Xyn drew up short as she found Urian in their usual meeting spot on a blanket he’d spread out near the dark falls that fed part of Apollymi’s mirror. While that part wasn’t unusual, the fact that he’d brought food with him was, especially since he could neither eat nor drink it. This was something he used to do for his mother while she lived here.

Not for her.

What is this?

Smiling, he pushed himself to his feet. “Happy birthday!”

She scowled at his words, confused by them. Pardon?

His smile widened to where she could see his fangs. “Well, since you don’t know when you were born and you always take care to remember the date of my birth, I decided that I’d give you one of your own. So I designate today as yours. Happy birthday, Xyn.”

Tears blurred her vision at his kindness. Worse? Tenderness choked her. She didn’t know what to say. No one had ever been so thoughtful before. She almost changed out of her dragon form and back into her human skin, but caught herself.

There was no telling how he might react. While he knew she had a lot of powers, he didn’t know the full extent of them. And she’d never bothered to tell him that she could make herself appear human. In fact, there was much she’d kept from him out of fear of what he’d think and how he’d react if he knew the truth—such as who her parents really were.

He would hate me forever.

That she couldn’t bear. Urian was all she had in this world where she was cut off from everything and everyone. He was her only friend. Apollymi had seen to it that even with her extensive powers, she couldn’t Bane-Cry to her brothers to help her. She had no escape.

No hope.

Urian was her sole comfort. Her light in this abysmal darkness. The irony of that, given his name, wasn’t lost on her. And it was only part of why he meant as much to her as he did.

“Are you crying?”

She blinked the moisture away, not wanting him to see her weakness. Of course not. The stench of you is what makes my eyes water.

Urian laughed. He never took offense at her teasing because he knew she didn’t mean it. She could never really insult him. “I don’t believe you.”

You should. When was the last time you bathed, anyway?

Tsking, he shook his head at her as he feigned insult. “Fine then, I shall eat this alone.”

You don’t eat.

“Oh yeah. I forgot.”

Flopping down by his side while taking care not to harm him with her dragon’s body, she nosed at the food, which actually was very tasty. Thank you, Uri.

Urian smiled at his irritable dragon. He didn’t know why he found her cantankerous nature so amusing when such demeanor from his brothers drove him to outright violence.

Yet he adored her.

Everything about her, even her insults.

And he loved doing things for her whenever he could. Large or small, it made no never-mind to him.

Happy that he’d pleased her, he climbed onto her back and lay against her spine, between her wings so that he could scratch between them where she couldn’t reach.

She let out a contented sigh and spread her black wings wide on the dark grass. Her sides began to vibrate in a soothing way that was a dragon’s equivalent to a purr. The first time he’d discovered it, she’d almost rolled over and killed him.

Now, they’d found a happy compromise that allowed him to scratch her back and her to lie peacefully without causing him injury.

The tips of her wings fluttered in time to her purr.

Urian stretched out along her spine. “So what did you do all week?”

She scoffed. Ate. Bathed. Slept. Circled the garden. Slept a bit more. Thought about setting fire to Apollymi … you know, the ushe. What about you?

“Fought with my brothers. Fought with my sister. Was punished by my father for fighting with my siblings. Trained to fight. Was lectured on why fighting was bad, which confuses the hades out of me. Got snubbed a few dozen times by everyone around me. You know, the ushe.”

Sorry.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. Kind of used to it.”

I hear the lie in your tone.

Yeah, and he felt the lie in his knotted gut. How he wished it didn’t bother him. “And here I thought I was being subtle.”

She turned her head so that she could look at him on her back. So what do you want, my Uri?

He sighed wistfully. “I don’t know. When I was little, I wanted to see the sun. To walk out into daylight. Now … I want to rip out Apollo’s throat.”

Don’t you want a family?

Urian shook his head. “I have all the family I need. Most days more than I want.”

She laughed. But what about love? A woman of your own?

That was beyond him. No female would ever feed him. He’d given up all hopes of that useless dream and reconciled himself to his cold meals. Which disturbed him most of all. As Theo and Archie kept pointing out, he was destined to die an unwanted virgin. “I don’t believe in love. At least not what the poets peddle.”

You’re young.

Perhaps. But there was no way to miss the disdain and suspicion that hovered in the eyes of everyone he met. Or to miss hearing their whispered hate. How he cursed his superhuman ears that allowed him to pick up every syllable of their vicious gossip.

He sat up on her spine. “What? You disagree about love?” Of all creatures, he would have assumed she’d be with him on this topic.

Aye. I know the love of which they speak.

“Then you’re lucky.”

Xyn fell silent as she thought about it and realized that Urian was wrong. She wasn’t lucky to love him. Not as long as he felt the way that he did about the subject.

Not as long as he thought of her as his pet and had no idea how very human she was beneath her scales.

To love someone born of another species, who didn’t believe in it, was without a doubt the cruelest fate ever devised by the gods who hated them all. And she wished she could tear out her heart and stop it from beating. Because as long as it beat, it would always beat for a man who would never return her love to her.