Zusia, Desmond, 10416 P.C.

For years, Annabella had dreamed of this moment. She knew that one day she would be back, looking Motch straight in the eyes once again, maybe once and for all, and she had vowed to herself long ago that she would stare him down without one shred of fear, no matter what. The throne room doors did not steal her breath away when they opened, nor did she falter when greeted by the red eyes of her mortal enemy. She held his gaze without fear.

The soldiers behind them cut their ropes in a quick motion, shoved them both into the room, and closed the doors behind them. Only the man who had announced them remained, backing away to stand guard at the doors. Annabella didn't understand why they were freed.

Perhaps Motch was proving he wasn't intimidated by her, either.

The dragon let out a long, low sound, a groan deep in his chest as he rose up off of his magnificent throne. His size was staggering; he dwarfed them as he rose to his full height and looked down at them with those crimson eyes. "Annabella," he said, enunciating every syllable of her name as he eyed her. "If I'd known you would have been this much trouble, I would have done away with you alongside your brother."

His words didn't scare her. She refused to give him one inch. Was silence a proper answer? She gave it to him regardless.

Motch bared his teeth, stepping off the small stage his throne was placed on and starting toward them. Annabella accepted Stephanie's hand, which the girl had thrust into hers. Stephanie was obviously terrified. Annabella gently directed her to the side as Motch began a circle of the room, ducking around the pillars lining the path to the throne.

"Tell me, Princess," Motch growled, wisps of smoke drifting from his nostrils. His wings shuddered on his back, flexing. "What made you think you could escape from me?"

"I did escape."

"But it never lasts, now does it?" Motch was drawing closer, like a predator stalking his prey. Annabella found herself backing away, pulling Stephanie behind her protectively. Motch noticed. "I see you've become close to your companions. How... uncharacteristic of you. Aren't you the one who betrayed your own lover?"

That was an attack Annabella had not been expecting, and it cut to the heart. Luke's face flashed in her mind, and she set her jaw. "You mock things you don't understand."

Motch inclined his large head, circling past the door and pushing them now toward the throne. "What don't I understand?"

"Love."

He bared his teeth in what could only be a smile. "You fool of a girl. You think you are wiser than I? The subject of love is a class you would fail in, so I suggest you never take it." He stopped in the middle of the room, majestic and terrible all at once. "But if you insist upon enrolling, I'll teach you what love is by showing you what it is not." His gaze shifted past her, to Stephanie. "It is not love you feel toward the girl you shield, the Princess who outranks your own title. Love is truthful, isn't it?"

Annabella stiffened, heat rushing into her cheeks as she understood what he was doing. She broke eye contact, turning to Stephanie breathlessly.

"I don't understand." Stephanie was looking between her and Motch in confusion. "Annabella, what is he talking about? What is he saying?"

A burst of anger swelled up within Annabella. She and Todd really had fallen into a trap. "You won't turn her on us." Her voice wavered ever so slightly, and she cursed herself for it.

"What are you talking about?" Stephanie demanded.

"Use your mind, child," Motch told her. "They lied to you by withholding such a large truth from you."

"What truth?" Stephanie wasn't looking at the beast. She was looking right at Annabella, and Annabella knew at that moment that she and Todd had made a grave mistake. There was a sudden mistrust in Stephanie's eyes, as if a part of her had expected Annabella to betray her all along.

"Stephanie," Annabella said, her voice calmer than she felt.

It was horrible timing, and much too late to deny — Stephanie had seen the guilt in her eyes. She pulled her hand out of Annabella's, stepping back. "What is he talking about?" she demanded, her voice low. "You've been lying to me?"

"No, we—"

"Don't lie again," Motch thundered behind her, sending rockets of fear straight to her bones. Annabella clenched her fists, hoping he hadn't seen her tremble.

Stephanie was watching her, confusion and hurt written deep within her eyes. Annabella realized then that Stephanie hadn't ever fully trusted her.

Accusations didn't break trust that fast.

Annabella wished Todd had been there to help her. She closed her eyes, breathing in slowly, fighting the sudden wave of helplessness that fought to cave her. Bracing herself, she opened her eyes and held Stephanie's gaze firmly, casting aside any thought as to how the girl would react and focusing only on saying the words out loud. "Stephanie, you're the Immortal One's daughter."

Stephanie stared at her blankly. For a moment, Annabella thought the girl hadn't heard her. Then Stephanie's gaze lowered, confusion playing a thousand emotions across her face as she searched the floor for some kind of explanation. "How is that possible?" she finally asked, her voice just above a whisper. When she looked up, she wasn't looking at Annabella. Her gaze was on Motch.

