The fortress was a living wound, its obsidian walls slick as flayed muscle, pulsing with molten veins that wept crimson light, bathing my skin in a feverish glow that clung like sweat. The air was a chokehold of myrrh and ash, a venomous perfume that slithered into my lungs, igniting a feral hunger that clawed at my veins. My sapphire pendant seared my chest, a throbbing ember branded against my flesh, a cruel relic of Raye's love—now a lie, its shards grinding into my heart like glass. I stood in the belly of The dragon, Yuri's lair, a captive in a cathedral of fire and ruin, my pulse a war drum hammering against the cage of my ribs.
Yuri loomed before me, no longer dragon but man—a colossus carved from war and time, his shoulders broad as cliffs, his chest a map of scars glistening with sweat, his silver-white hair a cascade of moonlight over eyes not longer gold but burned violet and blue, twin maelstroms that devoured my defiance. His presence was a pyre, scorching my skin, his scent—smoke, leather, raw earth—coiling around me like a serpent, sinking fangs into my senses. My thighs quivered, my blood roared, and I hated him for it, for the way his gaze flayed me open, exposing the ember of desire I tried to smother beneath my fury.
"You're the Hatcher," he growled, his voice a jagged blade of gravel and smoke, raw with the desperation of centuries alone "Your womb, marked by Serethine's tears, will bear my heir, shatter the gods' curse, your sigil screams it, rose and flame pulsing like a heart."
I laughed, a brittle, razor-edged sound that split the air, my voice cracking like bone under a hammer. "Hatcher? Sigil? What kind of delirium is this?" My chest heaved, Raye's betrayal a red-hot poker twisting in my gut. "Raye sold me like a slaughtered lamb, and you think I'll spread my legsfor your myth? I'd rather rip my own heart out and feed it to your flames."
His eyes narrowed, a flash of confusion slicing through the primal hunger that poured from him like molten iron. He stalked closer, his soles grinding against the stone, the air crackling with his heat, thick as blood. "You don't know?" he growled, his voice low, accusing, as if my ignorance was a betrayal. "Your mark—rose and flame, branded on your womb. You're Serethine's gift, born to end two millennia of agony. You think I'd tear you from your world for nothing?"
My heart lurched, his words a lash that stung my flesh. A mark? I'd never seen such a thing, never heard of gods or curses. My skin prickled, sweat beading at my nape, dripping down my spine like a lover's touch. "You're mad," I spat, stumbling back, my voice raw with fury and fear, my pulse a frantic bird battering my ribs. "I'm Mia, not some divine whore. You've got the wrong woman."
Yuri's gaze blackened, his jaw clenching like stone cracking under pressure. He lunged, his hand seizing my wrist, his grip a forge of iron and fire that branded my bones. My gasp was a sharp, wet sound, heat flooding my veins, pooling low in my throbbing belly, a traitorous pulse that made my thighs clench. "Wrong?" he roared, his voice a thunderclap that shook the walls, his breath hot and ragged against my face. "I've hunted you through millenia, Mia. Your scent—wild, sweet, like blood and roses—it haunts me, drives me to madness. Your pulse sings to me, louder than any storm. You're no mistake. You're mine."
His fingers tightened, his thumb grinding into the soft flesh of my wrist, sending a jolt of fire through my core. My body arched, betraying me, my breasts brushing his chest, my nipples hardening against the damp silk of my dress. Sweat slicked my skin, my breath a ragged sob as I fought the urge to press closer, to feel the hard planes of him against my softness. "Let go," I hissed, my voice a broken plea, my free hand clawing at his arm, nails raking his skin, drawing beads of blood that glistened like rubies.
He didn't flinch, his eyes blazing, his lips curling into a savage snarl. He yanked me closer, his chest a furnace against mine, his breath a molten caress against my ear. "You feel it," he growled, his voice rough, unfiltered, a beast's hunger bared without shame. "Your blood knows me, Hatcher. It burns for me, same as mine burns for you. Scream, claw, curse me—it only makes me want to pin you to this stone and claim you till you forget your own name."
My knees buckled, a whimper escaping my throat, my body trembling with the raw, animal need his words ignited. My core throbbed, slick and aching, my skin screaming for his touch even as my heart recoiled. I shoved against him, my palms slamming into his chest, muscle hard as granite yet pulsing with heat that seared my flesh. He didn't budge, his gaze a predator's, glinting with hunger and a flicker of something raw—pain, perhaps, or longing. "I'm not yours," I choked, tears scalding my cheeks, my voice a shredded whisper. "You're a beast, Yuri. Who thinks he can own me because of some stupid myth. I don't care about your gods or your loneliness—I want out."
