Elara's POV
I don't wait for morning.
The second the dragon mark stops burning, I'm out of bed and pounding on Kaelen's door.
We need to talk. Now.
The door opens. Kaelen looks exhausted, like he hasn't slept. His silver eyes widen when he sees my shoulder.
It changed, he says quietly.
It's a countdown. Seven days until the bond completes. Seven days until one of us dies. I push past him into his room. So we're not wasting a single second. Start talking. What's this bond? How does it work? And how do I stop it from killing me?
He closes the door. You can't stop it.
Wrong answer.
Elara
No. I spin to face him. I just got visited by the ghost of my past self who told me this is my last life. No more chances. No more reincarnations. So you're going to tell me everything, right now, or I'm walking out of this castle and taking my chances with the assassins.
We stare at each other.
Finally, he sighs. Sit down. This is going to take a while.
We sit at his desk. He pulls out the old book from last night, flips to a marked page.
The bond forms when a dragon finds their true mate, he begins. It's magical, automatic, and irreversible. Once it starts, it takes seven days to complete.
And then what?
Then we're connected. Forever. I'll feel your emotions. You'll feel mine. We'll be able to sense each other across any distance. And if one of us dies... He pauses. The other dies too.
My stomach drops. So if the killer succeeds
We both die. Yes. He meets my eyes. That's why they've been targeting the brides. Kill you, kill me. Two birds, one stone.
But you've had seven brides already. Why didn't the bond kill you when they died?
Because it never completed. They all died before the seven days finished. His voice is hollow. The bond needs time to fully form. Whoever's behind this has been very careful about timing.
I process this. So I have seven days to find the killer, stop them, and survive long enough for the bond to complete. Because if I die before then, you live. But if I die after, we both go.
Essentially.
That's insane.
Welcome to my life. He almost smiles. Almost. The good news is, once the bond completes, you'll have access to some of my power. Dragon strength, faster healing, enhanced senses. You'll be much harder to kill.
The bad news?
You have to survive six more days first.
Great. Just great.
Sylas said you'd train me. To defend myself.
He's right. Kaelen stands. Get dressed in something you can move in. We start immediately.
Twenty minutes later, I'm in the castle's training yard wearing borrowed leather pants and a tunic that's too big. Sylas is there too, arms crossed, looking amused.
Ready to not die? he asks.
Hilarious.
I try. He tosses me a wooden practice sword. Lesson one: don't drop your weapon.
I catch it. Barely.
For the next two hours, they drill me relentlessly. How to hold a sword. How to dodge. How to use my smaller size as an advantage.
I'm terrible at all of it.
You're thinking too much, Kaelen says after I trip over my own feet for the fifth time. Stop trying to predict and just react.
Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's going to die if I mess up!
Actually, I am. That's the whole point of the bond.
Right. That.
He comes closer, adjusts my grip on the sword. Try again. And this time, trust your instincts.
His hands are warm on mine. The dragon mark tingles where our skin touches.
I swallow hard and focus on the training dummy in front of me.
Strike. Block. Dodge. Strike again.
Better. Still clumsy, but better.
Good, Sylas calls out. Now imagine the dummy is trying to kill you.
I imagine Theron's face instead. Suddenly, my strikes get much more enthusiastic.
There we go, Kaelen says with approval. Channel the anger.
We train until I can barely lift my arms. Then Sylas brings out a different weapon dagger.
Swords are great, but this is what'll save your life in close quarters. He demonstrates a quick slash. Keep it hidden. Use it only when you're sure of the strike. And aim for vital areas.
You mean kill people.
I mean survive. His dragon eyes are serious. The assassins won't hesitate. Neither should you.
By midday, I'm covered in bruises and sweat. My muscles scream. But I can handle the dagger without dropping it, and I've actually managed to hit the training dummy a few times.
Enough, Kaelen says. You need to eat and rest. We'll continue tonight.
Tonight? I thought we had all day.
You need more than combat training. He heads toward the castle. This afternoon, you're learning about the castle's defenses, escape routes, and safe rooms. Tonight, we work on sensing magic. If you can feel when someone's using spells against you, you'll have warning before they strike.
My head spins. How am I supposed to learn all this in six days?
Quickly. He glances back. Or you won't learn it at all.
After a quick lunch, Sylas walks me through the entire castle. Shows me hidden passages, rooms that lock from the inside, windows that lead to escape routes.
Memorize everything, he says. In an emergency, you won't have time to think.
We're passing through the east wing when I see it a door covered in chains and locks.
What's in there? I ask.
Sylas's face goes dark. The memorial room. Where the king keeps
The pieces of the dead brides. I know. I walk closer. Can I see it?
Why would you want to?
Because they're me. Past versions of me. Don't I have a right to know who I was?
He considers this. The king won't like it.
The king doesn't get to decide everything about my life. Or my deaths. I reach for the locks. Help me open it or I'll find a way myself.
Sylas sighs. You're stubborn. Just like the others.
Is that good or bad?
Depends on whether it keeps you alive. He pulls out a key ring, starts unlocking chains. Don't touch anything. And don't stay long. This room... it does things to people.
The last chain falls away. The door swings open.
Inside is a small, circular room lit by floating candles. Seven pedestals, each holding a single item.
A silver hairbrush. A blue silk ribbon. A golden locket. A white glove. A pearl earring. A red leather journal. A crystal music box.
My breath catches. These belonged to me. All different versions, but still me.
I walk to the journal, reach for it
Don't. Sylas grabs my wrist. I said don't touch.
Why not?
Because the items carry memory echoes. If you touch them, you'll see how they died. And you're not ready for that.
I pull my hand back, but I can't stop staring at the journal. Which one was I?
