Elara's POV
The dragon moves and the world shakes.
I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't do anything except stare at the most terrifying thing I've ever seen.
He's MASSIVE. Bigger than the tower. Bigger than a house. Bigger than possible. His scales look like black glass and liquid silver mixed together, shifting colors as he moves. Wings spread wide enough to cast shadows over the entire wasteland.
And his eyes.
Golden eyes that burn like the sun itself. Ancient eyes. Furious eyes.
Eyes locked directly on me.
"WHO DARES?" His voice crashes through my skull like thunder. Not spoken out loud—it's IN my head, shaking my brain. "Who breaks the seal? Who wakes me from my prison?"
"I—I didn't—" My voice comes out as a terrified squeak. "I didn't mean to—"
The dragon's head snaps toward me so fast I scream. He's close now. So close I can feel heat radiating from his body. So close I can see teeth the size of swords.
He inhales deeply, scenting me.
Then he goes completely still.
"Impossible," he breathes. The fury drains from his voice, replaced by something that sounds like shock. Like pain. Like hope. "It's you. After three hundred years... Lysandra, you've come back to me."
"My name is Elara!" I'm pressed flat against the broken tower, chains still hanging from my bleeding wrists. "I don't know who Lysandra is! I don't know what's happening!"
The dragon shifts, and suddenly he's not a dragon anymore.
Magic swirls around him—black and silver flames that don't burn. When they clear, a man stands where the dragon was.
The most beautiful man I've ever seen.
And also the most terrifying.
He's tall—taller than anyone I've met. His hair is pure white, falling past his shoulders. Dark scales pattern his neck and arms like tattoos. His eyes are still golden and burning. He's wearing black clothes that look like they're made from shadows.
He looks at me like I'm the only thing in the entire world.
"Lysandra," he says again. His voice is softer now but still has that thunder underneath. He reaches for my face.
I flinch back. "DON'T TOUCH ME!"
He freezes. Something flickers across his face—hurt, confusion, then understanding.
"You don't remember," he says slowly. "The reincarnation... you don't have her memories."
"I don't have ANYONE'S memories!" My voice is shrill with panic. "I'm Elara Morwen! I'm nobody! I was chained here to die! I don't know you! I don't know what you want from me!"
He moves closer and I try to scramble away, but the chains are still attached to the tower. I'm trapped.
"Stop," he commands, and my body freezes. Not because he's using magic—though I can feel his power pressing against my skin like a physical weight. I freeze because his voice carries absolute authority. The voice of someone who's used to being obeyed.
He kneels in front of me, studying my face with those impossible eyes.
"You're afraid," he says. It's not a question.
"Of course I'm afraid! You're a DRAGON!"
"I won't hurt you." He reaches out slowly, carefully, and touches my wrist where the chains cut into my skin. His fingers are warm. Gentle. "Let me remove these."
"Why?" I can't stop shaking. "Why would you help me? I broke your seal. I woke you up. Aren't you going to kill me?"
His laugh is bitter and sad at the same time. "Kill you? Little flame, you freed me from three centuries of torture. I should be thanking you."
He touches the chains and they shatter like glass. My arms drop and I gasp—they're so heavy I didn't realize how much they hurt until they were gone.
But before I can move, he grabs my wrist again. Not hard. Just... holding it.
"What are you—" I start to ask.
Then pain explodes in my chest.
I scream. It feels like someone's branding me from the inside. Like fire is being carved directly into my heart. I look down and watch in horror as a mark appears on my skin, burning through my dress—a dragon symbol, glowing silver-white, right over my heart.
"What did you do?" I gasp. "What did you DO TO ME?"
The dragon-man releases my wrist and opens his shirt. He has the same mark. The same glowing symbol.
"The soul-bond," he says quietly. "It's reforming. You're bound to me now, Elara. As you were bound to me three hundred years ago."
