Serina's POV
The soup smelled like home.
That should have been my first warning. Nothing in Uncle Castor's house ever smelled good.
"Eat up, my dear niece," Castor said, pushing the bowl closer. His smile was too wide, showing too many teeth. "I made your mother's recipe. The one she used to cook on your birthday."
My chest tightened. Mom had been dead for seven years, and Castor had never once mentioned her. Never talked about his brother—my father—or the family we used to be before the mine collapse took them both.
"Why?" I asked, staring at the steaming soup. Chunks of vegetables floated in thick brown broth. My stomach growled loudly. I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. Kael's training left no time for meals.
"Can't an uncle do something nice for his niece before her big tournament?" Castor settled into his chair, that smile never wavering. "Three days until the Grand Trial. You must be nervous."
Nervous didn't begin to cover it. I'd barely slept in two weeks. Every muscle hurt. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Vivienne's perfect face and her promise to destroy me in front of everyone.
But the soup smelled so good. And I was so hungry. And maybe—just maybe—Castor actually cared a little bit.
"Where's Finn?" I asked, picking up the spoon.
"Out playing. Don't worry about him." Castor leaned back. "This moment is about you. My niece, the dragon girl. The whole kingdom's talking about you. Who would have thought? Worthless little Serina becoming famous."
There it was. The knife hidden in the compliment. Worthless.
I should have left then. Should have listened to the ice forming in my gut. But I was tired and hungry and stupid.
I took a bite.
The soup tasted like ashes and copper. Wrong. All wrong.
"Something's—" The words stuck in my throat. The room tilted sideways. My spoon clattered to the floor. "What did you—"
"Poison," Castor said cheerfully. "Nightshade and widow's tear, mixed with just enough sleeping powder to keep you nice and weak. Don't worry, it won't kill you. Probably. But you definitely won't be fighting in any tournaments for a while."
No. No, no, no.
I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't work. My vision doubled, then tripled. The dragon mark on my chest burned, but the fire wouldn't come. The poison was blocking my magic, drowning it.
"You... you poisoned me?" The words came out slurred. "Why?"
"Why?" Castor laughed, actually laughed. "Because the Magic Council paid me ten thousand gold coins to make sure you're too weak to compete. Ten thousand! Do you know how long I'd have to work for that kind of money? All I had to do was feed you some soup and watch you collapse."
He stood and walked around the table, looking down at me like I was a bug. "Don't blame me, Serina. Blame yourself for being worth so much money. If you'd just stayed nobody, stayed worthless like you were supposed to be, none of this would have happened."
My hands clawed at the table, trying to pull myself up. The poison was spreading through my veins like liquid ice. I couldn't breathe right. Couldn't think.
"Finn," I gasped. "Where's Finn?"
"I told you, playing outside. Though I suppose I should thank you for taking such good care of him. Keeping him healthy and fed made him worth something too. The Council's taking him as insurance—making sure you don't get any ideas about backing out of the tournament."
"You sold us BOTH?" The words ripped out of me, carrying all the rage I couldn't turn into fire. "He's your nephew! He's TEN YEARS OLD!"
"He's a meal ticket," Castor corrected. "Just like you. I took you brats in when your parents died, fed you, gave you a roof. This is how you repay me. Fair trade."
The door burst open. Finn stood there, breathing hard like he'd been running. His eyes went huge when he saw me on the floor.
"Serina!" He started to run to me, but Castor grabbed his arm.
"Not so fast, boy. You're coming with—"
Finn bit him. Hard. Right on the hand.
Castor yelped and backhanded Finn across the face. The crack echoed through the room. Finn hit the wall and slid down, blood trickling from his split lip.
"YOU DON'T TOUCH HIM!" I screamed, and somehow, impossibly, I got to my feet. The world spun. My legs shook. But I was standing. "Don't you DARE—"
Castor raised his hand again, this time toward me. "Shut up and stay down, you worthless—"
He never finished.
The temperature in the room plummeted, then exploded into burning heat. The door didn't open—it disintegrated in a blast of red flame that turned the wood to ash instantly.
Kael stepped through the smoke.
I'd never seen him like this. His human disguise was cracking, literally cracking, with scales showing through splits in his skin. His eyes burned crimson, so bright I had to look away. The air around him shimmered with heat.
And his expression. Oh gods, his expression.
I'd seen Kael annoyed. Seen him angry. Seen him fight.
But I'd never seen him in rage.
