One thought finally cut through his dragon's wild panic, cold and crystal clear.
When he finds her, when he finally sees the vampire who dared to become his mate… he will kill her.
Back in Bloodmere Palace, Noctara was running.
Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone floors as she raced down empty hallways. Lunara was right on her heels.
Guards nodded as they passed. They didn't see the panic on her face. They didn't know her entire world had just been flipped upside down.
Noctara's hands shook as she finally reached her rooms. She slammed the heavy door shut and threw the lock. Then she just leaned against it, trying to catch her breath.
She pressed a hand to her chest. Right where the bond was burning, hotter and stronger with every heartbeat. It felt like a live wire under her skin.
"This cannot be happening." Lunara paced the room, her violet eyes huge. "You cannot be mated to him. Draeven Emberclaw killed your father, Noctara. He's a monster!"
Her voice broke on the last word.
Noctara slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, knees pulled tight to her chest. She was just trying to breathe through it. Through the relentless, pulling need.
"I know," she whispered, the words coming out strangled. "I know, Luna. But the bond… it doesn't care who he is. It doesn't care what he's done. It just pulls."
And she could feel him now. More clearly than before.
She could feel his fury. His bone-deep hatred. And underneath it all, his dragon's absolute, unstoppable determination.
He was coming closer.
"Maybe it'll fade," Lunara said, her voice desperate. "Maybe if you just ignore it—"
"It's not fading." Noctara stood up suddenly and moved to the window. She stared out toward the dark, distant mountains. "It's getting stronger."
The bond was like a compass needle in her chest, spinning until it pointed straight at him. And that direction… it was changing. He was moving. Flying.
Coming here.
"He's coming," she whispered. The terror made her voice shake. "I can feel him. He's flying here right now."
Lunara rushed to the window. Both of them stared up into the black night sky, searching for any sign of movement. For the shape of a massive black dragon.
"We have to tell the Queen," Lunara said, already turning for the door. "We need guards. We need to—"
"No." Noctara grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"What do you mean, no? He's coming to kill you!"
"No one can stop a dragon who's following the mate bond." Noctara's voice sounded hollow. Defeated. "It's the most powerful force there is. You know the stories. Dragon fire can't burn it away. Vampire magic can't break it."
They'd learned that as children. Everyone knew it was true.
Lunara's face crumbled. "Then what do we do?"
Noctara looked back out the window. At the sky where, somewhere, a dragon prince was racing toward her, fueled by rage and magic.
"We wait," she said quietly. "And we pray that when he gets here, he kills me quickly."
"Don't say that!"
"It's the truth." Noctara's laugh was a short, bitter sound. "What else would he do? I'm a vampire. He hates vampires. The bond is just… a cruel joke."
The minutes dragged by like hours.
Noctara and Lunara stood at the window, watching, waiting. The bond grew stronger with every passing second.
Now, Noctara could feel the edges of his emotions. The rage at the universe for cursing him. The dragon's single-minded drive. The war inside him—part of him wanting to find her, another part wanting to destroy her.
Then Lunara gasped and pointed. "There."
In the distance, a massive shape blotted out the stars.
Black scales gleamed dully in the moonlight. Wings that seemed to stretch from one horizon to the other.
A dragon of pure nightmare.
And it was heading straight for them.
"Oh, gods," Noctara breathed.
A heartbeat later, the warning bells began.
Deep, resonant clangs that shook the very stones of Bloodmere Palace. The alarm that meant only one thing: dragon attack.
"DRAGON!" guards shouted from the walls below. "DRAGON INCOMING!"
Chaos erupted. Vampires scattered in the courtyards, running for shelter, scrambling for weapons.
"Everyone to arms!" a captain bellowed. "Protect the palace!"
But the dragon didn't dive toward the city. It didn't breathe fire on the troops.
It flew straight for the palace. Straight for the highest tower.
Straight for her window.
The bond had led him right to her door.
"Get out, Luna." Noctara's voice left no room for argument. It was flat. Final. "Now."
"I'm not leaving you!"
"I will not let you die because of my curse." Noctara turned to her, and her crimson eyes were blazing. "Go. Please."
That last word broke.
Lunara's eyes filled with tears. "Noctara—"
"GO!"
Lunara turned and ran for the door just as the world exploded.
The window shattered inward.
Glass flew everywhere, sharp as razors. The stone around the frame cracked and crumbled.
Noctara threw her arms up over her face as a massive black dragon crashed through her wall like it was made of parchment.
The impact threw her backward. The whole tower shook.
Her dressing table splintered. The beautiful, unfinished wedding dress she'd left hanging was torn from its stand and flung to the floor in a heap of ruined silk.
The dragon landed in the middle of her chambers, far too large for the space. It had to fold its wings tight against its body. Its tail lashed once, smashing a bookshelf to kindling.
And then those eyes—huge, molten gold with slitted pupils—locked onto her.
The focus was absolute and terrifying.
The mate bond screamed between them, so loud and powerful in her head that Noctara's knees buckled. She stumbled back, hit the wall, and barely kept her feet.
Every instinct she had was at war. Half of her was screaming to run, to save herself.
The other half… a treacherous, mad part… was pulling her toward the monster.
She watched, frozen, as the impossible happened.
The dragon began to change.
The black scales melted away into bronzed skin. The vast wings folded and sank into a powerfully muscled back. The enormous form shrank, reshaping itself until, within seconds, a man stood in the wreckage of her room.
And somehow, he was even more terrifying than the dragon.
Draeven Emberclaw.
The Cruel Prince. The Dragon of Emberpeak. The monster from every one of her nightmares, made flesh.
He was tall, powerfully built, with the markings of his dragon scales running up his arms and across his chest like dark tattoos. His hair was the black of a starless night, with streaks of crimson that caught the dim light.
And his eyes…
They were the same molten gold, with the same dragon-slitted pupils, burning with a fury so deep it felt ancient. And underneath the fury… something else. Something that made her breath catch in her throat, despite the terror.
For a long, endless moment, they just stared at each other.
The bond wrapped around them both, pulling, demanding, insisting that they touch.
Draeven's hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. Sharp black claws extended from his fingertips, cutting into his own palms.
Blood dripped onto the broken stone floor.
He was fighting it. Fighting the bond with everything he had.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. Dangerous. It sounded more like a growl than a human voice.
"You."
That one word was soaked in so much hatred that Noctara flinched.
But then, her own ange
r rose. Hot, sharp, and clean. She didn't ask for this. She didn't choose him. He had ruined her life long before tonight.
She had every right to hate him just as much.