least. Finnegan would live.
She dressed quickly, pulling on a blue cotton dress, and then attempted to untangle the knots in her hair. The sun was high in the sky—at least a day must have passed since she collapsed. An entire day. She should have been planning, should have been figuring out what to do. Instead, she had slept.
Someone knocked on the door. The handle turned before she had time to answer, and Finnegan stepped into the room.
“Aurora,” he said. “I thought I heard someone moving. You slept for a long time.” His black hair was still mussed with sleep, but the burns had completely faded, the skin as smooth as it had ever been, except for a single red scar that ran along his jawline.
“You have a scar,” she said.
“Don’t you think it makes me look dashing?”
She crossed the space between them and pressed her fingertips to his skin. Warmth pulsed from it, like fire pulsing from a dragon. It was not a burn scar. It was like a cut.
She had marked him. The scar followed the line of his jaw, where she had touched him after their kiss.
“Upset about the loss of my perfect face?”
“No,” she said. “No, of course not.” But she could not take her eyes from the scar.
“No comment about how my face was never perfect?” he said. “No attempt to reassure me that the scar isn’t that bad? I’m almost disappointed.”
She did not reply.
“So,” he said. “What did you do?”
She looked away. “Magic,” she whispered. “I found a spell.”
“Seems strange,” he said, “that you were unable to help me for the entire walk back to the city, and then could heal me with one kiss within the walls of the palace.”
“I panicked,” Aurora said. “The dragon, your injuries . . . I couldn’t focus. Once I got back, I found a book to help. I’m sorry it took so long, but it was all I could do.”
“A book?” Finnegan said. He rested a hand on her wrist. “Which one?”
“I don’t remember.” She pulled away. “A book in the library.”
“You’re going to have to learn to lie, or learn to stop lying. Either would do.” He watched her steadily, and the scar seemed to glare in accusation.
“I had to help you,” she said. She tugged at her hair. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“I’m flattered you value my life so much,” Finnegan said. “What did you do?”
“I can’t tell you. I can’t.”
“I’ve heard that Lucas is missing. You both disappeared, they said, but only you came back. Does that have anything to do with it?”
She could not lie to him. But the truth felt illicit, like she was confessing to murder. “Yes,” she said. “And no. He won’t be coming back.”
“Aurora,” Finnegan said. “What did you do?” He rested his hands on her shoulders, and looked all over her face, as though the answer might be written there. “Did you go back to the mountains? Did you find something?” He glanced down, and then paused. “Aurora, your hand,” he said. “What happened to your hand?”
“A dragon,” she said. She pulled it away. “Why does it matter?”
“Because it matters. How could a dragon—did it burn you? I won’t care, Aurora. I won’t blame you, even if you burned all of Petrichor to do it. You know how I think.”
She did. That was why she could not tell him. She needed to work through her feelings for herself, without Finnegan there to tell her how to feel. To dismiss it like it was nothing.
Burn them all, little dragon.
“I saved you,” she said. “That’s all there is to say.”
“I’ll find out eventually,” he said. “You know I will.”
“Then eventually, we’ll talk about it.”
He laughed. “All right, Aurora,” he said. “I’m grateful, whatever you did. Thank you.”
On impulse, she darted forward and kissed him. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. Celestine had not broken her word, at least. One kiss, and he was exactly as he had been before. Or almost exactly.
“I’m glad to be okay.”
She leaned in to kiss him again.
A scream rattled through the air. Aurora spun to face the window.
Fire raced across the sky.
Dragons.
TWENTY-SEVEN
AURORA AND FINNEGAN RAN OUT OF THE PALACE, through the courtyard and onto the street. Flames seared the paving stones. The dragon had gone, but Aurora could feel its heat, drumming a few streets away.
Another shadow fell over them, and Aurora and Finnegan leapt back. A crowd surged down the street, some people ducking into buildings for protection, others struggling to escape into the