"You DARE harm her?" The words came out layered, his voice mixing with something ancient and terrible—his true dragon voice. The walls shook. Windows shattered. "You DARE poison what is MINE?"
Castor went white as snow. "I—I didn't—the Council said—"
"I don't care what the Council said." Kael moved forward, and each step left burning footprints on the floor. "You fed her poison. You struck the child. You sold your own blood for gold."
Dragon fire gathered in Kael's hands, red and black and wrong. Not the controlled flames he used in training. This was pure destruction barely contained.
"Please," Castor whimpered, backing against the wall. "Please, I'll give the money back! I'll tell the Council it didn't work! Please don't—"
"Too late."
The fire exploded outward.
I grabbed Finn and threw us both behind the overturned table as half the house disintegrated. The heat was incredible, impossible. The walls didn't burn—they simply ceased to exist, turned to ash and then less than ash.
Castor's screaming cut off abruptly.
When the flames died, I looked up. The house was gone. Just... gone. Only the floor beneath us remained, and even that was cracked and smoking. The evening sky stretched above us where the ceiling used to be.
Castor huddled in the corner—the only corner still standing. He was alive, but his hair had burned off. His expensive clothes were ash. He was crying, making horrible wheezing sounds.
"If you ever," Kael said, voice deadly quiet now, "come near them again, I will show you what a dragon truly does to those who betray its chosen." He looked at what remained of Castor. "Be grateful I let you live. The next person who touches her won't be so fortunate."
Then Kael turned to me, and all that terrible rage vanished. His eyes were still glowing, but his hands were gentle as he knelt beside me and Finn.
"Can you stand?" he asked softly.
"Poison," I managed. "He poisoned me. Magic's not working."
Something flickered across Kael's face—fear, real and raw. His hand pressed against the dragon mark on my chest. Heat flowed through it, different from fire. Cleaner. It felt like sunlight cutting through dark water.
The poison burned away under that touch. My magic flickered back to life. The world stopped spinning.
"Better?" Kael asked.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Finn was clinging to me, shaking.
"We need to leave," Kael said, helping me up. "The Council will have felt that display of power. They'll send guards."
"Good." My voice came out hard. "Let them come. Let them ALL come. I'm done hiding."
Kael studied me for a long moment. Then he smiled—really smiled—and it transformed his face. "There she is. The girl who refused to stay down."
Footsteps. Lots of them. Guards were already surrounding the ruins, weapons drawn. At least twenty of them, maybe more. Leading them was a woman in silver armor I didn't recognize.
"By order of the Magic Council," she called out, "you are under arrest for destruction of property, assault, and unauthorized use of dragon magic!"
"Run," I whispered to Finn. "Get to the Underground Market. Find Darius."
"But—"
"NOW!"
Finn ran. The guards moved to stop him, but Kael sent a wall of fire between them. Finn disappeared into the smoke.
"Just you and me now," I muttered.
"As it should be." Kael's hands ignited. "Ready to show them what happens when they poison a dragon's chosen?"
"Born ready."
We stood back to back as the guards closed in. Dragon fire and fury against the entire Magic Council's forces.
I should have been terrified.
Instead, I'd never felt more alive.
But then the woman in silver armor smiled. It was a smile I recognized—the same smile Castor had worn when he offered me soup.
"Actually," she said, "I'm not here to arrest you. I'm here to deliver a message from Archmagus Theron."
She pulled out a small mirror that glowed with magic. An image appeared in it—Vivienne Solace, standing in what looked like a prison cell. And beside her, unconscious and chained to the wall, was Mrs. Chen from the Underground Market. And Darius. And Mira.
"Your friends are quite brave," the woman said. "They'll make excellent insurance that you don't miss the tournament. Oh, and one more thing."
The image shifted. My blood turned to ice.
It showed Finn—not running to safety like I'd thought, but caught by guards I hadn't seen. They were loading him into a black carriage.
"The boy goes to the Council fortress," the woman continued. "He'll be released when you compete. If you win, everyone goes free. If you lose, or if you run..." She shrugged. "Well. You understand."
The mirror went dark.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. They had everyone. Everyone I cared about.
"So," the woman said pleasantly, "we'll see you at the tournament in three days. Don't be late."
The guards vanished into the smoke, taking their trap with them.
I stood in the ruins of my uncle's house, Kael beside me, and realized with horrible clarity that I'd just lost before the tournament even started.
"What do we do?" I whispered.
Kael's expression was grim. "We walk into their trap. And we make them regret setting it."
But for the first time since I'd met him, he sounded uncertain.
And that terrified me more than anything.