Arion's body was a tight coil of fury, his hands balled into fists as he watched Evangeline walk away. He had lost. Not to a rival in a battle of swords or wits, but to his own pride and her pain. A guttural roar, filled with a primal, agonizing jealousy, tore from his throat. The very air around him began to shimmer and distort.
Seraphina, seeing his rage, reached out a hand to stop him. "Arion, no! Don't…just let her go!"
But her voice was swallowed by the sound of shifting bone and tearing muscle. The prince's body was a blur of silver scales and snapping joints. Within seconds, his human form was gone, replaced by a massive, breathtaking silver dragon. His scales gleamed like polished steel in the moonlight, his wings a thunderous beat against the night air. His roar shook the very foundation of the castle, a furious bellow that announced his rage to the entire world.
With a single, powerful beat of his wings, he launched into the air. He landed with a bone-rattling thud directly in Evangeline and the cat prince's path. His head, crowned with sharp, obsidian horns, lowered to them, his golden eyes blazing with an unholy fire. The sheer size of him, a beast of myth and legend, was enough to make any mortal's blood run cold.
Seraphina, who had tried to grab onto his leg, was tossed aside like a discarded doll. She landed in a heap, her face contorted in a mixture of shock and pain. The rage she had so carefully stoked in him was now consuming her.
Evangeline looked up at him, her body frozen. The fear she had always suppressed threatened to consume her now. The beast who stood before her was not just a fated mate; he was a force of nature, an untamed fury. She instinctively took a single step back, her hand tightening in the cat prince's.
The cat prince, however, stood his ground. He didn't flinch, didn't show any sign of fear. He simply placed a firm hand on Evangeline's waist, his presence a steady anchor against the stormy air. "Your Highness," he said, his voice a low, melodic rumble that was somehow not swallowed by the dragon's presence. "You have no right."
Arion's nostrils flared, a plume of smoke escaping his mouth. "She is mine," he snarled, his voice a deep, resonant growl.
The two princes, one a symbol of raw, untamed power and the other a shadow king, were now face-to-face, with the fate of the princess caught in the middle.