White dragon wings—
—was what Ivy had told him.
Damon was very, very sure that Cecilia Araceli was human.
She had been human for twenty-five years. He knew that for a fact. He had watched her grow up, or at least, he had watched her from a distance.
She had been human when she was eight years old, crowned the Saintess after Ruby went missing. She had been human when she was eighteen, marrying that bastard Tiger Prince, hope in her eyes and disaster in her future.
She had been human for the seventeen years she sat on the holy throne.
Yes, he did not know the details of what had happened to Cecilia after her dethronement. But there was no way in heaven, in hell, in any of the realms between, that a human woman changed species into a dragon.
Right?
But Ivy would not lie. Why would she?
Ivy Cassia was many things, schemer, regicide, unhinged in the most charming possible way, but she was not a liar. Not to him or about something like this. She had seen what she had seen.
