Lyra's POV
I dump the metal vial out the carriage window.
The liquid splashes onto the dirt road behind us, glittering for just a moment before sinking into the ground. Gone forever.
My hand won't stop shaking.
I didn't drink it. I chose to risk everything—to let the true mate link form if it wants to. Because hiding behind a potion feels like just another lie, and I'm so tired of lies.
Maybe I'm an idiot. Maybe I just signed both our death orders.
But at least I'll face the Dragon King as myself. Whatever happens after that is up to fate.
"Are you well, Your Highness?" The guard riding beside the carriage peers in through the window. "You look pale."
I push Princess Rosalie's fake smile onto my face. "Just nervous about meeting my betrothed."
The guard's face softens. "The Dragon King is said to be fierce but fair. You'll be okay."
Safe. Right. Safe with a man who already knows I'm a fake and invited me anyway. Safe in a country full of creatures I thought only existed in storybooks.
I clutch my hands together to stop their trembling and watch the scenery change outside the window.
We've been moving for hours. The green fields and woods of Aurelia are disappearing. Now the ground turns rocky and dark. Mountains rise in the distance like sharp teeth trying to bite the sky.
And smoke. Everywhere, smoke rises from hills and valleys.
"Is something burning?" I call to the guard.
He laughs. "That's just the North, Princess. The dragon lands are fiery. Fire burns beneath the ground constantly. You'll get used to it."
Fire beneath the ground. Dragons in the sky. A king who can sense lies.
What kind of nightmare am I riding toward?
The wagon hits a bump and I grab the seat to keep from falling. Through the window, I see the sun begin to set. The sky goes orange and red, like the whole world is on fire.
Then I see it.
A bird.
Except it's not a bird.
It's massive—bigger than the wagon, with wings that span wider than our village's main road. And it's on fire. Actual fire. Flames dance across its feathers like they're part of its body.
The thing soars overhead, so close I can feel heat through the carriage roof. It lets out a cry that sounds like singing and screaming mixed together.
Beautiful. Terrifying. Impossible.
"What is that?" My voice comes out as a squeak.
The guard looks up lazily, like seeing a giant burning bird is normal. "Phoenix. They nest in the mountains near the dragon areas. Magnificent creatures."
A bird.
A real, true phoenix.
Magic isn't just real—it's flying right above me.
My vision blurs at the edges. The wagon spins. I can't breathe.
Everything I thought I knew about the world just shattered like dropped glass.
"Your Highness? Your Highness!"
The guard's voice sounds far away, like I'm underwater. The coach floor rushes up to meet my face.
Then everything goes black.
I wake up to someone dabbing cold water on my face.
"She's coming around," a woman's voice says. Not Madame Thorne. Someone new.
I blink my eyes open. I'm lying on a bed in a small room. Not the carriage. The walls are made of dark stone that seems to absorb light instead of reflecting it.
A woman with copper-colored hair and eyes like fire leans over me. She's beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache—ancient and strong and not quite human.
"Easy, child. You fainted." Her smile is kind but her eyes see too much. "I'm Lady Seraphine. We're at the border station between countries. You'll rest here tonight before going to the palace tomorrow."
Tomorrow. The wedding is tomorrow.
I sit up too fast and the room spins again.
"I saw a phoenix," I whisper. "A real phoenix."
"You'll see many more where you're going." Lady Seraphine studies my face with those too-knowing eyes. "The North is full of wonders. And dangers." She touches my wrist, right where my pulse hammers against my skin. "Your heart beats like a scared rabbit. Are you that scared of dragons?"
"I'm scared of everything." The truth slips out before I can stop it.
Her face changes. Softens. "At least you're honest about your fear. That's rare in royalty."
Something about the way she says "royalty" makes me think she knows. She KNOWS I'm not the real princess.
But instead of calling for guards, she just hands me a cup of tea.
"Drink. It'll calm your nerves."
I take the cup with shaking hands. The tea smells like flowers and smoke. "Are you human?"
"No." She doesn't explain. Just watches me with those flame-colored eyes.
"What are you?"
"Someone who knows what it's like to be far from home and terrified." She stands up. "Rest tonight, Lyra Everhart. Tomorrow your new life starts."
My cup crashes to the floor.
She used my real name. My REAL name.
"How—" I can't finish the sentence.
Lady Seraphine walks to the door and stops. "The Dragon King isn't the only one who can see through deceptions. Some of us can sense what you truly are just by being near you." She looks back. "And what you are, child, is far more interesting than a simple bookshop girl."
"I don't understand."
"You will." She opens the door. "Your bloodline holds secrets even you don't know yet. Secrets that will change everything." She steps into the hallway. "Sleep if you can. Tomorrow you meet King Kael. And tomorrow you'll start to discover why you were always meant to come here—fraud or not."
The door slams.
I look at the spilled tea spreading across the dark floor like blood.
My bloodline carries secrets? What does that mean?
I think about Papa's words in the dungeon: "If they knew what you really are..."
And Madame Thorne saying I should read Rosalie's letters to "become her"—but what if I can't become her because I'm already something else?
What if I'm not just a regular girl who happens to look like a princess?
What if there's a reason—a real reason—that I look exactly like her?
My hands move to my hair, my face, as if touching them will reveal some secret truth.
Outside my window, another phoenix flies past, leaving fire behind it like a comet.
And in the distance, I hear something that makes my blood freeze.
A roar.
Deep and strong and definitely not human.
Dragons.
Real dragons.
Tomorrow I marry their king.
Tomorrow I'll learn what secrets my blood holds.
Tomorrow everything changes.
I press my hand against my chest, feeling my heart pound.
Somewhere in this strange volcanic land, King Kael is watching.
He knows I'm coming.
He knows I'm a fake.
And for some reason, he wants me anyway.
The question that keeps me awake all night isn't "what will he do to me?"
It's "what does he know about me that I don't know about myself?"
Because Lady Seraphine's words echo in my head like a prophecy: "You were always meant to come here."
Always meant to.
Not pushed. Not stuck. Not picked by accident.
Meant to.
What am I going into tomorrow?
And more terrifying—what am I really?