Elara POV
"We need to talk," they whispered quickly. "Before it's too late."
I blinked. My mouth fell open.
"Lyra?" I breathed. "The Dragon King's messenger?"
The silver-haired woman pressed a finger to her lips. Her amber eyes glowed in the darkness. She moved like smoke, silent and strange.
"Drink this." She shoved a small vial into my hands. "When they give you the drugged tea tomorrow, pretend to drink it. Then take this instead. It will make you seem asleep, but you'll stay awake. You'll remember everything."
"Why are you helping me?" My hands shook around the vial.
"Because I know what they're planning." Her voice was sad. "And you deserve a fighting chance. Hide that well. Trust no one. Survive."
She slipped back out the door before I could ask anything else.
I stared at the vial. Inside, purple liquid whirled like storm clouds.
Did I believe her? Could I?
I hid the bottle under my mattress and didn't sleep at all that night.
The next evening came too fast.
A girl brought me tea, just like Seraphina promised. My hands shook as I lifted the cup. I pretended to drink, holding the liquid in my mouth. The moment the maid turned away, I spit it into my pillow.
Then I grabbed Lyra's vial from under my mattress and swallowed it in one gulp.
It tastes like metal and moonlight.
My eyes grew heavy. My body felt strange—cold and faraway, like I was floating above myself. But my mind stayed sharp. Awake. Aware.
I heard everything.
Seraphina's voice: "She's out. Dress her quickly."
Hands pulled me up. Changed my clothes. Something heavy rested on my head—a crown. They tied my wrists with silk rope that dug into my skin.
"Perfect." Seraphina laughed. "Even I almost believe she's me. Goodbye, little sister. Try not to die too quickly."
They carried me outside. Cold night air hit my face. They threw me into a carriage like a sack of grain.
The carriage jerked forward. We were moving.
I kept my eyes closed. Kept breathing slowly. Waited.
Hours passed. Maybe days. Time felt wrong.
Finally, I let my eyes flutter open.
Morning light streamed through the train window. My whole body ached. The crown pressed into my head like iron teeth. My tied hands had gone numb.
I sat up slowly and looked outside.
My heart stopped.
Another wagon rolled beside ours. Not a fancy carriage—a jail cage on wheels.
And inside that cage, behind iron bars, was Mama.
"Mama!" I screamed. I threw myself at the carriage window. "MAMA!"
She looked up. Her face was bruised. Her dress was torn. When she saw me, she started crying.
"Elara! Oh gods, Elara!"
"I'm here! I'm right here!" Tears poured down my face. "Don't worry! I'll get us out! I'll—"
A guard on horseback rode up beside my window. He was big, with a scar across his face and mean little eyes.
"Sit down, Princess," he mocked. "And shut your mouth."
"Let my mother go!" I shouted. "She didn't do anything!"
"Your mother?" He laughed. It was an ugly sound. "Oh, that's right. You're the bastard trying to be royalty. Well, here's how this works, girl. You act like Princess Seraphina Blackwell. You smile. You wave. You marry the Dragon King like a good little girl. And if you don't..." He pointed at Mama's box. "We'll cut out her tongue first. Then her fingers. Then we'll really get creative."
I wanted to throw up.
"You're monsters," I whispered.
"We're following orders." He grinned. "Now sit back and enjoy the ride. It's a long way to the North."
He rode away. Mama pressed her face against the bars, reaching toward me even though we were too far apart.
I couldn't reach her. Couldn't save her. Couldn't do anything.
I was stuck.
The trip was a nightmare.
We drove for days. Maybe a week. Time blurred together into endless bouncing roads and hungry stomachs. They fed me once a day—stale bread and water. Through the cage wagon's bars, I watched them feed Mama even less.
But the worst part wasn't the hunger or the pain.
It was watching the world change.
On the first day, we went through normal farmland. Green fields. Happy towns. Children waved at our fancy wagon, not knowing what was really inside.
By the second day, the farms vanished. The trees got taller, darker. Their stems twisted like broken fingers.
On the third day, I saw eyes in the trees. Glowing. Watching.
"What is that?" I whispered to myself.
"Demons," a guard answered. He sounded scared. "We're getting close to the border. Stay in the cart. Don't make noise. They're attracted to fear."
I pressed back against my seat.
On the fourth day, the trees became something else entirely. Their skin was black as coal. Their leaves dripped something that looked like blood. And faces—actual faces—grew in the wood, mouths open in silent screams.
"This can't be real," I breathed. "This can't be real."
But it was. All the fairytales Mama told me. All the stories I'd read in the library. They weren't stories.
They were signs.
On the fifth day, I saw my first monster.
She stood beside the road, watching our caravan pass. She looked like a beautiful woman—long silver hair, perfect skin, flowy dress. But when she smiled at me, I saw her teeth.
Too many teeth. Sharp as knives. Rows and rows of them.
And her eyes... her eyes were completely black. Empty. Hungry.
I couldn't move. Couldn't scream. Could only stare as she tilted her head, studying me like I was dinner.
Then she waved.
And disappeared into smoke.
"Dear gods," I whimpered. "Dear gods, what is this place?"
Nobody answered.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like monsters. Every sound made me jump.
Through my window, I watched Mama shivering in her cage. No cover. No warmth. Just iron bars and cold night air.
This was my fault. I'd listened to Seraphina's plan. I'd gotten caught. Now Mama was hurting because of me.
Hot tears slid down my face.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, even though she couldn't hear. "I'm so sorry, Mama."
On the seventh day, everything changed.
I woke to yelling. The carriage jerked to a stop so hard I flew forward and hit my head.
"What's happening?" I called out. "Why did we stop?"
No one answered.
I pressed my face to the window. The guards were all looking at something ahead. Something I couldn't see.
Then the carriage door burst open.
I screamed.
A woman stood there. But not human—I knew that instantly. Her skin shimmered silver like fish scales. Her eyes glowed orange like fire. When she spoke, her voice echoed, like two people talking at once.
"Princess Seraphina Blackwell," she said. "I am Lyra Moonshadow, assistant to Dragon King Cadmus Vael. Welcome to the North."
It was her. The runner who'd given me the vial.
She looked at me, and for just a second, something sparked in her strange eyes. A warning? A message?
"Come," she ordered. "The Dragon King is waiting. And trust me, Princess—you don't want to keep him waiting long."
She reached for my arm.
And behind her, through the open door, I saw it.
A huge castle rising from mountains that smoked and burned. A palace built into a volcano, with towers that touched the clouds and walls that glowed red like flames.
The Scorched Palace.
The Dragon King's home.
My prison.
My grave.
Lyra pulled me from the carriage. My legs barely worked. The guards untied my hands but kept weapons pointing at my back.
"Move," one of them hissed. "And remember—your mother's life depends on your performance."
I stumbled forward on shaking legs.
The palace doors opened like a mouth taking me whole.
And somewhere inside, I knew, the Dragon King was waiting.
The monster who would kill me when he learned the truth.