Evangeline's heart still pounded in her chest, but it was no longer from the thrill of the chase. It was from a cold, unyielding dread. He was right. Her power, the one thing that had set her apart and made her both feared and untouchable, was useless against him. She was not a beast to be tamed, but a princess in a gilded cage. He hadn't broken her spirit, but he had shattered the illusion of her control.
She looked at him, at the face that was so beautiful it hurt to look at, and she felt a wave of despair. "You want me to believe that a man who can break my will with a single glance would ever truly want me for anything but my power?" she asked, her voice a strained whisper. "You have what you want. I am at your mercy. So, do with me what you will."
He released her, his hand falling from her cheek. He took a step back, giving her space, but his eyes never left hers. "No," he said, his voice softer now. "You are not at my mercy, Princess. And I do not want your obedience. I want your heart. I want you to walk by my side, not be dragged behind me."
He extended a hand to her, a gesture of peace. "Your kingdom betrayed you. Your own family sent you to your doom. But I… I see what they cannot. I see a defiant queen who will not be broken. I see a powerful woman who can tame the wild. I see a woman who is my equal. A woman who is my fated mate."
Evangeline looked at his outstretched hand. His words were a soothing balm, but her heart was a raw wound. Was this another trap? Another lie? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security before he made his move? Her mind, which had always trusted her instincts, was a whirlwind of doubt and suspicion.
She thought of her kingdom, the one that had cast her out, and the family that had used her. And then she looked at him, at the golden eyes that held both a dangerous fire and a deep loneliness. She had always been alone. But perhaps with him, she wouldn't be.
She slowly, reluctantly, reached for his hand. "I don't believe you," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "But I have nowhere else to go."
The prince's face lit up with a small, but genuine smile. He had her hand, and that was enough for now. He knew that winning her heart would be a long, difficult journey, but he was a patient man.
The Journey to a New Home
He took her hand, a simple gesture that felt monumental to Evangeline. She expected him to drag her, to force her to walk, but instead, he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. A gasp escaped her lips, but she didn't fight him. His warmth was a stark contrast to the cold fear that had been her constant companion.
He didn't walk; he glided through the forest, his steps silent and swift. He carried her to a hidden clearing where a sleek, black carriage stood, pulled not by horses but by two magnificent, pure-white winged creatures. They resembled horses in shape but had the powerful build of a dragon.
The royal guards, clad in gleaming armor etched with dragon scales, bowed their heads in unison. They didn't show surprise at her torn dress or her wild hair, only respect for their prince. He placed her gently inside the carriage, the plush velvet seats a luxurious comfort she hadn't felt in a very long time.
As they began their journey, the prince sat across from her, his presence filling the small space. He introduced himself formally. "I am Prince Arion, of the Dragon Royal Family."
Evangeline simply nodded, her eyes fixed on his. She was still guarded, but a tiny seed of curiosity had been planted. He was a paradox—fierce and intimidating, yet gentle and surprisingly patient.
When they arrived at the Dragon Kingdom, the sight took her breath away. The castle was carved into the side of a massive mountain, its spires reaching for the sky. It wasn't made of stone but of a crystalline material that shimmered with a rainbow of colors. Dragons of all sizes and colors soared in the sky above, their roars a symphony of power and freedom.
As they entered the grand throne room, two figures rose to greet them. The queen, a regal woman with a cascade of silver hair, and the king, a powerful man with a kind smile. They rushed to Arion, but their eyes were fixed on Evangeline, not with fear or pity, but with open affection.
"My son, you've finally returned," the queen said, her voice filled with relief. She hugged Arion tightly, then held out her hand to Evangeline. "And you, my dear. You must be the one he's been searching for."
Evangeline flinched, not from fear, but from the simple, genuine warmth of her touch. She looked at Arion, expecting a cold, possessive smirk. But his face was filled with pure, unadulterated happiness. This was not a power play; this was a family. For the first time, Evangeline felt a flicker of hope.
The king approached and placed a warm hand on Arion's shoulder. "My cold-hearted son," he said, his voice brimming with emotion. "You've finally found your heart."
*The Unspoken Contract*
The king's words hung in the air, a statement of fact that felt like a beautiful lie. Evangeline offered an awkward, tight-lipped smile, a poor attempt at a gesture she hadn't practiced in years. She couldn't bring herself to return the queen's warm touch. It was too much, too soon. A lifetime of suspicion had hardened her against such things, and she wasn't ready to let a stranger's kindness crack her shell.
"Thank you, Your Majesties," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
The king and queen seemed to understand. They exchanged a knowing look, a silent conversation that spoke of patience and an unspoken promise. They didn't press her for a warmer reaction or a show of gratitude. They simply accepted her as she was—a wary, guarded woman thrust into an unfamiliar world.
The queen then led her to a lavish suite of rooms, a place more beautiful and comfortable than any she had ever known. A series of maids, all of whom had glowing eyes and a soft-spoken demeanor, tended to her. They helped her out of her torn dress and into a soft, silken nightgown. They bathed her, combed her hair, and applied sweet-smelling oils to the scrapes and bruises she had earned during her escape.
Evangeline was overwhelmed. Every gesture, every kind word, felt like a debt she couldn't repay. It felt like a trap. The last time anyone had been this kind to her, it had been a calculated act to gain her trust. She felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. What was the catch? When would they spring the trap?
Arion, who had been a silent, watchful presence, came to her rooms before she retired for the night. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette a dark, powerful figure against the light.
"You look tired," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "I won't keep you."
"Why?" she asked, the question escaping before she could stop it. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"
He looked at her, his golden eyes filled with a sad understanding. "I want you to be safe, Evangeline. I want you to feel what it's like to be cherished. This isn't a prison. It's a sanctuary." He paused, his gaze dropping to her hands. "The only thing I ask is that you give yourself a chance to believe it."
He didn't touch her. He didn't force her. He simply gave her a choice, an unspoken contract of trust. He was offering her a sanctuary, but she was the only one who could truly unlock the door.