The sky screamed before the earth did.
It began with the wind, cold, sharp, and rising with unnatural speed. Hazel sat up instantly in the cellar, heart pounding. Her mother stirred beside her, but the look they exchanged said it all.
They were back.
Hazel barely had time to push the cellar door open before the first blast hit. Fire erupted across the village in a massive arc, striking the western fields and igniting everything it touched. Screams rang out. The roar that followed was deafening, otherworldly.
A shadow streaked across the sky, wide as a ship's sail and black as night.
"They came back," Hazel whispered.
"No," her mother said, pulling her backward. "They never come back this fast. Not again. Not this soon."
But they had.
The dragons had returned. And this time, they hadn't come to scare. They had come to destroy.
Hazel pushed out of the ruined house, stumbling over broken beams. All around her, flames lit up the night. Homes crumbled under fire. Smoke clouded the stars. Villagers ran through the streets in blind panic, searching for shelter that no longer existed.
She saw them then—the three of them—circling above like dark gods.
The brown dragon slammed into the blacksmith's roof, leveling it in seconds. The silver one flew lower, wings slicing through the air with bone-chilling speed as he sprayed fire in sweeping arcs.
And the third…
The black dragon hovered higher, unmoving. Watching. Waiting.
His massive wings stirred the smoke like storm winds, his scales like obsidian, eyes glowing gold like molten suns. Hazel froze beneath him.
That was when it happened.
He saw her.
The black dragon's head turned slowly, gaze locking on her as if she were the only living soul in the chaos.
Hazel's heart stopped.
She didn't move. Didn't breathe. But he did. He dove.
The wind howled as he descended with terrifying speed. Hazel's instincts screamed and she ran, sprinted through burning alleys and collapsing doorways. She heard her mother shouting her name behind her, but it was distant, drowned by the thunder of wings and the screams of the dying.
The dragon didn't attack her. Didn't incinerate her.
He chased her.
Hazel ducked beneath a toppled cart, heart hammering, lungs burning. She could feel him above her, the way the heat pulsed off his body, the way the shadows thickened in his wake.
Why her?
She didn't have time to think.
The wall behind her exploded, a black claw smashing through it like parchment. Hazel screamed and bolted, running blindly toward the forest edge.
He was faster.
Another blast of air knocked her off her feet. She tumbled, landing hard in the dirt. When she turned over, gasping, he was there.
Massive. Terrifying. Beautiful.
The black dragon landed with a quake that shook the earth. Firelight danced across his scales. His eyes bore into hers—and Hazel felt something shift in that moment. Not anger. Not hunger.
Claim.
She scrambled backward, but it was too late. A clawed hand closed around her waist, gentle but inescapable.
"No—please!" she cried, thrashing.
He didn't hurt her. He didn't burn her.
He simply took her.
The world blurred as he rose into the sky with her in his grasp, the village shrinking beneath them into a fiery wasteland. Hazel screamed, the wind tearing at her clothes and hair as the stars twisted above.
They flew for what felt like hours—above mountains, through storms, over oceans of cloud. Until finally, the world shifted.
The wind grew still. The sky changed.
Below them, a kingdom carved from darkness emerged, a vast fortress hidden between jagged peaks, unreachable by any path, cloaked in cloud and shadow. Waterfalls poured from cliffs of black stone. Spires pierced the heavens. And at the heart of it all stood a massive palace shaped like dragon wings.
Hazel barely registered the landing. The dragon set her down gently on a terrace of polished obsidian before stepping back.
She staggered away from him, heart racing, lungs heaving. She was in another world. Somewhere no human had ever seen.
"W-what is this?" she gasped.
And then it happened.
The dragon's body began to shift. His massive form shimmered, folding inward. Scales melted to skin, wings to shoulders. Smoke and heat curled around him.
And where the beast had stood… now stood a man.
Hazel's breath caught in her throat.
He was tall, towering, broad-shouldered, and impossibly still. His hair was black as night, tousled by wind. His skin was pale and smooth, like moonlight over marble. And his eyes, those same gold eyes, glowed softly, fierce and otherworldly.
He wore dark robes lined with silver embroidery, his bare chest partially visible beneath the open folds. Everything about him screamed power and danger, but there was no cruelty in his face.
Only possession.
He stepped closer.
Hazel stumbled backward. "Y-you… you're human?"
A corner of his mouth twitched. "No."
His voice was deep. Smooth. Like smoke wrapping around silk.
"What do you want from me?" she whispered.
He didn't answer at first. He merely watched her, gaze lingering on her face, her hair, her heaving chest.
Then, finally, he spoke again.
"I want what is mine."
Hazel's heart nearly stopped.
She didn't understand.
But she would.
Because Kaelith, the Dragon King, had seen her.
And now that he had… he would never let her go.