Page 82 of The Artist and the Dragon

“I’m fine, truly,” Bronwyn tried to assure him. “But…” She looked past him to the body on the floor. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Not for Elis Davies, exactly—he would not have mourned her—but for Charlotte, and for all that she herself thought she’d known and clearly had not. Had Charlotte known? Could he have kept such a thing from her?

Lord Griffith looked at the body of his friend and shuddered. “This is all so…” He shook his head, focusing his attention back on Bronwyn. “Did he hurt you? Threaten you? What did he say?”

Bronwyn swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not sure any of it matters now.”

“But if he—”

“I need to see about Miss Kinsley’s wound,” Malik interrupted. He stood and held out a hand to Bronwyn. “If I may?”

She took it without question, savoring the way his fingers curled reassuringly around hers and gave a little squeeze of comfort. A small touch, innocent, but it said so much. As did his green eyes, which were full of more emotion than she could currently process.

“Youwill see to her wounds?” Phillip gave him a once-over. “I could take her—”

“Yes,” Malik cut him off again. “That is within my abilities.” The hint of a smirk twitched on his lips.

The tension between her suitors was growing by the minute. It seemed Malik was determined to have a pissing match right there on the ruined stage if that’s what it took to get the other man to leave.

“I thought you might be concerned about Lady Siân and wish to see to her well-being?” Phillip crossed his arms in smug satisfaction.

Bronwyn barely held back a groan of frustration. Now was not the time for this.

“I am, but I trust her brother to care for her just as well as I would. Besides, Miss Kinsley is injured. Certainly, that must take priority.”

Phillip opened his mouth to argue, and this time, it was Bronwyn who cut him off. She placed a hand on his arm and gave him her best adoring look. “Really, I’ll be fine here. And I want to talk to Wynni…” She glanced around, not seeing the opera house owner anymore. “This will have quite an impact on her, I’m sure.”

Phillip sighed. He took her hand and kissed it. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

She thought he might release her then, but instead, he leaned in close. His lips nearly brushed her hair as he whispered. “Be careful around the prince. Trouble seems to follow him.”

The comment left her blinking in surprise as he finally backed away.

“Let me know if you should need anything,” he said by way of more formal farewell. “Anything at all.”

Bronwyn nodded, her words lost. Phillip gave another sorrowful look toward his fallen former friend, muttered something, dabbed at his eyes, and left.

She wasn’t sorry to see him go. If anything, she could finally breathe again.

Chapter 35

Malik

Whatanabsolutelybloodyfucking nightmare. This premiere would be remembered all right, but for all the wrong reasons.

Two dragons were dead. That should be a victory, but it had shaken Bronwyn, who looked more haunted than joyous. She was silent the entire time he led her to one of the lounges. Some of the castle guards had found their way inside and tried to lend assistance, but he ordered them to either aid Wynni or stay outside the door. One, he sent with a message to Jackoby, to inform him of what had happened and that they were safe. Hopefully, the message would reach him before hearsay from patrons who had fled the performance.

Malik needed time alone with Bronwyn—to heal her, and to talk.

Thank the Goddess Lord Griffith had finally left. Malik was starting to wonder if he’d need to literally toss the man aside. It was almost funny, the way he wanted to be the gallant hero, but didn’t he know that putting his need to shine over getting Bronwyn help put her health and safety at risk?

It grated on his last nerve.

The moment a guard shut the door to the lounge, leaving them blessedly alone, Malik settled Bronwyn on an ottoman and knelt beside her to inspect the wound on her arm. She’d faced a dragon—or, more accurately, an ally of them, for the man had no magical lineage that Malik knew of—and survived mostly unharmed. That was a feat. Not to mention that she’d likely prevented him from setting off even more accidents, and had kept him from getting away.

She was the hero of the night, not that you’d know it from her downcast expression.

“Hold still and I’ll have this healed in a moment.”

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