His snarl softened, his grip loosening but not releasing, his thumb tracing the pulse in my wrist, slow and deliberate, a caress that sent shivers racing down my spine. "A beast?" he rasped, his voice a low rumble, thick with centuries of solitude. "I am dragon, Mia, born of Azraeth's fire, cursed by the Creators' wrath. In the primordial dawn, when the world was a cauldron of molten stone and the skies bled starfire, Azraeth defied the gods. His wings, vast as tempests, eclipsed jagged peaks; his scales burned like a thousand suns. He sought to unmake the heavens, and they struck him down, his blood erupting in crimson geysers, carving scars into the earth. Their curse stole our females, doomed us to wither—unless a Hatcher, born of Serethine's tears, bears our heir. You, Mia, marked with rose and flame, are our salvation. Two millennia I've waited, my kin fading to ash, my soul gnawed by silence. You think this is nonsense? You think you can flee your blood's call?"
His words were a cataclysm, each one a spark that set my nerves ablaze, painting a vision of blood and fire, wings and ruin. My chest heaved, my pendant a burning coal against my skin, as if it, too, rebelled against his claim. "It's madness," I whispered, my voice breaking, tears streaming down my face, hot and bitter. "Gods, curses, marks—I don't believe it. Raye was my heart, my home. He promised me a ring, a vow, a life. Then he sold me to you, like I was nothing. Do you know what that does? It rips you apart, Yuri. It leaves you bleeding, hollow, with nothing left to give."
His eyes flickered, a shadow of anguish crossing his face, and for a moment, I saw the man beneath the dragon—scarred, lonely, a soul forged in fire and loss. He sank to one knee before me, his grip on my wrist softening, his gaze level with mine, violet and blue swirling like a storm. "Raye was weak," he said, his voice quieter but still rough, a brute's honesty stripped bare. "He didn't loved you, maybe, but not enough to defy his clan, his father, the pact that bound you to me. I'd burn the heavens for you, Mia."
His words were a lash, flaying my heart open, and my tears fell, soaking the stone beneath us. His scent—smoke, leather, raw earth—filled my lungs, a primal call that made my body ache, my core pulsing with a need I despised. "You don't know love," I whispered, my voice trembling, my hand still pressed against his chest, feeling the thunder of his heart. "You want me because of a curse, not because of me."
His jaw clenched, his free hand rising, hovering near my cheek, not touching but close enough to feel the heat of him, a promise that made my skin scream. "Then teach me," he growled, his voice raw, a crack in his ancient resolve. "Show me love, Mia. I've lived almost two millenia in shadows, my soul chewed to bone by silence. You burn brighter than any flame, and I'd rather die than lose you."
My heart stuttered, his words a brand searing my soul. His presence was a storm, his gaze a tether to something wild and uncharted. My fingers curled against his chest, nails digging into his skin, the urge to pull him closer—to taste the fire he promised—nearly shattering me. But I tore free, stumbling back, my legs unsteady, my breath a ragged sob. "I want to leave," I choked, my voice a broken shard. "Your curse, your gods, your loneliness—I don't care. I just want out."
He rose, towering over me, his eyes blazing, his body a coiled spring of muscle and heat. "Run, Mia," he growled, his voice a velvet blade. "Fight. But your blood will call you back. It knows me, even if you don't."
I fled into the fortress's shadows, my tears scalding my skin, my heart a crucible where desire and betrayal burned. His words clung to me, a chain of fire I couldn't break, and I feared they'd consume me if I let them.
Meanwhile, at the manor
The Grand Tree of Luminescence wept ghostly light across the marble floor, its crystalline branches trembling as if mourning Raye's fall. Mia's screams clawed at his mind, her terrified eyes a gash that bled his soul dry. He'd loved her—loved her with a ferocity that had once been his salvation—but he'd fed her to a monster. His father's voice, cold as iron, echoed: The pact is sacred. Her loss was a wound that festered, guilt a poison seeping into his bones.
He slipped into the manor's library, its tomes hissing secrets that gnawed at his sanity. His fingers found a grimoire, its leather pulsing like a heart, and opened it to a forbidden spell—a ritual to bind a dragon's soul, to rip Yuri's power and reclaim Mia. It demanded blood, a shard of his soul, a sacrifice that would unravel him. He didn't care. Mia was his, not Yuri's, and the hunger in him had sprouted claws, tearing at his heart.
He sliced his palm, blood welling like tears, dripping onto the page. The incantation spilled from his lips, the air shuddering, the Tree's light guttering as shadows slithered around him, their whispers sharp as fangs. The man he'd been dissolved, devoured by a darker need. He would rend the world to bring her back—even if he became the monster he despised.