Steam curled around Rhea as she sank slowly into the warm bath, the sweet scent of mint petals drifting across the surface. Her muscles relaxed, releasing the tension of a day that had felt too strange, too charged. She exhaled softly, letting her hair slip beneath the water.
For a moment, she felt weightless.
Safe.
Normal.
But the moment her body fully submerged, the water shifted.
Not like heat spreading.
Not like waves settling.
It moved.
As if welcoming her.
The surface rippled in slow, circular patterns that brushed gently along her skin, rising and falling in a rhythm she didn't understand. Rhea blinked, startled.
"Hello?" she whispered into the empty bathroom, half-laughing, half-frightened. "Is someone… there?"
Only silence answered.
Then the water rose—barely, delicately—like a warm hand gliding across her waist. Rhea inhaled sharply, her breath catching.
No.
Her pulse jumped.
No, no… this couldn't be—
Another swirl of warmth curled around her thigh, gentle and slow, like a caress meant to soothe… or explore.
Rhea's fingers gripped the edge of the tub. "Stop—what… what are you doing?"
But the water didn't stop.
It moved with a strange tenderness, sliding in soft waves over her stomach, brushing her ribs, rising teasingly close to—
Her heart raced.
Heat bloomed through her chest.
Her breath came unsteady.
Her cheeks burned.
"Why… why does it feel like this?" she whispered, trembling.
The water wasn't just reacting.
It was… answering something.
Something inside her.
A warmth gathered low in her abdomen, spreading in small bursts with each movement of the water. Rhea's back arched instinctively as the warmth traveled up her spine, her lips parting in a sharp inhale.
"No—this is wrong… this is strange—"
But the water didn't push.
It didn't force.
It coaxed, drawing shivers from her in slow, sensual pulses that made her toes curl beneath the surface.
She squeezed her eyes shut as a soft moan slipped from her lips—too quick, too unguarded. Her hands flew to her mouth, horrified.
"Why am I… reacting like this…?" she whispered.
The water swirled again—this time with a gentleness that felt intimate, worshipful, like a lover brushing a thumb across flushed skin.
Her breath hitched.
Something deep inside her responded instinctively, helplessly.
That was when she felt it.
A presence.
Distant but sharp.
A pull, like her soul brushing against another.
Far beneath the ocean temples,
Seryon's eyes snapped open.
The Water Dragon God inhaled sharply as a wave of raw, trembling heat hit him across realms.
Her heat.
Her breath.
Her pulse.
Her confusion.
Her awakening.
His fingers tightened against the marble edge of his realm pool as her sensations crashed through his mind like rushing tides.
"So soon?" he murmured, voice hoarse. "You feel us already?"
The ocean surged in answer.
In the mortal world, the bathwater trembled—then wrapped around Rhea's waist with a slow, seductive warmth that made her gasp aloud. Her hand slipped against the tub's edge, her body arching helplessly.
"S-stop—please, I don't understand—"
The water stilled immediately.
As if listening.
As if it didn't want to frighten her.
Only one last warm pulse rolled through the water in a gentle farewell, brushing her skin like a whisper.
Then everything fell quiet.
Rhea collapsed forward slightly, panting, her body heated and trembling.
She had no idea what she had almost awakened.
But the Water Dragon God did.
And miles away, the sky began to darken, the earth shuddering faintly—the first signs of the world beginning to break.
Rhea leaned back in the tub, pressing a trembling hand over her collarbone as the faint golden glow returned beneath her skin.
"What is happening to me…?"
But the world was already answering—
just not in a language she could hear.
The wind outside shifted.
Fire sparked in every torch.
Shadows stretched along the walls.
And the distant sea rose in a quiet, hungry swell.
Her awakening was not hers alone.
The dragon gods felt it.
And the empire would feel it next.
Rhea dressed slowly after her bath, hands trembling as she fastened the last clasp of her gown. Her skin still tingled. Every part of her still felt too aware, too warm, as if the water's phantom touch lingered beneath her clothes. She didn't understand what had happened. She didn't understand why her body reacted like it knew something she didn't.
She pressed her palm against her collarbone, trying to steady her breath. But the faint golden glow beneath her skin pulsed again—soft, warm, like a heartbeat that wasn't hers.
"No…" she whispered. "Please don't start again…"
But her body didn't listen.
The warmth spread lower, then faded abruptly—like something had pulled away from her unwillingly.
Far beneath the ocean, Seryon's hands clenched around the marble edge of his realm pool, breath coming unsteadily.
Her warmth had called him.
Her magic had reached him.
Her innocent confusion had nearly broken his composure.
"You're waking," he murmured. "And the world feels it."
Above him, the tides surged in a violent spiral, rising higher and higher until they slapped against the ancient walls of his domain.
He wasn't the only one who felt it.
In the volcanic abyss, Kaelith froze mid-step, fire flashing violently around him as a sweet, lingering warmth brushed across his senses like a memory of heat against skin.
"What the hell was that…?" he breathed, voice dropping into something dark.
Jealousy—sharp, vicious—flooded him.
Something had touched her first.
Something that wasn't him.
Something that dared to make her gasp like that.
His flames erupted, filling the cavern with crimson light.
In the sky realm, Aelion's eyes snapped open again as a tremor of soft pleasure—not his, hers—rushed through the bond he didn't fully understand yet.
He felt her body tense.
He felt her breath catch.
He felt her heartbeat stutter.
His jaw tightened.
"She's too sensitive," he whispered. "This world will overwhelm her."
Wind roared across the sky realm in a violent burst.
And deep within the mountain, Draeven paused, his golden-brown eyes narrowing. Earth shifted around him, stone groaning under the force of his rising instincts.
"Who touched you like that?" he growled softly into the darkness. "You're ours."
The four dragon gods felt her awakening—felt it more intimately than she ever could. And the world, bound to the same ancient prophecy, began to buckle under the force of that single moment.
Rhea didn't know any of this.
She only knew that, as she stepped out of her chambers, something was wrong with the palace.
The torches flickered violently as she walked past. The walls creaked like old wood bending. Servants rushed through the halls with frantic eyes, whispering in panic.
"The sky—did you see it?"
"The animals are restless—something spooked every horse in the stable."
"My Lord, the seers fainted one after another—"
Rhea's steps faltered.
Her throat tightened.
Her magic pulsed again beneath her skin, and she inhaled sharply. The warmth from earlier flared—too sudden, too intense—making her knees weaken for a heartbeat.
"Not again…" she whispered, clutching her chest.
The palace corridor tilted for a moment, blurring around her. She forced herself forward, trying to breathe.
She hadn't recovered from the bath.
She hadn't even processed it.
And now something else was happening—something much bigger.
The moment she stepped into the palace courtyard, noise exploded around her.
People ran everywhere. Guards shouted orders. A child cried in fear. Horses reared up. The sky above the capital darkened in unnatural swirls, as if a storm were forming without clouds.
Rhea's heart stuttered.
The sky wasn't supposed to do that.
Clouds didn't spiral like whirlpools.
Light didn't bend like ribbons being pulled.
Her father, the Emperor, stood in the center of the chaos, surrounded by generals and priests.
"Father!" Rhea called, her voice small against the uproar.
He turned—and his face paled.
"Rhea," he breathed, moving toward her quickly. "Stay by me. Something is wrong with the heavens."
She wanted to tell him everything.
The water.
The warmth.
The whispers.
The way her body felt like it was responding to something she couldn't see.
But she couldn't form the words. Her throat closed. