SERA'S POV
The Dragon King doesn't move.
He just stands there at the palace entrance, silver eyes locked on me as the carriage rolls to a stop. Even from here, I can feel his stare. It's like being touched by lightning—electric and terrifying.
"Why is he staring at me like that?" I whisper to Lyria.
"I don't know." Lyria sounds worried. "He's never come out to meet a bride before. He usually waits in the throne room. This is... unexpected."
The carriage door opens. A guard offers his hand to help me down, but I don't take it. I won't look weak. Not here. Not now.
I step out on my own, still clutching Mother's dress.
The Dragon King moves.
He walks toward me with slow, deliberate steps. He's even more imposing up close—tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair that falls to his shoulders. Black scales shimmer under his skin like living armor. His silver eyes glow brighter as he gets nearer.
Everyone around us goes completely still. Even Lyria holds her breath.
He stops three feet away from me.
We stare at each other.
Up close, I see he's... beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful. Sharp features. A strong jaw. But there's something in his eyes that makes my chest ache. Pain. Deep, endless pain.
"You're smaller than I expected," he says. His voice is deep and rough, like thunder rolling over mountains.
"Sorry to disappoint," I reply before I can stop myself.
Lyria makes a strangled sound. Several guards gasp.
But the Dragon King's mouth twitches. Almost a smile. "Not disappointed. Surprised." He tilts his head, studying me. "You're not afraid."
"I'm terrified," I correct him. "I'm just good at hiding it."
This time he does smile. Just a little. "Honest. That's rare." He looks past me to Lyria. "You found her easily?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. But there are... complications."
"There always are." He looks back at me. "What's your name?"
"You asked for me specifically and you don't know my name?"
More gasps. Lyria closes her eyes like she's praying.
But the Dragon King just raises an eyebrow. "I asked for the Ashwood daughter with dragon-blessed blood. The name was irrelevant."
"Then how did you know—" I stop. "Wait. You knew about my blood?"
"I could smell it from three miles away. Ancient magic like yours burns bright." His eyes narrow. "Though I'm curious why your own family didn't know. Dragon-blessed blood should have shown itself in childhood."
"Maybe it did," I say quietly. "And maybe someone tried very hard to hide it."
His expression darkens. "Explain."
"Not here." I glance at the crowd of guards and servants watching us. "This is... complicated."
He studies me for another long moment. Then he turns. "Everyone leave. Now."
The courtyard empties in seconds. Even Lyria hesitates, but Dravyx waves her away too. Within moments, it's just him and me standing in the torchlight.
"Speak," he says.
I take a breath. "My name is Sera Ashwood. Three months ago, my stepmother destroyed my life with lies and fake evidence. She stole my inheritance, turned my father against me, and made me a servant in my own home. I thought it was just about money." I meet his eyes. "But Lyria thinks she knew what I was. That she was trying to make me disappear."
"And did she succeed?"
"She tried to drug me and chain me in a cellar. Then your emissaries arrived early." I pause. "Did you send for me specifically, or was that a coincidence?"
"I sent the letter demanding a bride three months ago. I specified Ashwood noble blood." His jaw tightens. "Your father delayed for three months. I grew... impatient. So I sent my fastest emissaries ahead of schedule."
"Why Ashwood blood specifically?"
"Because twenty years ago, I smelled dragon-blessed blood in your territory. Just a trace. Like someone was hiding it." His eyes burn into mine. "I've been searching ever since. When your father's letter finally came, I knew. The Ashwood family had what I was looking for."
My heart races. "What were you looking for?"
Instead of answering, he holds out his hand. "Give me the dress."
I clutch it tighter. "Why?"
"Because I can smell dragon magic on it. Old magic. And something else." His voice drops. "Blood. Dragon blood."
Slowly, I hand him Mother's dress. He takes it carefully, almost reverently. Then he reaches into the torn pocket.
His whole body goes rigid.
When he pulls his hand out, he's holding the dragon scale. The one Jonathan gave me. It glows silver in his palm, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Where did you get this?" His voice is barely a whisper.
"A stable hand gave it to me. He said it was hidden in my stepmother's chambers. He said—" I swallow hard. "He said it belonged to a dragon who was murdered by dragon-slayers twenty years ago."
Dravyx closes his fist around the scale. His whole arm trembles. When he looks up, his eyes are glowing so bright I have to look away.
"This is my sister's scale." Each word sounds like it's being torn from him. "Her name was Seraphina. She was seventeen when she disappeared. We searched for years. Found nothing." He looks at me. "You're telling me your stepmother had this? All this time?"
"I don't know for sure," I say quickly. "I only have the stable hand's word. But Lyria said—"
"Lyria was right." He turns the scale over in his hand. "Your stepmother didn't just know you had dragon-blessed blood. She was involved in my sister's murder." His voice turns deadly cold. "And she tried to hide you. Tried to make sure I'd never find you."
