Elara's POV
The dragon's roar shook my bones.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The massive creature that had just exploded from the shattered Gate filled the entire sky above me. His scales were blacker than midnight, edged with silver that caught the dawn light. His wings spread so wide they blocked out the sun. And his eyes—molten gold, ancient, furious—locked directly onto mine.
"Three hundred years," his voice crashed through my mind like thunder. "Three hundred years of agony. Of torture. Of draining my essence drop by drop while I screamed in darkness."
Behind me, I heard Seraphine shriek in terror. Heard guards running. Heard Vorian chanting desperate defensive spells.
The dragon's massive head swung toward them. His jaws opened, showing teeth as long as swords. Fire gathered in his throat—not normal fire, but dragon flame that could melt stone.
"Wait!" I screamed.
The dragon paused. Those golden eyes swiveled back to me. "Wait? You dare command me, little human?"
"I freed you!" The words tumbled out frantically. "My blood broke your chains! Doesn't that mean something?"
"It means you are slightly less worthless than the rest of your pathetic species." He turned back toward Seraphine and the others. "Now be silent while I incinerate everyone who imprisoned me."
"They didn't imprison you! That was three hundred years ago! These people are just—"
"JUST WHAT?" The dragon's roar was so loud I felt it in my chest. "Just innocent? Just following orders? Just trying to survive by draining my life force to fuel their magic?" His laugh was bitter and terrifying. "No. They knew. They all knew what their prosperity cost. And now they pay."
Dragon fire erupted from his jaws.
"NO!" I yanked against my chains with all my strength. Something inside me snapped—not physically, but magically. Power I'd never felt before surged through my veins, silver and hot and wild.
The chains exploded off my wrists and ankles.
I threw myself between the dragon and my family. Stupid. Insane. But I couldn't just let him kill them—not like this. Not without them understanding what they'd done wrong first.
The dragon fire hit me.
And I didn't burn.
The flames wrapped around me like water, warm but not painful. Silver light blazed from the dragon mark on my arm, spreading across my whole body like armor made of starlight.
Everything went silent.
"Impossible," Vorian breathed.
The dragon pulled back his fire, staring at me with something that might have been surprise. "You... you're not burning."
"I'm dragon-touched," I said, my voice shaking. "Dragon-Speaker blood. Your fire can't hurt me."
"Dragon-Speaker?" The massive creature leaned closer, examining me. "There are no Dragon-Speakers left. I watched the last one die three centuries ago."
"My mother was one. She passed it to me." I stood straighter, even though my legs felt like water. "And I used my blood to free you because I believed you weren't the monster everyone said you were."
"Then you were a fool," the dragon snarled. "I am exactly the monster they fear. I will burn their cities. Collapse their castles. Make them remember what happens when you cage a dragon."
"And then what?" I challenged. "After you've killed everyone and destroyed everything—then what? You'll still be alone. Still be the last of your kind. Still be exactly what they made you."
The dragon's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You know nothing about what I am."
"I know you protected humans once. I saw it in your memories through our bond." I touched the glowing mark on my arm. "I know the first King betrayed you when you tried to stop him from harvesting dragon blood. I know you were imprisoned not because you destroyed the world, but because you refused to let them destroy your family."
"How do you know this?" His voice was quieter now, but somehow more dangerous.
"The bond." I pointed to his chest, where I could see the same silver mark glowing beneath his scales. "When my blood freed you, it connected us. I feel what you feel. See what you see. Your memories are my memories now."
For a long moment, the dragon just stared at me. Then, slowly, his massive form began to shimmer and shrink. The scales receded. The wings folded. Until standing before me was a man.
The most beautiful and terrifying man I'd ever seen.
He was tall, with black hair that fell to his shoulders. His skin was pale, marked with dark scales that traced up his neck and arms like living tattoos. His eyes were still molten gold, still ancient and furious. He wore black clothes that seemed made of shadow itself.
"Ashkaroth," I whispered. His name felt powerful on my tongue.
"Elara," he replied, and I shivered hearing my name in his voice—deep and dangerous and almost gentle. "The last Dragon-Speaker. The girl who freed me." He stepped closer. "And now, apparently, the girl who's bound to me by blood and magic."
He reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling my arm up to show where the dragon mark blazed silver. His other hand pressed against his own chest, where the matching mark glowed.
"Do you understand what you've done?" he asked softly. "This isn't just a mark. It's a soul-bond. Your life is tied to mine now. If you die, I return to that cage. If I die, you follow me into death. We're stuck together until one of us ends it."
"I know," I said, though I hadn't understood the full weight of it until now.
"And you still want to stop me from killing them?" He gestured toward Seraphine, Cassian, my father—all frozen in terror behind me. "These people who betrayed you? Who beat you? Who tried to execute you?"
I looked back at them. My father's face was white with shock. Seraphine had collapsed on the ground, sobbing. Cassian was trying to run but his legs wouldn't work. Vorian was chanting protection spells that flickered and died uselessly.
Did I want them dead?
Yes. Gods help me, yes.
