Sylus lay motionless in a sea of crimson Datura, his blood soaking the earth beneath him. The hunters had torn into him, their blades cut deep until even his dragon heart faltered. His horns were gone, his tail hidden—he looked human, but that hadn’t spared him. His breath came ragged, each gasp a knife in his chest.

He was sure this was it, his last breath, the last time he’d feel the warmth of the sunset on his body. A pained breath escaped his lips, life draining out of him but then— Footsteps. A whisper of life nearby. Suddenly warm soft fingers brushed his face, gentle where the world had been nothing but cruel. His eyes flickered open.

A girl knelt beside him. Her gaze was gentle and worried, not fearful, filled with a softness he had never known.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice like cracked glass. “I‘m dangerous..” His heart stuttered, heavy with pain, but for the first time in ages, he wasn’t ready to let it stop.