Elara POV
"Walk faster, Princess," Lyra hissed in my ear. "And for gods' sake, stop looking so frightened. You're supposed to be a princess, not a rabbit."
My legs felt like water. The palace entry loomed ahead—massive doors carved with dragons breathing fire. Real fire that flickered and hissed as we neared.
"How is that possible?" I breathed.
"Magic." Lyra's amber eyes flicked to me. "Everything here is magic. Get used to it quickly, or you won't survive the day."
The doors swung open on their own. Heat hit my face like an oven. Inside, the palace glowed red and gold—lava flowing beneath glass floors, flames dancing on the walls without burning anything, smoke curling through the air like live creatures.
I wanted to run. Wanted to scream. Wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
But Mama's face flashed in my mind. Her bruised lips. Her empty eyes.
I had to do this. For her.
"Shoulders back," Lyra whispered. "Chin up. You're a princess. Act like it."
I straightened my neck. Lifted my head. The too-heavy crown dug into my head.
Guards flanked us—not human guards. These ones had scales on their heads. Claws instead of toenails. Eyes that glowed like flames.
Dragon movers. They had to be.
One of them looked at me and smiled. His teeth were sharp.
My heart hammered so hard I thought it would burst.
We walked through hallways that seemed endless. Other animals watched from doorways—some beautiful, some terrifying, none of them human. A woman with butterfly wings. A man whose skin sparkled like diamonds. Something with too many arms that skittered away when I looked at it.
"Where are we going?" I whispered.
"The throne room." Lyra didn't look at me. "The entire court is ready to meet you. Every dragon lord, every noble, every creature that matters in this country. They're all watching. Judging. Waiting to see if you're worthy."
"Worthy of what?"
"Of surviving."
We stopped before huge double doors. Two huge guards stood on either side—easily eight feet tall, covered in red scales, with horns curling from their heads.
"Announce her," Lyra ordered.
One guard slammed his stick against the ground. The boom rang like thunder.
"PRINCESS SERAPHINA BLACKWELL!" His voice shook the walls. "BRIDE OF THE DRAGON KING! PEACE OFFERING FROM THE SOUTHERN KINGDOMS!"
The doors opened.
The throne room was huge—bigger than my entire town. Hundreds of creatures filled it, all turning to stare at me. Dragons in human form. Strange beings I had no names for. All of them watching. Waiting.
And at the far end, on a throne cut from black stone that seemed to swallow light itself, sat a man.
No. Not a guy.
A dragon wearing a man's skin.
He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And the most scary.
Dark hair fell to his shoulders. His face could have been made by artists—sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, full lips. But his eyes... his eyes were black as midnight, and when they locked onto me, they started shining amber.
Like fire burning from inside.
"Walk," Lyra whispered, pushing me forward.
My feet moved on their own. One step. Another. The crowd parted like I was sick. I walked down the center aisle, feeling hundreds of eyes burning into my back.
The Dragon King didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched me with those burning eyes.
When I reached the bottom of his chair, my legs gave out. I fell to my knees. The cap slipped forward, nearly falling off my head. I caught it with shaking hands.
Silence pressed down like a weight.
Then the Dragon King spoke.
His speech was deep. Smooth. Cold as cold ice.
"So. You're Princess Seraphina Blackwell."
It wasn't a question. But I nodded anyway.
"Stand up."
I stumbled to my feet. My whole body shook.
He rose from his chair and walked down the steps toward me. He was tall—so tall I had to tilt my head back to see his face. Heat radiated from him like he had fire in his blood.
He circled me slowly, like a wolf studying food.
"The treaty promised a royal bride," he said softly. "A princess of pure blood to unite our kingdoms and seal the peace."
I swallowed hard. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Look at me."
I forced myself to meet his eyes. Up close, they were even more frightening. And beautiful. Like looking into a sunset that could burn you alive.
He leaned closer. Closer. So close I felt his breath on my face.
Then he breathed deeply, like he was smelling me.
His eyes flashed brighter. His jaw clenched.
"Tell me, Princess," he whispered. His voice could cut glass. "Do you know what dragons can do?"
"I... I've heard stories—"
"We can smell lies." His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Like ash on the tongue. Like rot in the air. And right now, standing before me, trying to be someone you're not..."
My heart stopped.
He knew.
Oh gods, he knew.
"You smell like the most delicious lie I've ever encountered."
The throne room exploded in gasps and whispers. Dragons shifted in their seats. Guards reached for weapons.
I couldn't move. Couldn't think.
"I—I am Princess Seraphina—"
"No." His voice cracked like a whip. "You're not."
He grabbed my chin, forcing me to keep looking at him. His hand was burning hot. His claws pressed against my skin—not breaking it, but threatening to.
"You're an imposter," he said loud enough for everyone to hear. "A fake. A fake sent by the Southern Kingdoms to mock me."
"No! Please! I can explain—"
"Explain what? That your kingdom thinks I'm stupid? That they think they can trick the Dragon King with a common girl in a crown?"
Tears poured down my face. "Please, my mother—"
"Silence!" He released my chin and stepped back. His whole body seemed to glow with rage. "The contract was clear. A royal wife or war. Your kingdom has chosen war."
"No!" I grabbed his arm without thinking. "Please, wait! Let me explain! They forced me! My mother will die if I don't—"
He looked down at my hand on his arm. Everyone in the room went completely still.
I'd just touched the Dragon King without permission.
I was dead.
But he didn't pull away. Instead, he stared at my hand like it was the weirdest thing he'd ever seen.
"You're crying," he said quietly. "Real tears. And your heart..." He pressed his hand over his own chest. "It's running like a bird's. You're not just scared. You're scared."
"Yes," I sobbed. "Yes, I'm scared! They'll kill my mother if I don't do this! Please, I didn't want to trick you! I don't want to be here! I just want to save her!"
His eyes searched my face. For what, I didn't know.
Then he spoke, and his words changed everything.
"What's your real name?"
I paused. If I told him, he'd know for sure I was a fake. He'd send me home. They'd kill Mama.
But if I lied again, he'd smell it. He'd kill me right here.
I had no choice.
"Elara," I whispered. "My name is Elara Ashton."
The Dragon King was silent for a long, terrible moment.
Then he smiled. It was sharp and cold and full of something I couldn't name.
"Well, Elara Ashton," he said softly. "You and I are going to have a very interesting talk. Guards—take her to the guest rooms. Lock the doors. Don't let her out until I send for her."
"What?" Panic burst in my chest. "What are you going to do?"
He leaned down until his lips nearly touched my ear.
"I'm going to decide whether to keep you... or return you to your kingdom in pieces."
Guards grabbed my arms before I could reply. They dragged me backward, away from him, away from the chair.
"Wait!" I screamed. "Please! My mother! They have my mother!"
But the Dragon King had already turned away.
The last thing I saw before the doors slammed shut was Lyra's face.
She looked sad.
And that scared me more than anything else.