"I DON'T WANT TO BE BOUND TO ANYONE!" I shove at his chest. It's like shoving a mountain. He doesn't move. "Take it back! Remove it! I don't want this!"
"I can't." His voice goes hard. "The bond is permanent. Your soul recognized mine the moment your blood touched the seal. That's why your magic awakened. That's why you could break the chains."
My magic. The silver fire that exploded from my hands.
I look down at my palms and they're still glowing faintly. Still humming with power I've never felt before.
"My magic was weak," I whisper. "It's always been weak. I can barely light a candle—"
"Your magic was SEALED." His voice turns furious, but not at me. At something else. "They sealed your power when you were born. The Council. They feared what you'd become if you awakened."
"The Council did this to me?"
"The Council has been hunting Dragonheart bloodlines for three centuries. Killing the strong ones. Sealing the weak ones. You..." He touches my face and this time I'm too shocked to pull away. "You carry the strongest Dragonheart magic I've ever felt. Stronger even than Lysandra's. They sealed you at birth and prayed you'd never break free."
My mind is spinning. "Why? Why would they do that?"
His golden eyes burn with rage. "Because Dragonheart magic is the only thing powerful enough to free dragons from imprisonment. And the Council has been keeping my entire species in chains for three hundred years, draining our magic to fuel their own power."
I stare at him. "That's... that's impossible. Dragons are extinct. Everyone knows that."
"We're not extinct." His voice drops to something dangerous. "We're enslaved. Tortured. Imprisoned beneath the Council's capitol, having our essence drained day after day, year after year, century after century. And you, little flame, are the key to breaking every single seal."
My magic flares in response to his words. Silver fire dances across my skin without burning me. It feels RIGHT. Like this is what my magic was always supposed to be.
"I don't understand," I say weakly. "I don't understand any of this."
"You will." He stands, pulling me up with him. I'm shaky on my feet but his hand on my arm keeps me steady. "Your body wasn't prepared for the awakening. The power is consuming you from the inside out. If I don't teach you control, you'll burn yourself alive within days."
"Days?" Fear spikes through me. "What do you mean days?"
"Your magic is trying to break free all at once. Three centuries of sealed power flooding through you." He touches my chest where the mark burns. "The soul-bond is the only thing keeping you alive right now. My magic is containing yours. But you need to learn control, fast."
I look at my hands. The silver fire is getting brighter. Hotter. He's right—I can feel it building inside me, pressing against my skin, trying to explode out.
"I don't know how to control it," I whisper. "I've never been able to control my magic. That's why everyone thought I was weak."
"You're not weak." His voice is absolutely certain. "You never were. You're the most powerful being I've encountered in three hundred years. You're just untrained."
"Then teach me." The words come out desperate. "Please. I don't want to die. Not after surviving everything else."
Something softens in his expression. "What did they do to you, little flame? Why were you chained here?"
"My sister." The words taste like poison. "Celestine. She... she suggested me for this. Told the Council I'd be useful. They sent me here as a sacrifice."
His face goes deadly calm. "Your own blood betrayed you."
"Yes." I'm too tired to cry about it anymore. "So please, teach me. Help me control this. Because I'm not dying for her. I'm not dying for ANY of them."
He studies me for a long moment. Then slowly, deliberately, he smiles. It's a terrifying smile. A predator's smile.
"Good," he says. "Hold onto that rage. We're going to need it."
The ground suddenly shakes beneath our feet. In the distance, I hear shouts. See lights moving toward us.
"The Council," the dragon-man says, his voice going cold. "They felt the seal break. They're coming to investigate."
"What do we do?"
He looks at me, and there's something possessive in his gaze. Something that makes my heart race for reasons I don't understand.
"We?" He touches my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. "You and I are bound now, Elara. Your life is my life. Your enemies are my enemies. And anyone who tries to chain you again..."
His eyes flash with golden fire.
"...will learn why they should have killed the Dragon King when they had the chance."