Guy Germaine Mighty Ducks Novels & Stories

I thanked the sports guy and finally caught his name: Riley Lowe. He was about to leave but hesitated at the door, rubbing the back of his neck before stepping back. "Uh... can you add me as a friend? If you ever need help, just message me." I blinked, thrown by the flush creeping up his ears, but nodded. Not long after, word got out that Sherry had fallen, too. Kenneth brought her in himself. She swept into the room, her long gown trailing behind her. Kenneth, of course, played the role of her perfect knight.

They were good at it. My heart would have beat louder if I was an amateur dragon. But I was blessed with a mature dragon. When they brought the box and opened it, the Mighty Heart shined like a star and it started beating again. It recognized me. And it knew that I was close to it, closer than ever. The whole crowd was amazed when they saw what the mighty heart did. But no one except for me and my four allies, knew that it was me who made the Mighty Heart start beating again. I was happy in my heart that at least, my people, who were suffering. That heartbeat would lessen their suffering.

I was checking if all the fingers were in their places. Once I was sure, I stood up and went back towards my place. After a minute, he stood up and pushed his wings out. I could see his dragon was beautiful. Flapping his wings, he pushed himself towards me with his dragon's super speed. I didn't move an inch. His punch was an inch away from my face when he was stuck in the air. He was trying to move. But he couldn't even move his fingers. I walked closer towards his face with a smirk on my face. A winning smirk actually. Because I knew I had won that battle without a single scratch on me.

"That was incredible! Thanks for saving my life, by the way. I'm Damien." He extended his hand in gratitude, but Camille brushed past it, barely acknowledging him with a glance and leaving his hand hanging in mid-air. "I know who you are," she replied curtly, her tone devoid of warmth or enthusiasm. Of course, she knew who he was. Who in Forêt-Bleue didn't know the Prime Minister's notorious son, Damien Christophe—The nation's "Merman"? The media and public had given him that awful title after he had dominated every swimming competition he had entered, from high school to college, winning gold medal after gold medal.

Too bad they never imagined I had already gotten rid of it. My phone suddenly buzzed with a message. I glanced down and smiled bitterly. Mom and Dad thought it was a concerned message from Byron, and they exchanged guilty glances. Unfortunately, they were only half right. It was indeed from Byron, but the message read, "Something came up at work. I won't be home tonight." Right after that, Claire sent me a video. Byron was in the hospital, head bowed as he peeled an orange for her, his gaze tender. The caption read, "I'm the one Byron loves. An ugly duckling is forever an ugly duckling. You'll never become a swan."