The sixth bride. You loved writing. Used to spend hours in the library. His voice softens. You were happy here. For a while.
What was my name?
Elara. Same as now. You're always Elara, just with different last names.
Seven versions of me. Seven different lives. Seven tragic endings.
How did she how did I die?
Sylas hesitates. The journal might tell you. But reading it might break you.
I'm about to ask more when alarm bells shatter the silence.
Sylas's head snaps up. No. Not again. Not this soon.
What's happening?
The barrier's been breached. Someone's in the castle. He shoves me toward the door. Run. Get to Kaelen's chambers. Lock yourself in. Don't open the door for anyone.
What about you?
I'll handle this. Go!
I run. Through hallways, upstairs, my heart pounding.
Behind me, I hear shouting. Fighting. Something crashes.
I'm almost to Kaelen's chambers when someone steps out of a side passage, blocking my path.
It's Mora. The housekeeper. Sweet, grieving Mora.
But her face isn't sweet anymore. It's twisted with rage.
I warned you to leave, she says. I gave you a chance.
In her hand, she holds a knife. The blade glows with blue fire dragon fire.
Mora, please
My daughter is dead because of him! she screams. And you all of you just keep coming back. Keep giving him hope. Keep making him think he deserves love. Tears stream down her face. Well, you don't get to have what Celeste lost. None of you do.
She lunges.
I dodge on pure instinct, Sylas's training kicking in. The knife slashes past my shoulder, so close I feel the heat.
You're the killer, I gasp. You've been murdering the brides.
They deserved it! Mora spins, slashes again. You all deserve it! Coming here, making him smile, making him forget his crimes!
I back away, but there's nowhere to go. She's between me and the only escape route.
Mora, I'm sorry about Celeste, but
Don't you dare say her name! The knife burns brighter. You don't get to speak of her!
She attacks again. This time, I'm not fast enough.
The blade cuts across my arm. Pain explodes, and I smell my own flesh burning.
I stumble, fall to the floor.
Mora stands over me, raising the knife for a killing blow.
I'm sorry, she whispers. But you're the eighth. And the eighth is the final one. You have to die. It's the only way to complete the ritual.
Ritual?
What ritual? I choke out.
She smiles through her tears. The one that will resurrect my daughter. Eight souls for one. Eight brides to bring back one lost child. The knife comes down. Thank you for your sacrifice.
I close my eyes, knowing I can't dodge this time
A roar shakes the entire castle.
Wind explodes through the hallway. The knife is ripped from Mora's hand.
I look up to see Kaelen in half-dragon form, silver scales covering his body, wings spread wide, eyes blazing with pure rage.
Step. Away. From. Her. Each word is a growl.
Mora stumbles backward. My lord, I can explain
You murdered them. His voice could shatter stone. All seven. It was you.
I had to! For Celeste! The witch promised if I killed eight brides, she'd bring my daughter back! Mora is sobbing now. I'm so close. Just one more. Please, my lord, just let me finish
Kaelen's claws extend. You killed seven innocent women. You've been working with the witch who cursed me. And you dare ask for mercy?
My daughter
Is gone! His roar echoes through the castle. And no amount of murder will bring her back!
He moves faster than I can see. One moment he's across the hallway. The next, his hand is around Mora's throat, lifting her off the ground.
Kaelen, don't! I struggle to stand, my burned arm screaming. She's been manipulated! The witch lied to her!
She killed seven versions of you, he snarls. She was about to kill the eighth. Give me one reason she deserves to live.
Mora claws at his hand, gasping for air.
I could let him do it. Let him kill the woman who's murdered me seven times.
But that won't break the cycle. Won't stop the curse.
Because we need her alive, I say. She's been working with the witch. She knows things. She can help us stop this.
Kaelen's eyes meet mine. You're defending your murderer.
I'm thinking strategically. Kill her, we lose information. I walk closer, even though every step hurts. Please. Put her down.
For a moment, I think he won't listen.
Then he drops Mora. She crumples to the floor, coughing.
Bind her, he orders guards who've just arrived. Take her to the dungeons. I want to know everything she knows about the witch and this ritual.
They drag Mora away. She's still crying, still calling for Celeste.
Kaelen turns to me, and his rage dissolves into concern. Your arm
I'll live. Though the burn is agony. We found the killer.
One of them. He gently examines my wound. But the witch is still out there. And now she knows Mora failed.
Which means she'll come herself.
Exactly. He picks me up carefully. Come on. Liora needs to treat this before it gets infected.
As he carries me toward the healer's room, I ask the question I'm afraid to know the answer to: The ritual Mora mentioned. Eight souls for one resurrection. Is that real?
Kaelen's jaw clenches. It's real. Dark magic. Forbidden for centuries.
And if Mora had killed me... would it have worked? Would Celeste have come back?
He's silent for a long moment.
No, he finally says. The witch lied. The ritual doesn't resurrect anyone. It does something much worse.
What?
He looks down at me with those silver eyes full of ancient sorrow.
It transfers all eight souls into the witch's body, giving her immortality and power beyond measure. Celeste would still be dead. And you all eight versions of you would be trapped inside the witch, conscious but helpless, for eternity.
Horror floods through me. So Mora was killing her daughter's memory for nothing.
Worse than nothing. She was feeding a monster. He kicks open the healer's door. Liora! I need you!
As the healer rushes over to treat my burn, one thought circles my mind:
We stopped Mora. We found one killer.
But the real enemy is still out there.
And she's been planning this for eight lifetimes.
I look at my dragon mark. The countdown dragon now shows six days instead of seven.
Six days to stop an immortal witch.
Six days to break an unbreakable curse.
Six days to save not just this life, but all eight lives I've ever lived.
The game just changed completely.