The brush grew thicker, and Poet pushed the bramble bushes aside, her eyes focused on Max as she ventured further into the dense woods. Her heart was hammering so violently, she was certain that any woodland creatures could hear the erratic nature of her pulse.

Can anyone live out here? Genuinely? It seemed highly improbable, but Max forged forth as if he had walked the path hundreds of times before. How does he do that? Poet wondered, awe and terror filling her. How does he manage to remain so confident when our lives are in so much danger?

But it wasn’t her decision to question, her faith in Max unyielding.

At first, she had been petrified at the plan he had come up with.

“How can you know this will work? There are so many things that could go wrong!” she gasped, unsure if it was her own hesitation about what he had suggested or the perils it entailed. For one, returning to the UK seemed foolish.

“This is the only way,” Max told her earnestly, and Poet eventually agreed that he was right.

“What will change?” she whispered. “How—what—how…” She trailed off, the questions taking her breath away.

“I don’t remember,” Max answered sadly. “Or I would tell you. It’s been… far too long.”

Poet blinked at his honesty, the love she felt for him only grew when she realized he was as scared by the prospect as she was.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “If there’s a way, I will see it through.”

That had been a week ago, and it had taken that long to find who they were looking for. But once again, Poet was having second thoughts.

This really can’t be right, she thought. His information is faulty.

For over three hours, they moved through the dense forest, and as Poet felt the temperatures drop, she wished Max would simply put her on his back and scour the forest from the skies.

“It’s impossible,” he told her flatly. “We won’t be able to see a damned thing from that vantage point. We have to do it this way.”

The stress in his voice was almost palpable, and Poet could see he was equally uncertain about their risky journey. From time to time, she watched him look upward, as if he expected one of his dragon relatives to come swooping in from the heavens, ending their quest before they could ever really know for sure.

Is this a wild goose chase? she wondered. There was only one way to know.

As the sun’s rays weakened, a spark of nervousness tweaked through Poet’s form, like something was mocking her from within the trees. There was nothing out here. It was far too remote.

Yet as she thought it, the cabin appeared, and Poet blinked several times, as if she were seeing a mirage in the desert.

Like in a fairy tale, it sat right in front of them, a moss-covered structure made of thick wood. Smoke billowed from the dual chimneys, and a brown picket fence enclosed two sheep and a handful of chickens on the wide, square lawn. It did not look like much, but Poet had the sense that it was much bigger than it appeared to be. Whoever lived inside knew something about survival.

Probably more than we do, Poet thought, exchanging a glance with Max. He seemed frozen, as if he, too, was unsure about what they were going to do.

“This is your last chance to change your mind,” he warned her. “We can turn around and go back to Luxe until judgment day.”

“No,” Poet said firmly. “We’ve come this far, and we’re not going back until she tells us what she can do to help us.”

“Poet,” Max began, “there is no guarantee that she will help us. I have told you the tale of how we came to be. We were borne of a curse, not a blessing. Even if she can—”

“Stop procrastinating,” she interrupted him. “We need to do this, Max. For us to be together in peace.”

Their gazes seemed to give the other a slight boost of confidence, and they stepped forward, hand in hand. Cautiously, they approached the cottage, ignoring the bleating sheep who seemed annoyed by their presence.

A cow appeared from nowhere, causing them both to jump. It mooed at them questioningly as they entered the gate, and Poet laughed nervously.

“I feel like I just walked onto the set of Hansel and Gretel,” she confided.

“You might have,” Max told her. “Except there is no director here.” They gingerly walked up the flagstone pathway, and Max raised his fist to knock on the door. “Hello?” he called out. “Ruby?”

If the cow had startled them, the tiny woman that threw the door open scared the daylights out of them, causing them to jump back in surprise.

Max’s mouth dropped in shock.

“Opal!” he gasped, stepping backward as the woman peered at him with intense, pupil-less eyes.

Poet was overwhelmed by the feeling that the air had been sucked from the forest. She gaped at the elf-like figure before them. The fluttering of birds could be heard as they flew from the trees, and for a moment, Poet was afraid she was going to faint dead away.

The woman eyed them before speaking in a bright, cheerful tone.

“I am Ruby,” she said. “And you’re one of the dragon princes, aren’t you?”

Poet could not stop her mouth from falling open as well, the confirmation of what she had already known being said in such a conversational tone almost too much for her to understand.

“Yes,” Max replied, shooting Poet a worried look. “I am Maximus.”

Ruby nodded slowly, staring at him from head to toe like she was memorizing his every feature.

“Well, come on in before all the flies enter,” she said, throwing open the door wider and allowing them entry. “That damned cow attracts everything on her ass.”

Poet gulped back her shock and lowered her head, entering the hobbit-esque shack. She was trying not to show her ignorance as the sights and sounds filled her senses. Everywhere she looked, there were bottles and jars, crystals and beakers, but she could identify none of their contents.

