The fire came first.
Then the screams.
By the time the dragon riders descended on our village, there was nothing left to burn. I knelt in the ash, my hands bound behind my back, staring at the smoke that blotted out the sun. Our home. Our people. All gone, taken by the wings of the beasts we'd been taught to fear since birth.
A shadow fell over me.
I lifted my chin, refusing to cower, even as my bones shook.
Standing before me was a man carved from darkness and steel. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His black armor glinted like obsidian, etched with runes that hummed with magic. A sword hung at his hip, and his cape—black as night—swirled around his boots. His face was sharp, dangerous, beautiful in the way a storm was beautiful: devastating, unforgiving.
His eyes were the color of frozen silver.
"Prince Kael Voss," a soldier muttered beside me. "The dragon rider."
The prince of the enemy kingdom. The rider of Morgrath, the black dragon who'd burned our skies.
He knelt in front of me, one knee sinking into the ash, and his gloved finger lifted my chin. His touch was ice.
"Name," he said. His voice was low, rough, like stone grinding against stone.
I didn't answer. I only stared.
He smiled—a cold, cruel thing that didn't reach his eyes.
"Stubborn. I like that." He stood, nodding to the soldiers. "Take her to the castle. She'll serve in my quarters."
A gasp went through the crowd.
Servant in the prince's quarters?
It was a death sentence. Everyone knew it.
Prince Kael did not keep prisoners. He broke them.
I was dragged away, my boots scraping against the burnt earth. Behind us, a roar shook the ground.
I turned my head.
From the smoke, a massive black dragon emerged, its scales like polished night, its wings blotting out the sun. Its golden eyes locked onto me.
And then I understood.
I wasn't just a prisoner of the prince.
I was a prisoner of the dragon.
The journey to the castle was silent.
When we arrived, I was thrown into a stone chamber, my bonds finally cut. The door slammed shut, and I was alone.
Alone, except for the feeling of being watched.
I turned.
Standing in the corner, leaning against the wall, was Prince Kael.
He'd removed his helmet. Dark hair fell over my forehead, messy and wild. His silver eyes studied me like I was a puzzle he intended to solve.
"You think you can hate me enough to survive," he said.
I straightened my back. "I will survive."
He stepped closer, until he was only a breath away. My heart hammered. I could smell smoke and cedar and magic on him.
"Survival isn't the question, little prisoner," he murmured, his voice dropping.
"The question is…
will you let me break you first?"
The air crackled.
Somewhere outside, the dragon roared.
And I knew.
This was only the beginning.