SERA'S POV
The sound of wings grows louder.
I press myself against the cellar wall, chains cutting into my wrists. Above me, through the small barred window near the ceiling, I see a shadow pass. Massive. Moving fast.
The dragon scale in my pocket burns hot against my leg.
Then everything goes quiet.
Too quiet.
I hold my breath, listening. My heart pounds so hard it hurts.
A crash explodes from upstairs. Screaming. Running footsteps.
"THE DRAGON KING'S EMISSARIES!" someone shouts. "THEY'RE HERE!"
But they're not supposed to arrive for five more days.
Unless the glowing dragon scale called them early.
More crashes. The whole house shakes. I hear Vivienne shrieking orders. Guards running. Chaos.
The cellar door flies open. Marissa stands there, pale and terrified. "Get up! They're demanding to see all the noble daughters. NOW!"
"I'm chained to the wall," I say flatly.
She curses and fumbles with keys. Her hands shake so badly she drops them twice. Finally, my chains fall away. She grabs my arm and hauls me up the stairs.
The main hall is packed with people. Nobles I recognize from the engagement party. Guards in full armor. Servants pressed against the walls.
And at the center, standing like they own the place, are three figures in black cloaks.
Dragon emissaries.
The lead one is a woman with crimson hair that seems to flicker like fire. Her eyes are gold—actual gold, glowing in the torchlight. When she turns her head, I see scales along her neck. Beautiful and terrifying.
"We were told," she says in a voice that echoes strangely, "that you had a bride ready. That is why we are three months late tolerating your delay."
Duke Ashwood—my father—stands before her, sweating. "Yes, of course, we have several suitable—"
"We don't want several. We want the one promised in your letter." The woman's eyes scan the room. "Where is Lady Sera Ashwood?"
My blood freezes.
They asked for me specifically?
But how? Vivienne's letter would have just said "a noble bride," not my name.
Unless someone else sent a letter. Someone who knew the truth.
Jonathan. It had to be Jonathan.
Every eye in the room turns to me. I stand there in my filthy servant's dress, my wrists bleeding from the chains, my hair a tangled mess.
The dragon woman's gold eyes lock onto mine. Something flickers across her face. Surprise? Recognition?
"You," she says, walking toward me. The crowd parts like water. "You are Sera Ashwood?"
"Yes," I whisper.
She stops three feet away, studying me. Then her nostrils flare. She's smelling me. Actually smelling me like a wolf.
Her eyes widen.
"Impossible," she breathes. Then louder, to my father: "What have you done to her?"
"I—she's been preparing for her journey—"
"Preparing?" The woman's voice turns sharp. "She's starved. Beaten. Chained." She looks at my bloody wrists. "This is how you treat the bride you offer to the Dragon King?"
"She's disgraced," Vivienne steps forward smoothly. "A servant now. But still of noble blood, as the treaty requires."
"Disgraced how?"
"She had an affair. Betrayed her engagement. We've been merciful letting her live at all."
The dragon woman's eyes narrow. "Is this true?"
I open my mouth. This is it. My only chance. I could tell her everything. About Vivienne's lies. The forged letters. The paid witnesses. The dragon scale hidden in my pocket.
But if I accuse Vivienne now, in front of everyone, she'll deny it. I have no proof except the scale—and if I show it, Vivienne will claim I stole it.
I'll look like a liar. Desperate. Exactly what she wants.
So instead, I say: "I did nothing wrong. But no one believes me."
"The truth will reveal itself." The dragon woman turns back to my father. "We'll take her. Now."
"Wait!" Celeste pushes through the crowd, Marcus trailing behind her. "You can't take Sera! Take me instead! I'm more suitable. Stronger. Beautiful—"
The dragon woman looks at her with cold disgust. "The Dragon King doesn't want you."
Celeste's face turns red. "But I'm—"
"We leave now." The woman snaps her fingers. The other two emissaries move toward me.
"Please," I say before I can stop myself. "Can I—can I get my mother's dress? It's the only thing I have left of her."
The dragon woman studies me for a long moment. Then nods once. "You have two minutes."
Marissa escorts me to my room, surrounded by dragon emissaries. I pull Mother's dress from under the mattress. The dragon scale is still in the pocket, warm and pulsing.
I clutch the dress to my chest.
When we return to the main hall, the entire household has gathered. They stare at me like I'm already dead.
