Theo's vision blurred in and out of focus. He thought he saw a woman, a beautiful woman with lush brown hair and piercing eyes, dressed as a golden goddess. She was speaking to him. What was she saying? Something about drinking?

Was that what had happened? Had he had too much to drink? Yes, that must have been it.

His mouth was forced open. He felt the trickle of cool liquid. Maybe she was trying to get him to drink?

He grumbled, choking on the taste of it. This wasn't like his fine wines. It wasn't even like the harsher liquor he sometimes consumed. No, this burned as it went down and tasted gods awful.

He sputtered, coughing as he rolled over onto his side to brace against the wracking of his lungs. "Gods," he moaned. "What the hell happened to me?"

It was more of a rhetorical question.

Still, she answered. "You were poisoned, Theo. Quite badly. Honestly, I'm surprised it didn't kill you."

He blinked, sitting up. Already, he felt less groggy, more alert. Must have been whatever she'd made him drink. The realization sank in. "Poisoned?"

"Yes. My father laced your wine with copious amounts of dragon's bane. Although, it's your fault for drinking in the first place. If you hadn't consumed so much, well, now isn't the time to scold you. I'll save that for later."

He huffed. "I think the way I feel at the moment is punishment enough."

"True." She crouched, brushing her hands over his face, his hair. He hummed. Everywhere her fingers touched, static leapt between them.

"Feels...good," he mumbled.

"We don't have much time. Can you contact your companions?"

He stared at her, taking in her gown. Gold. Like the color of his scales. "So...pretty," he breathed.

Gold, like the color humans wore for their weddings—

He shot to his feet. The cell began to spin and he staggered before catching his balance. "Sophie! Tell me...tell me you didn't?!" His lungs expanded and contracted, but he couldn't seem to get enough air in. She'd done it, hadn't she? She'd married Hawthorne. She'd—

Her hands shot out, reaching for his face, cupping it. Her skin was so warm, the perfect balm. "Deep breath's Theo. We don't have time for this. I disappeared on the eve of my wedding, but any moment, my father will see that I'm missing. He...he said he'd drag me to my wedding, against my will, if he must."

White, hot rage shot through his body, searing his skin. Whatever remained of the dragon;s bane effects burned away. "I will kill him for this."

"No!"

"You would protect him?"

"I wouldn't dare protect him. But...you cannot just march up there and kill him, Theo. You are the prince. People expect you to be rational." Her words made him grumble, but she was right. "We do this by the law. Besides, he admitted to me that he drugged you, that he intended to kill you. My word might not be worth much proof as a lord's daughter, but..." She bit her lip. He couldn't help but fix his gaze on her mouth, watching the motion. "As Dragonwall's future princess, I think they'd take me seriously, don't you?"

"Sophie," he breathed. He dragged her against him, crushing his mouth against hers, kissing her hard. She gave in for just a moment, a brief instant of bliss, before pushing him away.

"No. There's no time, Theo! We must go, now. I don't want my father coming to search for me."

"Right."

"Besides, I'm still angry at you, for what you did."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so godsdamned sorry." He held her in place, held her gaze so that she would truly know.

"I..." Her throat bobbed. "I know. Now, come on, let's get out of here."

As she led him from the cell, he took stock of their surroundings. They were in the dungeons, the same place he'd found Edric, which felt like ages ago. "Did you—?!"

"Kill them? Yes."

Two guards were on the floor, arrows through their eyes, throats cut for good measure.

"I had to use my old bow, not ideal, but I made do."

He could only gape. Gods, who was this woman? This treasure?!

"Besides, they're part of the mercenaries he hired. They're not even from Dragonwall. I might have thought twice if it was our own people. I think our own stopped wanting to serve in his guard ages ago. Didn't want to have to go against the rebellion when half the members were their own family."

He huffed. "Makes sense."

They climbed over the dead bodies and moved through the dungeons. He spotted several other dead guards. Each of them had been killed similarly. She was efficient. Then again, he'd expect nothing less from a rebellion leader.

"Are you well enough to...you know, tell your friends about what happened?"

He silently swore. He'd been so caught up by her—in her—that he'd forgotten. He reached out to them, only to hear their immense responses of relief.

"Godsdamn! There you are!" Amil all but roared in his mind.

"We've been searching for you for hours," Fallon grumbled. "You better have a good excuse."

