Elara's POV
I shifted back to human form screaming.
The transformation reversed violently, scales retracting like knives dragging across my skin. Wings folding into nothing. Bones reshaping with sickening cracks. I collapsed onto the cave floor, gasping and shaking.
"Breathe." Cael's hands were on my shoulders, steadying me. "First shifts are always brutal. You did well."
"Well?" I choked out. "I almost killed myself!"
"But you didn't. And you drove them back." His voice held something like pride. "Your father and his hunters retreated the moment they saw you shift. They weren't expecting that."
I looked up at him, vision still blurry with pain. "My mother. You said I looked like my mother."
His expression darkened. "After you shifted, yes. She had the same silver scales. The same dragon heritage."
"Father said she died of illness when I was seven." My voice cracked. "But he killed her, didn't he? Because of what she was. What I am."
Cael didn't answer, which was answer enough.
I pressed my good hand against my mouth, holding back a sob. Everything I'd believed about my family, my life, my mother—all lies. Father hadn't just betrayed me. He'd been planning this for seventeen years, ever since he'd murdered the woman he claimed to love.
"Come." Cael lifted me effortlessly. "You need rest and proper healing. We can discuss your father's crimes later."
He carried me deeper into the lair, through tunnels that glowed with natural firelight. We passed chambers filled with things I couldn't process—treasures, weapons, books stacked higher than my head.
Finally, we entered a large room where soft furs covered the floor and a gentle fire burned in a stone pit. It was warm but not hot. Comfortable instead of suffocating.
Cael laid me down carefully on the furs. "Sleep. When you wake, I'll have food and answers ready."
"Wait—" I grabbed his wrist before he could leave. The bond mark flared where we touched. "Thank you. For saving me. For believing me when no one else would."
Something shifted in his expression—surprise, then something softer. "You're welcome, Elara Thorne."
He left, and exhaustion pulled me under like a wave.
When I woke, the pain had dulled to a manageable ache. My broken fingers were wrapped in clean bandages that smelled like herbs. Someone had changed me out of the torn sacrificial dress into soft clothes that actually fit.
Cael sat across the fire, now in fully human form. No scales, no tail, just a tall, handsome man with dark hair and those striking golden eyes. He was holding a bowl of something that smelled amazing.
"You're awake." He moved toward me, offering the bowl. "Eat. You need strength."
I took it with my good hand. Some kind of stew—rich and warm and better than anything served at the palace. I ate quickly, suddenly realizing how hungry I was.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Two days."
I nearly dropped the bowl. "Two days?"
"Your body needed time to recover from the shift. And from everything else." His eyes flicked to my bandaged hand. "First transformations take a lot of energy, especially when you're already injured."
I set the empty bowl aside, processing this. Two days. Father and Adrian had two days to regroup, to plan another attack.
"They'll come back," I said. "With more men. Better weapons."
"Let them." Cael's voice was casual, but his eyes burned with that ancient rage I'd seen in the ice caves. "They killed a young dragon to get to you. That death demands payment."
"What was his name? The dragon they killed?"
"Rhen. He was only forty years old—barely more than a child by our standards." Cael's jaw tightened. "He was watching the perimeter, making sure no humans got close while you healed. They murdered him for doing his job."
Guilt twisted in my stomach. "Because of me. He died because—"
"He died because humans are cruel." Cael's voice was sharp. "Don't take that burden on yourself. You didn't wield the blade."
But it felt like I had. Another life destroyed because of my existence.
I pulled my knees to my chest, ignoring the protest from my bruised ribs. "Why did you save me, Cael? Really? You said it was because I speak the old tongue, but there's more to it. I can feel it through the bond."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he sat down across from me, firelight casting shadows across his face.
"I've been watching you for three years," he admitted.
I jerked my head up. "What?"
"I saw you once during a hunt. Your father had cornered a juvenile dragon, wounded but still alive. You argued with him. Begged him to let it go." Cael's eyes met mine. "He ignored you and killed it anyway. But you tried. You showed mercy when you didn't have to."
"I don't remember that," I whispered.
"You were crying. Even after your father dragged you away, you kept looking back. Like you wanted to save something you couldn't."
Heat flushed my cheeks. He'd been watching me for years? "That's... kind of disturbing."
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Perhaps. But in a thousand years, you were the first human I'd seen show compassion for my kind. It made me curious. So I watched from a distance. Saw you grow up. Saw you try to make peace between humans and dragons at every turn." His expression darkened. "Saw them destroy you for it."
"So you saved me out of... what? Curiosity?"
"At first." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "But when I broke your chains in that cave and you looked at me without fear—even broken and betrayed and dying—I felt something I thought was dead. Something that made me want to protect you instead of just letting you survive."
My breath caught. "The bond."
"No. The bond came after." His eyes held mine. "What I felt was recognition. Like I'd been waiting for you without knowing it."
Before I could respond, a sound echoed through the lair—footsteps, quick and urgent.
A young man burst into the chamber. He had copper-colored hair and eyes that matched, shifting between human and something more. Another dragon.
"Cael!" He was breathing hard. "We have a problem. A big problem."
"Kiran." Cael stood smoothly. "What is it?"
"The hunters didn't leave. They're camped at the base of the mountain." Kiran's eyes flicked to me, then back to Cael. "And they brought reinforcements. Fifty more men. Plus something worse."
"What could be worse than fifty dragon hunters?" I asked.
Kiran's face paled. "They have a Dragon Cage."
The temperature in the room dropped despite the fire.
"That's impossible," Cael said flatly. "Those weapons were destroyed centuries ago."
"Well, someone rebuilt one." Kiran pulled a small crystal from his pocket—some kind of seeing stone. Images flickered across its surface, showing the camp below. And there, in the center, was a massive device made of dragon bone and dark metal, covered in glowing runes.
A Dragon Cage. A weapon designed to trap and suppress dragon magic completely.
"If they activate that thing while you're in range—" Kiran started.
"I'll be powerless," Cael finished grimly. "Vulnerable."
"And Elara just learned to shift," Kiran added. "She doesn't have the control to resist that kind of suppression. It could kill her."
My stomach dropped. "So what do we do?"
Both dragons looked at me, then at each other.
"We have two options," Cael said slowly. "Run and abandon my lair. Or destroy the Cage before they can use it."
"There's a third option." A new voice spoke from the shadows.
We all spun around.
A woman stepped into the firelight. She was beautiful and terrifying, with scales that shimmered like opals and eyes that held ancient power. Her presence made the air feel heavy, charged.
"Who are you?" I breathed.
She smiled, and it wasn't kind.
"I'm Seraphine. Queen of the Northern Dragons." Her eyes fixed on me with predatory interest. "And I'm here to see if Cael's new little mate is worth starting a war over."