Elara's POV
The floating crystal pieces drop to the ground the moment Theron speaks.
You will come with me in three days, he says, his golden eyes still fixed on me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve. Be ready at dawn.
Then he shifts back into his dragon form and launches into the sky, leaving the entire village staring at me in shocked silence.
For exactly three seconds, nobody moves.
Then Serafine explodes.
NO! She screams so loud my ears ring. Magic bursts from her hands blue flames that shoot toward my face.
I don't even have time to duck.
But the fire stops inches from my skin. It hangs in the air, flickering and crackling, then suddenly reverses direction and slams back into Serafine.
She stumbles backward, smoke rising from her singed sleeves.
How did you she gasps. That's impossible!
I stare at my hands. I didn't do anything. At least, I don't think I did.
Delphine grabs my arm hard enough to bruise. What are you? What dark magic is this?
I don't know, I say honestly.
You've been hiding your powers! Delphine hisses. All these years, pretending to be magic less, making us look like fools
I wasn't pretending! The words burst out of me. I never had magic before! I don't understand what's happening!
Liar! Serafine shrieks. She throws more fire.
Again, it stops before hitting me and shoots back at her. This time she dodges, and the flames hit the wall instead, leaving black scorch marks.
The crowd starts backing away from me. I see fear in their faces. The same fear I saw in Theron's eyes.
I'm suddenly more terrifying to them than a dragon.
My father finally moves. He pushes through the crowd and grabs Delphine's wrist, forcing her to release me.
Enough, he says quietly. She volunteered. The decision is made.
You're defending her? Delphine spits. This worthless creature who's stolen your stepdaughter's destiny?
She's my blood daughter, my father says. His voice is soft, but there's steel underneath. And she has more courage than anyone here.
It's the first time in ten years he's defended me.
I want to cry. I want to thank him. I want to scream at him for waiting so long.
Instead, I turn and walk toward the manor doors.
Where do you think you're going? Delphine shouts after me.
To pack, I say without looking back. I have three days.
Behind me, Serafine starts crying angry, frustrated sobs. This isn't fair! I trained my whole life! I'm supposed to be Dragon Queen!
I keep walking.
My room is tiny more like a closet than a bedroom. One small bed, one trunk for my few possessions, one window that looks out at the stables.
I've lived here since my father remarried. The servants have better rooms than this.
I pull out my mother's old travel bag and start packing. Two dresses both old and patched. A hairbrush with half the bristles missing. My mother's necklace, the only thing I have from her.
That's it. That's my whole life in one small bag.
I'm folding my second dress when someone knocks on my door.
Go away, Serafine, I call out.
It's not Serafine.
My father's voice.
I open the door. He stands there looking older than I remember, holding a wooden box.
I need to talk to you, he says. Before you go.
I want to slam the door in his face. Where was this need to talk when Delphine was beating me? When Serafine was burning my books? When I spent nights crying myself to sleep?
But I step aside and let him in.
He sits on my bed the mattress creaks under his weight. He looks around my tiny room like he's seeing it for the first time.
I've been a coward, he says quietly. A terrible father.
Yes, I agree. You have.
He flinches but doesn't argue. Your mother made me promise to protect you. To keep you safe. I failed her. I failed you.
Why? The question bursts out of me. Why did you let them treat me like this? I'm your daughter!
Because I was weak, he says. After your mother died, I was drowning in grief. Delphine seemed like salvation. By the time I realized what she was, I didn't have the strength to fight her. So I... didn't.
That's not good enough.
I know. He opens the wooden box. Inside is a book old, leather-bound, covered in strange symbols. This was your mother's. She made me swear to give it to you when you came of age. But I was too afraid. Delphine would have destroyed it if she'd known.
I take the book carefully. It's heavier than it looks. The symbols on the cover seem to shift and move when I'm not looking directly at them.
What is it?
I don't know, my father admits. Your mother said it was her family's legacy. She said when the time was right, you'd understand.
I open it to the first page. The words are in a language I've never seen, but somehow I can read them:
For my daughter, when the sleeping magic wakes. Remember: absorption is not weakness. It is transformation. What you consume, you become.
My hands start trembling.
The Moonwhisper line, my father continues, wasn't just any magical family. They were magic eaters. They consumed other people's power and made it their own. The gift skipped generations. Your mother had it, but weakly. She died giving birth because your magic drained her trying to protect you.
The room spins. She died... because of me?
She died protecting you, he corrects gently. There's a difference. And she knew she knew you'd be powerful beyond measure if you survived. That's why she left you this book. To teach you what you are.
I flip through the pages. Drawings of people absorbing fire, water, earth, lightning. Instructions written in that strange language I somehow understand. Warnings about consuming too much power too fast.
Why didn't you tell me this before? I whisper.
Because I was afraid, he says again. Afraid of what you might become. Afraid of losing you like I lost her. But now... He stands up. Now you're going to face a cursed Dragon King, and you need to know the truth. You're not magic less, Elara. You've been absorbing magic your whole life every spell Serafine cast near you, every enchantment in this house. Storing it. Waiting.
For what?
For this moment. When you'd finally need it.
A knock on the door makes us both jump.
Miss Elara? A servant's scared voice. There's someone here to see you. He says it's urgent.
My father and I exchange looks. Who?
He won't give his name. But he's... he's wearing Dragon Court armor.
My blood goes cold. Theron left hours ago. Who else would come from the Dragon Court?
I slip my mother's book into my bag and follow the servant downstairs.
In the entrance hall stands a man I've never seen before. Tall, dark-haired, wearing black armor with a dragon crest. But it's his eyes that make my breath catch.
Silver. Like molten metal.
He looks at me, and I feel recognition slam into me like a physical blow even though I've never seen him before in my life.
Elara Thornwood, he says. His voice is deep and makes something in my chest vibrate. We need to talk. Privately. Now.
Who are you?
His smile is sharp as a blade. I'm the reason you're still alive. The Calling Crystal should have killed you. The fact that you survived means you're either the Dragon King's salvation... He steps closer, and I smell smoke and magic. Or you're the weapon that will finally destroy him. And I need to know which one before you reach the Citadel.
My father steps between us. She's not going anywhere with you.
The stranger's eyes flash with something dangerous. Then she'll die within hours of entering the Citadel, and her death will be on your conscience. Is that what you want, Marcus Thornwood?
He knows my father's name. How?
Three minutes, the stranger says to me. Give me three minutes of your time, and I'll tell you the truth about what you are and why the Dragon King really wants you. After that, you can choose whether to listen or walk away.
Every instinct screams this is dangerous.
But I step forward anyway.
Three minutes, I agree.
The stranger's smile widens. Smart girl. Now come with me, and I'll tell you about the woman who cursed the Dragon King three hundred years ago. The woman who's been watching you your entire life. The woman who arranged for you to be chosen as tribute.
My blood turns to ice. What?
Her name is Morganna, he says. And she's very much alive. And Elara... His silver eyes pin me in place. She's your grandmother.