She is a witch, Poet thought to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. In her anthropology classes, she had learned about people who lived in the woods, isolated from the rest of the world, but it had always seemed so remote from her own life.

Even as they had fought through the shrubbery for hours, Poet had not prepared herself for the woman she was about to meet—the woman who could hopefully change her life forever.

“Tea? Coffee?” Ruby offered, gesturing for them to sit.

“No, thank you,” Poet answered, studying the cabin with impressed eyes. “We shouldn’t have come unannounced, but there was no other way we could find to reach you.”

Ruby snickered. “You are never unannounced to me,” she replied. “I knew you were coming before you did.”

Poet believed her.

“You know why we’re here, then?” Max asked, and the witch nodded.

“Of course I do. I knew it was only a matter of time before one of you came trampling in this direction,” she said.

“And yet, for someone who fears reprisal, you are easy enough to find,” Max said suspiciously.

“Oh,” Ruby sighed, almost rolling her eyes. “I suppose every generation has prepared the next for what Opal did. Some of us believed that you had forgotten how the curse came to be and moved along. That we were safe. But that was never my school of thought. I knew I would see one of you in my lifetime.”

“How?” Max demanded. “How could you know?”

“We are still witches, my lord,” she replied, giving Poet a once over. “We know things inherently. I imagine that is why you have come.”

“I have come because we need your help,” Max explained. The witch sighed again, sitting back against a tree stump chair, folding her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know how much I can help you,” she said, and Max gave her a look of surprise.

“You haven’t even heard what I need,” he reminded her.

“I can guess,” Ruby replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “You want to turn your lover into a dragon.”

Poet gasped. “How did you—?”

“I guess you tuned out that part of the conversation,” Ruby chuckled, shaking her head.

“Why can’t you help us?” Poet asked, rising from her chair. “We are talking about a matter of life or death for me!”

“I know,” Ruby said sadly. “And I wish I could help you. But times have changed, dear Poet. This is not the same world it was seven centuries ago, and there are things I cannot do any longer, not without conjuring powers which might or might not be enough.”

Poet did not have time to entertain the idea that Ruby knew her name without being told.

“Do what you have to do!” Max commanded. “If my father gets his hands on her—”

“Ah, Rui always was batshit crazy,” the witch laughed, shaking her snow-white hair in amusement. “I never understood how he managed to reign for so long without being taken out.”

“Can you please focus, Ruby?” Poet demanded. “If you don’t change me into a dragon, he will be hunting me until he gets what he wants!”

“And I am trying to tell you that I can’t do that,” Ruby said. “Only a select few witches alive today might know how to enact such a spell. It is nowhere near as commonplace as it once was. I’m sorry.”

Max jumped from his chair, his hands on the edge of the table, as if he intended to flip it in his anger.

“You are just like Opal,” he snarled through clenched teeth. “You have wanted us to suffer for no other reason but ancient rivalries.”

Ruby looked unperturbed by his outburst, her black eyes fixed on his reddening face.

“I assure you, whatever medieval spats you people had back in feudal times has no bearing on my life now,” she told him. “You aren’t even princes anymore, and the kingdom is a rundown mess of unkept land. Why on earth would I give a rat’s ass what happens to any of you?”

“We can pay you!” Poet cried beseechingly.

Ruby’s eyes sparkled. “Tempting as that is,” she replied, also rising from her chair, “that doesn’t change the fact that—”

Abruptly she stopped speaking, her face paling as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“What is happening?” Poet asked Max, but he had no answer as Ruby began to seize, her body quivering. Poet rushed to catch her before she hit the floor, and slowly, the witch’s eyes began to regain focus. “What… what happened?” she gasped. “Are you okay?”

“You have to get out of here!” Ruby hissed. “He’s coming!”

“Who is coming?” Max and Poet demanded in unison.

“You know who,” the witch whispered. “Run!”

They tore into the yard, wildly looking around for a place to flee, the sound of wings flapping overhead causing them to freeze in their spot.

“He can’t see us from here,” Max told Poet, yanking her toward him. “We just have to hide in the trees until he leaves.”

“He can sense you down here, Maximus,” Ruby sighed from the door to her shack. “He has been waiting for you to return to England. You can’t hide forever.”

“Ruby, I am begging you!” Poet sobbed, the fear numbing her senses. “I don’t want to die when I have just met my soulmate. Please, do something to help us! Help me!”

“Come on, Poet,” Max growled. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He pulled her hand and yanked her through the gate as Rui released a primal screech from nearby.

Poet cast Ruby one last look, her eyes wet with tears.

“Please,” she mouthed, but Max had already hurried her into the thick.

“I made a mistake,” he muttered, his eyes trained on the sky to look out for his father. “We should never have come back. I should’ve never brought you here.”

“We would never have known any other way,” she replied sadly, her heart shattering as she realized just how close she was to the end of her life.

Max stopped in his tracks and pulled her to him, embracing her tightly, his neck still craned toward the skies. “Shh,” he whispered against her head. “We will find a way out of here, no matter how long it takes.”