But—
"I want them to face justice," I said carefully. "Real justice. I want them to admit what they did. I want everyone to know the truth about the dragons, about the lies, about everything." I met Ashkaroth's burning gaze. "If you kill them now, they become martyrs. But if we expose them, if we show the world what they really are—that's worse than death."
Something flickered in his eyes. Respect? Interest?
"You want revenge," he said slowly. "But the smart kind. The kind that actually hurts."
"Yes."
He smiled—sharp and dangerous and amused. "You're not what I expected, little Speaker. Most humans who freed me would have begged for mercy or tried to control me. You're standing here negotiating terms."
"We're bonded now," I pointed out. "That means we're partners. Equals. Right?"
"Equals?" He laughed—a rich, dark sound. "You're a nineteen-year-old girl who just learned she has magic. I'm an eight-hundred-year-old dragon who's forgotten more power than you'll ever know. We are not equals."
"Then why haven't you killed me yet?"
The question hung in the air between us.
Ashkaroth leaned down until his face was inches from mine. His breath smelled like smoke and storms. "Because you fascinate me," he admitted quietly. "You broke my chains when you had nothing to gain. You stood in front of dragon fire to protect people who tried to murder you. You're either the bravest person I've ever met or the most foolish." His gold eyes searched mine. "I haven't decided which yet."
"Can I be both?"
That startled a real laugh out of him. "Perhaps."
Behind us, Seraphine found her voice. "Kill her! She's the traitor! She freed the World-Breaker! She'll destroy us all!"
Ashkaroth's expression went cold again. "That one dies first."
"No," I grabbed his arm before I could think better of it. His skin was burning hot under my fingers. "Please. Let me handle this my way. Give me a chance to do this right."
"Why should I?"
"Because if we're bonded, that means you're stuck with me. And I'd rather be stuck with someone who respects my choices than someone who just does whatever he wants." I squeezed his arm. "Please. Trust me like I trusted you when I broke your seal."
Ashkaroth stared at me for a long, tense moment. Then he pulled his arm free—but gently, not violently.
"Fine," he said. "You have three days. Three days to expose their crimes and show the world the truth. But if they try to imprison me again, if they try to hurt you, if they even look at you wrong—" His eyes blazed. "I burn everything. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Good." He turned to face my family and the guards. When he spoke, his voice carried across the mountainside like thunder. "Hear me, you pitiful creatures. For three days, I am granting mercy to this kingdom—not because you deserve it, but because this girl asked me to. But if anyone tries to harm her, if anyone tries to cage me again, I will turn your precious capital into ash and memory. Run. Tell your King. Tell everyone." His smile was all teeth. "The World-Breaker is free. And this time, he has a Dragon-Speaker at his side."
The guards broke and ran. Vorian teleported away in a flash of magic. My father stumbled backward, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.
Only Seraphine and Cassian remained, too terrified to move.
I walked toward them slowly. They shrank back like I was the monster now.
Maybe I was.
"Three days," I said quietly. "Three days to confess everything. To tell the truth about what you did to me, what the kingdom did to the dragons, all of it. Because if you don't—" I let the threat hang unfinished.
"You wouldn't," Seraphine whispered.
"Try me." I smiled, and it felt like Ashkaroth's smile—sharp and dangerous and free. "I'm not the perfect princess anymore, sister. I'm something new. Something you created when you destroyed everything I loved."
I turned and walked back to Ashkaroth. He was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"That was well done," he said. "For a human."
"For a human?"
"Don't push it, little Speaker." But his eyes were almost warm. "Come. We need to leave before they gather reinforcements. I have a lair in the mountains. You'll be safe there while we plan our next move."
"Your lair?"
"Unless you'd prefer to sleep in the wilderness?" He raised an eyebrow. "I may be a monster, but I'm not uncivilized."
Before I could respond, he transformed back into his dragon form. His massive claw reached down and—surprisingly gently—scooped me up.
"Hold on," he advised.
Then we launched into the sky.
I screamed—from terror and exhilaration and the pure insanity of what was happening. Below us, the kingdom spread out like a map. The capital. The forests. The mountains. Everything looked so small from up here.
Everything I'd lost. Everything I'd gained.
As we flew higher, Ashkaroth's voice rumbled in my mind. "You know this changes everything, don't you? By bonding with me, by freeing me, you've declared war on your entire kingdom."
"I know," I thought back.
"They'll hunt us. Try to kill us. Send armies."
"I know."
"And you're not afraid?"
I looked down at the world below—at the kingdom that betrayed me, at the life that was stolen, at the future I was going to take back by force.
"I'm terrified," I admitted. "But I'm more angry than afraid. And anger is useful."
His laugh echoed through our bond, dark and approving. "Oh, little Speaker. I think I'm going to enjoy having you around."
As we soared toward the mountains and whatever came next, I realized something: I'd started this day expecting to die.
Instead, I'd been reborn.
And the kingdom that tried to kill me was going to learn what happens when you push a princess too far.
Especially when she has a dragon on her side.