Katya

"Witchcraft." The old woman snarled, and Katya felt her blood run cold.

She wasn't a witch, she barely understood what the first rights of an aspiring mage should be. Why would she accuse her of this? She was to marry the woman's own son! Surely that had to stand for something! But as she stood alone among the lair's numbers and looked past the old woman's shoulders and saw her groom-to-be idle in the shadows, she understood.

He'd gotten cold feet again. She was his third attempt at a bonding, if he released her as he had the others before her, he wouldn't just lose face, but the eye of any other potential suitor for many a season to come. Such a flighty male would hardly stay for long to help raise hatchlings. Who would want him for a life partner then?

But if his love had been coerced? If she'd cast a spell to steal his heart?

Katya snarled and leapt for the wretched creature that would dare cast her love and life aside. If she was to die then let the fool kill her with his own claws. She would never forgive his betrayal, never.