The dragon grunted, walking through the pillars back to his throne. "Fifteen years ago," he began, "Aniea'athrii and I conquered this land. We drove out your god, banished Him for the sins He committed against His people. We would have killed Him, had He not managed to escape from our grasps with His heir. He promised retribution, yes, but He also gave us a gift. A perfect gift, to remind us of the power He still held over us. We could not touch this gift. She was symbolic of how His tyranny still ruled us." Motch stopped at his throne, looking back at the two Princesses with a gaze so honestly solemn, Annabella nearly found herself believing his act. "So, we did the only thing we could do: we changed her name and put her with the other children to be raised in the normalcy she would never possess. We watched from a distance as our gift grew, untouchable and unstoppable. We waited for the day that we could bring her into our presence, so as to raise a queen the people would know to follow." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "That day was interrupted by... some rather unfortunate events."

Annabella seized her moment. "Those unfortunate events," she spat, "were the deaths of innocent people by your hand!"

"Talon," Motch corrected. "I am a dragon, dear."

He was mocking her. "Enough! Stephanie," Annabella turned quickly, facing the girl. "I didn't lie to you, we just didn't know how to tell you. Todd and I found out at the mou—"

"Todd knew?" Stephanie whispered, lifting her head.

Annabella stopped, her mouth open. Her heart skipped a beat. Stephanie's eyes had changed. It was as if a screen had fallen away from her eyes, revealing their true colour. The irises were as bright as emeralds, nearly glowing. Right then, they were glistening with tears. Stephanie stepped back, ducking her head again and pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes. After a second, she turned back to Annabella, looking at her with those incredible eyes. Annabella had only seen eyes like that once before. In a dream on a god.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Stephanie whispered brokenly.

Annabella slowly shook her head. "I didn't know how."

Motch cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Might I add some insight?"

"No," Annabella snapped, knowing she wouldn't be heeded.

"I think your companions were scared." Motch stretched his wings to the roof for a moment before folding them back up with a soft groan. "You, dear, are the child of a god. Such beings possess unfathomable power. You were, understandably, still uncertain about this Creator your companions so blindly serve, and such instability is dangerous. What if you decided to turn on them, as you good and well should? They would be no match for your power."

Annabella wished she had her sword — she fought better with steel. "Stop putting lies in her head."

"You dare speak to me about lies?" Motch roared at her, his booming voice like a thunderclap in the stone room. She stepped back several feet, glaring at him as he said, "I have not lied, yet you, Princess, weave them like tapestry. Here you are now, trapped in the web you've created."

"You're twisting my words!"

"Annabella." Stephanie's voice silenced her. Her heart pounded as she looked at the girl. Stephanie was still, staring up at the dragon, and all at once it was impossible not to see her Father in her. The eyes, the commanding voice, the way she was suddenly capable of setting herself apart from her Human emotions. It was stunning, yet terrifying. Annabella had no idea what to do.

Trust the Immortal One, and don't die.

"Look at that," Motch murmured, awed himself as he carefully drew closer. "She's gained the power of His voice."

"Don't test me, dragon," Stephanie whispered, emotionless.

"I shall test you to your very limitations," Motch countered, undeterred by her detachment. "I meant to wait until your other companions had joined us, but truthfully, I cannot wait to see how you will react." He lifted his head to the man at the door. "Bring the boy."

As the man bowed and exited, Annabella could feel the colour draining from her face. "What are you talking about?"

Motch bared his teeth in what was once again a smile. "I'm talking about my latest discovery. The proof that your god doesn't have the hold on us that we once assumed He had. While you and your Deliverer squandered your time with pitiful battles and skirmishes, I poured everything I had into undermining your mission. And not just by trying to stop you." He paused. "But by beating you to the treasure."

"You're lying to us," Annabella breathed.

"I just told you, I do not lie." Motch lifted his head, looking to the door. "Look, here he comes even now. Your desperately sought out saviour. Your prince. Your future king."

Stephanie and Annabella turned around. The breath caught in Annabella's lungs as the doors to the throne room opened and two soldiers thrust a young man across the threshold. He stumbled to his knees, catching himself with chained hands and looking up at them quickly. There was no fear on this young man's face, only darkness and deep-set cunning. His dark hair was cut short, his shoulders broad, his build modest yet firm. Annabella stared at him, incapable of swallowing past the dryness of her throat and the sudden terror that swept over her. The boy looked back at them with both confusion and cunning.

Motch spoke from behind them. "Ladies, may I present to you Prince Terrence — the son of the Immortal One."