Chapter 2

Fenris went rigid. Those bloodshot, dark gold vertical pupils slowly lifted, locking onto mine. Not a trace of submission in them—only defiance carved into his bones and a wariness I couldn't fathom.

In my past life, I'd cursed those fierce eyes more than once. I'd even forced him to carve a scar across his own face after he "hurt" Cyprian.

I'd been a fool. A complete fool to throw away a dragon who would die for me, all to pick up a fox who would bite the hand that fed him.

Ignoring the shocked gasps behind me, I reached out and took Fenris's shackled hand in mine.

His palm felt scorching, rough as sandpaper, yet somehow it filled the howling void in my soul.

Fenris flinched violently, as if scalded, instinctively trying to pull his hand back. But I held on tight.

"This one." I raised my head toward the Elven King, my voice ringing through the hall.

"Father, Fenris is powerful and honorable—the perfect choice for a bonded companion. As for that Cyprian—" I spared a glance at the fox, pale as death on the floor, "—even as a gift to serve as my bed warmer, I'd find him too filthy. Anyone who wants him can have him."

The hall erupted. No one had expected the crown princess, known for favoring delicate companions, to choose the most untamable, volatile condemned dragon in the room.

"Aveline! You..." Rosalind sputtered in fury.

But the Elven King clapped his hands in delighted laughter.

Anchoring the Crown Princess's position with the strongest war god—exactly what the throne desired.

I ignored everyone else's reactions, going up on tiptoe to lean close to Fenris's angular, battle-scarred face.

"Fenris." I locked eyes with him, softening my voice. "I choose you. Will you be my companion?"

Those vertical pupils contracted into razor-thin slits. He stared at me, chest heaving violently, his throat working as he swallowed hard, but his jaw remained clenched shut, refusing to speak.

Finally, he gave a single, reluctant nod.

The Elven King's hand swept down. Silver light erupted around us, binding threads spiraling up our arms before melting into our flesh. The contract sealed with a pulse of warmth.

The moment the binding ceremony concluded, the Elven King departed with his entourage.

Ignoring the probing stares, I led Fenris directly through the side archway.

The instant we stepped into the unpopulated shadows, away from the elders' watchful eyes, Fenris violently wrenched his hand from mine.

The force sent me staggering back half a step, my back hitting the pillar.

In the past, I would have exploded in anger. Now, I simply watched him quietly.

"Your Highness." Fenris retreated two steps, putting a safe distance between us. His voice sounded like it had been dragged over gravel—low, hoarse, and laced with undisguised hostility.

"I can be killed, but I will not be humiliated. If you chose me just to make that fox jealous, just to use me as some tool for your games, then you're wasting your time."

His fists at his sides clenched so tight his knuckles went bone-white.

"You can throw me into the arena. You can flay me with whips. But don't mock me with this bonding charade. I won't play along with your sick games."

So this was what he'd been thinking back then.

He thought this was all some elaborate scheme to please a lower-born fox while degrading him.

What I owed him in my past life could never be repaid, not even with my life.

I looked at his face and said nothing. Instead, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms firmly around his waist.

"What the hell—" Fenris reacted like a cornered beast, every muscle in his body going iron-hard.

He instinctively raised his hands to shove me away, but those calloused palms froze mid-air. He seemed terrified his sharp armor guards might tear my robes, leaving him suspended there, completely at a loss.

"Fenris," I pressed my face against his scorching chest, listening to the wild, erratic pounding of his heart. "I'm not joking, and I'm not using you. In this life, I only want you."

Harsh, unsteady breathing came from above my head.

I tilted my face up slightly.

The Dragon-Therian war god—viewed as a monster by the entire borderlands, cold and merciless—was now turning his face away in panic, unable to meet my eyes.

And those pointed dragon-wing ears hidden beneath his golden hair were visibly flushed, radiating heat.

So this was what lay beneath all that cold, hardened armor—a soul completely unguarded.

"Remember what you said today, Your Highness." After a long silence, he forced out these words, his voice even more hoarse than before.

He still didn't return my embrace, but slowly lowered those suspended hands, loosely cupping the air behind my back in a protective gesture.

Feeling his burning body heat radiating through the armor, I closed my eyes where he couldn't see.

Thank god. In this life, we're both still breathing.

As for Cyprian and Rosalind... everything you took from me before—this time, you'll pay for it in blood.