Father won't meet my eyes. Vivienne smiles. Celeste looks furious. Marcus looks... guilty? Too late for that.
"Any last words?" the dragon woman asks me quietly.
I look at each of them. My family. The people who destroyed me.
"I hope you remember me," I say clearly. "When everything you built falls apart, remember that you did this. Not me."
Vivienne's smile falters.
The dragon woman places a hand on my shoulder. "Come, child. Your real life begins now."
They lead me outside. A massive black carriage waits, pulled by horses with scales instead of fur. Dragon horses. I've only heard of them in stories.
As they help me inside, I look back one last time at the house where I grew up. Where I lost everything.
Good riddance.
The carriage door closes. We start moving.
The dragon woman sits across from me. "My name is Lyria. I serve King Dravyx." She leans forward. "Tell me, Sera Ashwood. Do you know why the Dragon King asked for you specifically?"
"No." My voice shakes. "How could he? He's never met me."
"That's what I thought." Lyria's gold eyes seem to see right through me. "But when I entered your house, I smelled something. Something that should be impossible."
"What?"
She reaches out and touches my hand. Where she touches, my skin tingles strangely.
"You have dragon-blessed blood," Lyria whispers. "Ancient blood from when dragons and humans lived together in peace. It's so rare, we thought the bloodline was extinct."
I stare at her. "That's impossible. My mother was human. My father—"
"Was your father really your father?" Lyria asks softly. "Or did your mother have a secret she never told?"
The world tilts. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you're not what they told you. Not weak. Not worthless." Lyria sits back. "And I'm saying the Dragon King is going to be very, very interested in meeting you."
"Because of this blood?" I ask. "What does it mean?"
"It means several things." Lyria's expression turns serious. "First, it means you might survive your three nights with the king. Second, it means you're valuable beyond measure. And third..." She pauses. "It means someone in your household knew what you were and tried very hard to make you disappear."
Vivienne. It always comes back to Vivienne.
"What happens in three nights?" I whisper. "Everyone says the Dragon King's brides die within three nights. How do they die?"
Lyria looks sad. "A curse. Any bride who isn't his true mate dies when dragon fire tries to complete the bond. It burns them from inside." She meets my eyes. "The king doesn't want to kill them. But the curse gives him no choice."
"And you think I'll survive because of this blood?"
"I don't know." Lyria's honesty is terrifying. "But you're the first bride with dragon-blessed blood in four hundred years. If anyone can survive, it's you."
If. Not when. If.
The carriage rattles over rough road. Through the window, I see we're climbing. The Obsidian Mountains loom ahead, black and sharp against the sunset sky.
"What's he like?" I ask quietly. "The Dragon King?"
Lyria's expression softens. "He's... not what you expect. Yes, he's powerful. Yes, he's killed many in battle. But he's not cruel. He's lonely. So lonely it hurts to watch." She looks at me. "He's been forced to take brides he knows will die. Forced to watch them burn. It's destroying him slowly."
"Then why doesn't he just refuse? Break the treaty?"
"Because then there would be war. And thousands would die instead of one." Lyria's voice is gentle. "He carries that weight alone."
We ride in silence for a while. The mountains grow closer. Darker.
"Sera," Lyria says suddenly. "Why did you bring your mother's dress?"
I clutch it tighter. "It's all I have."
"May I see it?"
Reluctantly, I hand it over. Lyria examines it carefully. Then she reaches into the torn pocket and pulls out the dragon scale.
My heart stops.
"Where," Lyria asks very quietly, "did you get this?"
I could lie. But something tells me Lyria would know.
"Someone gave it to me," I say. "He said it belonged to a dragon that was murdered by dragon-slayers. He said it was hidden in Lady Vivienne's chambers."
Lyria's face goes white. "This scale... this is from Dravyx's younger sister. She was killed twenty years ago." Her hands shake. "We never found her body. Never knew what happened. We thought dragon-slayers took her, but we had no proof."
She looks at me with something like awe.
"Do you understand what this means?"
I shake my head.
"It means Lady Vivienne—or someone in your household—helped murder the Dragon King's sister." Lyria's voice turns deadly. "It means your family has been living with a death sentence for twenty years."
My mouth goes dry. "What will he do?"
"When he sees this scale?" Lyria carefully wraps it in cloth. "When he knows who had it?"
She looks at me with eyes that glow like fire.
"He'll burn them all."