But Poet was not fooled by the bravery in his voice. She knew this was the final leg for them both, and she didn’t want to die before telling Max how she felt about him. “Max—”

“Shh,” he said again.

“Max, look at me—”

“Poet—”

“Look at me!” Poet cried, grabbing his face. His eyes were wide with both panic and the bright desire to protect her. “Look at me. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my life. These few weeks with you have made my life worth living, and I can die now, knowing that I have experienced something that some people never get to feel. Even if they live to be one hundred… or seven hundred.”

“Don’t talk like that, Poet!” Max roared, his grip on her tightening. “I won’t let him harm you. I didn’t rescue you from Mya and Nick to end up like this!”

A dark shadow fell over them, and Poet did not need to look up to feel the massive black frame ascending upon them. The temperature dropped as black hooks fell below the tree line, the creatures of the woods screeching in protest at the predator in their midst.

Max tried to turn and look, but Poet held his face firmly in her hands.

“No,” she insisted. “You look at me. You don’t fight him. We can’t spend our lives running.”

Rui landed with a thud, and through her peripheral vision, the terrifying umbra overtook the clearing where they stood.

Don’t scream, don’t cry, she told herself. Accept your fate. You brought this on yourself.

A stream of fire flew from the beast’s massive jaws, a spark of flames shooting toward her. Poet refused to close her eyes, her gaze locked on Max’s. His expression softened, and he placed his hands on top of hers, leaning their foreheads together.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Poet moaned, waiting to be charred on contact.

At the last possible second, instinct took over, and she wedged her eyes closed.

But nothing happened.

Then a hysterical shriek filled the air.

Cautiously, Poet turned her head to stare at the enraged black dragon, flapping his wings in a fury. Rui lowered his head, his amber eyes blazing with anger as he unleashed another spray of fire toward them. This time, as it flew at her, Poet kept her eyes wide open, watching the line of flames dissipate before it met them.

What the hell is going on? she wondered, awestruck.

Before she could question anything else, the old dragon king leaped into the air, his claws extended, and he dove forward to snatch Poet into his clutches.

Max broke apart from their embrace, shifting to meet his father mid-air.

“NO!” Poet screamed. “Max, no!”

But as Rui descended upon them, he seemed frozen in space, unable to proceed closer. Even though Max flew higher, squealing maliciously, Rui made no move to come closer.

Poet stumbled back and watched in fascination at the dragons seemed to communicate between them. Abruptly, Max fell to her side in his mortal form, blinking in confusion.

“What is going on?” Poet demanded. “Why can’t he kill me?”

“Because I cast a protective shield over you.”

Ruby’s voice ruminated through the trees, but when Poet turned to look, she could not see the black-eyed witch.

“He can’t touch you as long as you two are together,” Ruby explained from somewhere within the woods. “The force of your love is staving him off.”

“For how long?” Poet gasped.

“For as long as you remain in love,” Ruby chuckled. “He’ll tire out soon enough, don’t worry.”

Max and Poet clung to each other as Rui batted against the invisible shield, his actions futile. They watched for a few more minutes until the king shot into the sky and disappeared in the direction of Misty Woods, leaving Max and Poet to collect themselves.

It was only then that Ruby showed herself in front of them.

“He will try again,” she said. “Probably many times.”

Poet swallowed the lump in her throat and threw her arms around the witch.

“How can I ever thank you?” she gasped.

Ruby laughed aloud. “No, child,” she replied. “Watching Rui go nuts was repayment enough. But I’m warning you now—if he catches you apart, he can still kill you. That is the only weakness in your shield. My hope is that he eventually gives up, though.”

“We understand,” Poet exhaled, throwing herself back into Max’s arms. “We won’t ever be apart again.”

“No,” Max agreed. “We won’t.” He studied her face, the concern for her alive in his shiny eyes. “The thought of losing you makes me sick to my stomach,” he told her hoarsely. “And even if we can’t turn you into a dragon, I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.”

Poet was beaming, tears slipping down her face. “That is still a long while,” she promised him. “Longer than you make it sound.”

“If it helps,” Ruby volunteered, “I will begin looking for the dragon curse within my circles. It is long dead, but someone somewhere must know it.”

Max stared at Poet.

“Are you still willing to transform to be with me?” he rasped, and she nodded without hesitation.

“Of course,” Poet said, peppering his face with kisses. “We belong together.”

Max’s face relaxed into a wide smile, and he squeezed her body to his. “We need to get out of England,” he told her. “Make Rui work if he wants us.”

“My father will be happy to have me home,” Poet said.

Max brushed her hair away from her face. “What about your master’s, your thesis?”

A playful grin formed on Poet’s lips.

“I think I may have an idea about a paper on reclusive witches,” she quipped, and Max exhaled, laughing as they sank into one another with relief. “Or maybe I’ll just take the rest of the semester off,” Poet concluded.

“I think that might be the best for everyone,” Max said. “Now let’s get the hell out of England and live on the beach for a while.”