"I do. Lasker poisoned me with dragon's bane, then hid me in the dungeons," he explained. "That godsdamned fool thought he would get away with it too."

There were ripples of fury in their shocked responses.

"His actions are treasonous," Idris spat.

"Treasonous, indeed," Theo agreed, following Sophie up a flight of stairs. "If it weren't for Sophie, I might still be down there."

"I should have known he was bluffing," Amil added, rage filling his voice, "when we asked him of your whereabouts earlier. That piece of filth. He's not fit to rule this dragondom, let alone live."

"Are you going to do something about it?" Fallon asked. "Or am I?"

"Oh, I plan to. Meet me at the wedding. It should be happening...right about now." He reached for Sophie's hand as they made their way through the lower servant levels of Lasker's keep. "Sophie, how do you feel about crashing your own wedding?"

"I think I rather like that idea," she decided. Gods, she looked amazing, bow slung over her shoulder, daggers sheathed at her side. Her golden gown billowed behind her as she walked.

"Good. I want you to pretend you're going through with it," he said. She gave him a sharp look. As if she worried he might actually let her marry this man. "Come now, sweetheart, you think I'd let another man have you?"

"Well, no. Of course not." She lifted her chin.

"Good." He leaned in close, letting his lips brush over her ear, felt her shiver at the contact. "Because I will not part with you for anything. I don't care that you're mad at me, that you haven't forgiven me yet. I don't care that I infuriate you. That I frustrate you. That there are times you want to slap me—that you have slapped me. We will move past those things, although, I do like when you scratch me with those sharp claws of yours. You can do whatever you wish to me. Shred my ego, my confidence, my entire world. So long as you remember one thing. You. Are. Mine."

They emerged at the edge of the main courtyard where people were gathered. Giant awnings had been erected to provide shade. They were laden with strands of floral garland. At the center of the courtyard, Lord Lasker stood beside Hawthorne, speaking in low tones. There were others gathered around them as well, like Sophie's brothers, showing signs of mild concern over the bride's lateness.

Had Lasker already put the pieces together? That his daughter was missing? That she'd freed the prince? He glanced around, looking for her maids, for Gundry. None of them were present.

"They must be panicking," Sophie whispered, keeping to the shadows. She lifted her bow and quiver from her shoulder, depositing it behind a pillar. Then she handed him her daggers. He stowed them in his belt. "My maids must be trying to figure out where I disappeared to."

"Which means your father doesn't yet know," he decided.

"Gundry must have bought me time, by not allowing them to run straight to him."

"Good. Well, then. Let's get on with it, shall we?" He gave Sophie's hand a final squeeze, then slipped deeper into the shadows to hide himself. From here, he had the perfect view.

He watched with awe, with pride, as she stepped from the shadows and into view.

"Am I too late for my own wedding?" Sophie asked, her voice ringing with confidence. A ripple of heads turned, until everyone was looking at her, many of them gasping. Yes, she was worth gasping over. However, the thought of her here, in a wedding gown that wasn't designed for their own mating ceremony did little to assuage his frustration over the matter.

Lasker spun to face her, his skin turning a livid shade of red. She might have been late, but the lord of the keep wasn't about to point that out in front of a crowd. She was the bride, after all. This was supposed to be her day.

The look of immense relief on Hawthorne's face made Theo's jaw ache. Was he in on it? Had he helped the lord orchestrate the whole thing? Poison him with dragon's bane so that he wouldn't stop the wedding?

He thought of his promise to Hawthorne, his threat. Thought of how he'd promised to kill the man if he forced Sophie against her will. Hawthorne was lucky that she'd changed the game, or it was very likely he'd be dead by the end of the day.

"Ready when you are," Fallon announced, projecting an image of their location. The opposite side of the courtyard, hidden in the shadows.

"Good, hold your position. I'll make my entrance soon enough."

Sophie strode through the parted crowd straight for her father and Hawthorne. Behind them, the officiate stood, hands clasped behind his back, a robe of white doing little to hide his meaty frame.

"Where are your maids?" Lasker asked, rather than demanding a reason for her lateness. He was probably simply relieved that she was here at all.

"Oh, I seem to have lost them. But...let's continue anyway. No reason to hold things up. I wouldn't dare make my future husband wait a moment longer than he must." She turned a sweet smile on Hawthorne. The man probably didn't notice that it wasn't the kind of sweet that tasted sugary on the tongue. It was a sickly sweet, the kind that would rot him from the inside out the moment he let his guard down.