"Why would she care if you found me?"
He looks at me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve. "Because dragon-blessed blood means you're descended from the ancient bond-keepers. Humans who could form true bonds with dragons. Soul bonds." He steps closer. "If a dragon finds their bonded human, they become unstoppable together. Their power combines. They're stronger than any magic in existence."
My mouth goes dry. "And you think I'm... your bonded human?"
"I don't know." He reaches toward my face but stops just before touching me. "But the moment I sensed your blood, something in me woke up. Something that's been sleeping for centuries." His hand drops. "That's why I sent for you. Why I couldn't wait anymore."
"But the curse," I whisper. "Lyria said any bride who isn't your true mate dies in three nights. If I'm not—"
"If you're not my bonded one, you'll die." His face is expressionless, but his eyes show everything. Pain. Guilt. Desperate hope. "Just like the others."
"How many others?"
"Two." The word is heavy. "Two women who died because I had to try. Because the dragon council demands I keep attempting to break the curse." He looks away. "I stopped after the second one. Told the council I wouldn't try again. But then I sensed you, and I..." He stops.
"You what?"
"I hoped." He says it like it's shameful. "For the first time in two hundred years, I hoped."
We stand in silence. The weight of what he's saying crashes over me.
I might be his salvation. Or I might be his next victim.
"When do we find out?" I ask. "Whether I'm... bonded to you?"
"Three nights from now. On the full moon." He finally meets my eyes again. "The curse activates then. If you survive until dawn on the fourth day, you're my true mate. If not..."
He doesn't finish. He doesn't have to.
"What happens during those three nights?"
"We'll spend time together. Talk. Train. See if the bond develops naturally." His expression softens slightly. "I won't force anything. Won't touch you unless you permit it. You'll have your own chambers, your own guards. You'll be treated with respect."
"Even though I might die?"
"Especially because you might die." His voice is fierce. "You didn't ask for this. You were sent here as a sacrifice by people who should have protected you. The least I can do is give you three days of kindness before—" He stops, jaw clenched.
Before I die.
A guard rushes into the courtyard, breaking the moment. "Your Majesty! The council demands an audience. They've heard about the new bride's arrival."
Dravyx's expression hardens. "Tell them I'll address them tomorrow."
"They insist on tonight, Your Majesty. Elder Scorvath says it's urgent."
Something dark flashes across Dravyx's face. "Fine." He looks at me. "Lyria will take you to your chambers. Rest. Eat. We'll speak more tomorrow." He starts to walk away, then pauses. "Sera?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For bringing me my sister's scale." His voice cracks just slightly. "I can finally give her a proper burial."
Then he's gone, moving with speed that shouldn't be possible for something so large.
Lyria appears from the shadows. "That went better than expected."
"Better?" I stare at her. "He basically told me I have three days to live!"
"But he also told you the truth. Showed you respect. Didn't treat you like an object." She puts a hand on my shoulder. "Trust me, that's more than most brides get from their kings. Dragon or human."
She leads me inside. The palace is massive—all black stone and silver fire. Dragons in human form watch us pass. Some look curious. Others look hostile.
My chambers are beautiful. A huge bed. A private bath. More food than I've seen in months laid out on a table.
"Eat. Sleep. Tomorrow your real training begins." Lyria moves to the door.
"Training for what?"
She smiles. "For surviving. For bonding. For becoming what you were always meant to be." She pauses in the doorway. "Oh, and Sera? That thing Dravyx said about not touching you unless you permit it?"
"Yes?"
"He meant it. But between you and me?" Her smile widens. "The bond works both ways. If you're truly his mate, you'll want him to touch you. Soon. The pull gets stronger every hour you're near each other."
She leaves before I can respond.
I sit on the bed, my head spinning. Three days. I have three days to either become the Dragon King's mate or die trying.
I eat mechanically, tasting nothing. Then I bathe in the huge tub, washing away three months of dirt and shame.
When I finally crawl into bed, exhaustion pulls me under immediately.
I wake to screaming.
I bolt upright. It's still dark outside. The screaming is coming from somewhere in the palace. Not human screaming.
Dragon screaming.
I run to the window. In the courtyard below, lit by silver fire, Dravyx stands in his full dragon form—a massive black dragon with scales that shine like night sky. He's roaring at the sky, and the sound is full of rage and anguish.
In his claws, he holds his sister's scale.
He's mourning.
Other dragons emerge from the palace, shifting into their forms. They surround him, adding their voices to his. It's the saddest, most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
I press my hand against the cold glass, my chest aching.
Then Dravyx looks up.
Directly at my window.
Our eyes meet across the distance.
And I feel it.
A pull. Deep in my chest. Like a rope connecting my heart to his.
The beginning of the bond.
Or the beginning of the end.