other hand slid into my hair, fingers threading to the base of my skull as he tilted my face up and kissed me reverently. I let out a soft gasp, barely a breath, and he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried. My body lit up, every nerve tingling. Gods, I rose onto my toes without even thinking. This was wrong. I didn’t want to be his concubine. I broke the kiss and stepped back.
“What about your fiancée?”
Kyon lowered his forehead to mine. “There never was one. Catalina played along at my request. She’s been in love with Torian since we were kids. I didn’t want to ruin the ball formy mother by announcing I had no intention of marrying her, and Catalina agreed to keep up the charade. I was planning to confront my father tomorrow.”
He dragged his forehead gently across mine, side to side, before adding, “I was going to tell him I’d fallen in love with someone else.”
Warmth unfurled in my belly.
“He wouldn’t have taken that well,” I said.
Kyon arched a brow with a look that saidobviously. “He’d disown me and try to kill me—all in a single breath. You know, the usual family dynamics.”
I couldn’t tell whether he was joking.
“And you were going to do that?” I asked, still trembling from everything he’d just said. “For me?”
“Mm-hmm.” His voice dropped. “Forus.”
He kissed my forehead and resumed walking. I tried to match his pace, but my legs couldn’t keep up. He noticed with one glance, and scooped me into his blood- and sweat-slicked arms.