"Gods, Lady Claws," he muttered under his breath. Seeing her turn her ire on others was entirely too satisfying.

Her brothers must have suspected something was wrong. Torin kept looking between Sophie and their father with a furrowed brow, indecision crossing his features. Whereas Soren just looked at Sophie, chewing on his lower lip in concern. Good, at least her brothers weren't a lost cause.

"Yes, let's continue then," Lasker said, nodding at the officiate. He stepped back, allowing Sophie to get into position. She held her hands out for Hawthorne, who took them.

Theo's fist clenched. He hated the thought of anyone touching her. But he held his body motionless as the officiate opened with a welcoming speech, then began taking the couple through a repetition of vows. Human weddings were far more involved than a drengr's mating ceremony, where words were chanted and the business was over and done in a few minutes. He preferred it that way.

This one felt as if it stretched forever. Or maybe that was simply due to his nerves. He exhaled when the officiate finally reached the end and said, "Now, if there are any who would contest this wedding, speak your piece." The proclamation was made with the officiant looking for all the world as if such a thing would never happen. Even Hawthorne and Lasker didn't bother turning to the audience.

Theo stepped from the shadows. "I contest! There will be no wedding today. In fact, I'm here to make an arrest." He strode forward as a burst of muttering started up. He felt more than saw his four companions stride into position behind him, flanking him.

"What—is the meaning of this?!" Lasker looked shocked. He was so out of touch. Had the man really believed he could best a drengr? A young drengr, yes, but a drengr nonetheless. It was a sign that he'd had far too much power for far too long, and had gotten drunk off of it.

"The meaning? Well, I'll tell you! You poisoned my wine with dragon's bane. You locked me in your dungeons. You threatened to kill me. Then you forced your daughter's hand in marriage. I might not have had the authority to act against you before. But now? Now I'll have you arrested for treason."

"I did not such thing," he roared, the epitome of an angry, falsely accused lord. It was good acting. Most probably believed him.

"But you did," Sophie said, letting her voice ring loud and clear. "You admitted to it just before coming down to see me married."

Lasker huffed. "As if anyone would believe the word of a silly little girl."

"They might not believe the word of a silly little girl," Theo said, his voice loud and authoritative. "But they will believe the word of my mate. Dragonwall's future princess." There were gasps from his companions behind him. Their obvious shock. He ignored that for now and said, "Come here, Sophie. I cannot stomach you touching that man for a moment longer."

The courtyard fell completely quiet.

"Your mate?!" Lasker scoffed, failing to notice the way his four companions fanned out to surround him. To cage him in. "What a convenient lie—"

There came a rush of wings overhead. A moment later, two massive shapes plummeted towards the courtyard. People screamed, backing into the surrounding corridors to get under cover, leaving the rest of them exposed in the open. They didn't flee, though, and he couldn't blame them.

Prime gossip was hard to come by. Getting a front row seat? Even harder.

Theo looked up and a grin spread across his lips. He recognized the bodies of the both drengr, one with deep purple scales, the other with sapphire blue. "How nice of you to show up just when the party has already started."

"You always do love a good party, Prince," Kardin mused, sounding almost entertained. "Wouldn't want to miss this one."

"I take it my father sent you?"

"Who else?" Kardin asked.

"We tried to reach you earlier," Jacek, one of his father's other shields, grumbled.

"Oh, that. I was...temporarily unreachable."

"Obviously," Jacek, scoffed.

He didn't have the best relationship with his father's six. At least, not since he'd matured and stopped living the way his parents wanted him to. So it didn't surprise him that Jacek, the least patient of his father's six, was short tempered.

There was no more time for chatting. Both drengr shifting midair, so that they landed on human feet. The soft thuds of their boots sounded in the otherwise silent courtyard.

A quick glance at Lasker showed him looking around, as if plotting an escape route. "Fallon, Idris," Theo barked. "Take Hawthorne and Lasker into custody."

His companions rushed forward, quicker than either human could comprehend.

It was Kardin who said, voice raised, "By order of King Tristan and Queen Lena, you are hereby under arrest, for suspicion of breach of contract."

Theo could only huff. So much for sending a document to fix the issue. Why use a piece of paper when two shields would be more efficient?

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