In the Draconia Empire, there was a duke unlike any other, named Draen Silvaris.
He appears to be a man in his early twenties with features sharp and unchanging, as if time itself stopped around him.
In truth, he is over three centuries old.
Descendants of dragons do not age like ordinary humans. Their bodies mature normally until their late twenties, after which aging slows drastically.
Once their dragon blood fully awakens, their appearance stabilizes, leaving them forever caught at the peak of their physical prime. Wrinkles never even touch their skin and illness rarely lingers.
While not immortal, dragon blooded nobles like Draen can live several centuries, sometimes longer if their bloodline is pure.
Draen's long life has shaped his personality.
He is patient, calculating and emotionally restrained.
He has watched emperors rise and fall, seen alliances rot with time and outlived enemies who once swore to destroy him.
To him, humans live fast and die quickly which is why he rarely forms attachments while in the hunt of his bride.
The Silvaris household, descended from ancient dragons, held influence so vast that even the Imperial family itself dared not cross them. Their lands spanned provinces, their armies rivaled the royal guard and their word carried weight across the empire.
The Silvaris Dukedom was feared for its might and respected for its legacy as a perfect combination of danger and allure.
And Draen himself embodied that legacy.
Tall, impeccably handsome and radiating authority, every movement and gesture spoke of elegance.
His mind was sharp, his skills were unmatched and his presence commanded obedience and awe. To look at him was to witness perfection and yet, for all his brilliance and power, Draen carried a single, glaring flaw,
he had yet to find his bride.
In the empire, nobles were usually betrothed by the age of fifteen but Draen's circumstances were anything but ordinary.
To wed him was no simple affair and any family willing to offer a daughter had to be prepared to place her in the den of a predator.
Not all dared, for the duke was a force unto himself like a man whose dragon blood demanded more than just love or duty. It required a union that could carry his heir, a bride whose body could manifest the signs of his dragon lineage.
Draen's situation was peculiar, even by the empire's standards.
So, to secure a bride, he had to make love to the one willing to marry him, then wait for at least a week for manifestation, the moment when the chosen one's body began to transform, becoming capable of bearing his heir.
When the manifestation occurred, a seal would appear somewhere on his body whether it's on the back, chest, neck, or even the hands, letting him know that he finally succeeded.
For the past year, Draen had scoured the empire for a bride and his search had grown more desperate and daring over time.
He had tested every noblewoman brave enough to approach him but the manifestations never came. His impatience and curiosity eventually led him to experiment beyond the usual boundaries as he had even made love with a man, for his dragon blood was capable of impregnating both male and female, though the results were just as elusive.
Powerful, untouchable and cursed by his own dragon heritage, Draen Silvaris waited while searching for the one who could finally awaken the seal, the one who could carry his heir and the one who could claim a place in his heart.
For several years, Draen Silvaris had dedicated himself entirely to finding a bride and an heir worthy of his dragon blood. Every noblewoman who dared approach him was tested, every suitor was measured against the impossible standards of his lineage.
Yet, year after year, the manifestations never came.
Finally, Draen grew tired of waiting and declared a bold new decree: he would make love every month to any willing partner, noble or commoner alike.
If the manifestation failed to appear, the participants would still be rewarded handsomely with their loyalty and courage. They will be compensated with gold, lands, or favor.
Soon, word of Draen's unusual proposal spread like wildfire. Nobles and commoners flocked to the Silvaris Dukedom with each hoping to win favor or at least claim a reward.
One night, under the pale glow of the moon, everything changed.
There's a seal, radiant and unmistakable, appeared on the back of Draen's hand. Pulsing with dragon fire and marking the long-awaited beginning of a chain of events that would alter not only his life but the destiny of the person who had been chosen by his blood.
"Alon!"
From the depths of his private study, Draen's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
"Yes, Your Grace?" came the calm, measured reply.
Alon, the Silvaris family's loyal butler, had served the dukedom for over fifty years. His every movement carried decades of discipline and devotion. At Draen's call, he entered the room promptly while bowing lightly.
Alon's family had served the Silvaris Dukedom for generations, ever since their ancestors were saved by the dragon long ago. Although Alon's bloodline was not originally noble, the Duke granted them a title in recognition of their loyalty and over time, that title remained with the family.
"You called, Your Grace?" Alon asked while scanning the study.
Draen, however, barely heard him.
His gaze was locked on his left hand that's being raised slightly while trembling with excitement. A faint, intricate dragon-shaped seal glimmered on his skin while swirling with faint golden light.
His chest heaved and a grin split his perfect face.
"Look at this. I finally found a bride!" Draen exclaimed with voice full of triumph.
Alon's eyes widened as he took in the sight. Tears, long held back by decades of restraint, welled up and spilled over. "At last, Your Grace… at last. Finally…" he whispered with a trembling voice.
Draen's excitement didn't waver.
He then turned to the old man with eyes gleaming with a dangerous and possessive joy. "Alon, listen carefully. I want you to fetch him, the man I spent the night with. He's likely suffering now since the manifestation has begun. You know the rules that during the manifestation, I must feed him my blood to ease his pain and allow his body to bear the changes. Do not fail me. Bring him to me immediately."
Alon swallowed with a mixture of awe and worry crossing his weathered face. "Understood, Your Grace."
He bowed deeply and turned to leave with the weight of his duty heavy on his shoulders.
With a golden heat surged through his veins as the intricate seal blazed across his hand, Draen's breath hitched and his heart thundered as the impossible had finally happened. The hunt was over and yet, the real test was only beginning.
And that was even proven when, unfortunately,
Alon returned…empty-handed.