The Rescue.
The thundering hooves of Arion and Ezra's horses were the only sound in the night. Their desperate ride, fueled by a shared, urgent fear, was a blur of darkness and speed. But just as they reached the edge of the Whispering Forest, a thick, unnatural fog descended upon them, swallowing the moonlight and their path. It was a beautiful, divine-looking fog, filled with seductive whispers that promised to grant their deepest desires.
"My love... my king..." Arion heard a ghostly voice murmur in his ear. It was a perfect imitation of Evangeline, a siren's call to lure him into a false sense of security. He almost fell for it. But the pulsating purple light of the map, a constant beacon in the dark, kept him on the right path.
"It's a trap!" Ezra's voice, a low, commanding rumble, cut through the fog. "Don't listen to them! It's an illusion!"
He too was hearing things. The voices of his people, his family, all pleading for him to return home. But he knew the truth. His family's pleas were just a lie. He focused on the map, on the little purple light that was the only truth in this sea of deception. They rode through the fog, ignoring the whispers and the illusions, their hearts a constant, rhythmic drum against the horses' thundering hooves.
Back in the hut, Seraphina's cruel laughter echoed in the small space. She watched with a sadistic glee as the two brutes, spurred on by her promise of a reward, advanced on Evangeline. They were laughing, their grimy hands reaching for her. She was a silent, unmoving defiance, her purple eyes burning with an incandescent fury.
"Go on," Seraphina purred, her eyes gleaming with a manic pleasure. "Teach the little beast a lesson. She thinks she's untouchable. Show her what happens when she defies a queen."
The brutes, their movements slow and methodical, reached for Evangeline's face. But just as their fingers were about to touch her, the door of the hut was kicked off its hinges. The force of the blow was so immense it shattered the wood, sending splinters flying.
Arion and Ezra stood in the doorway, their faces masks of cold, furious rage. They were a vision of pure vengeance, their clothes torn and their bodies bruised from their frantic ride, but their eyes held a fiery determination that would make the devil himself tremble.
Seraphina's triumphant laughter died in her throat. Her eyes widened in a horrified shock as she looked from one prince to the other. "No... no, this is impossible!" she whispered, her voice a strangled gasp. "You were supposed to be lost!"
Arion didn't answer. He simply looked at Evangeline, his golden eyes filled with a terrifying, protective fury. He saw her bruised and battered face, her bound wrists, and her defiant gaze. His rage was a fire that burned away all doubt, all fear. He was a dragon king, and a dragon's greatest fury was for those who dared to harm his mate.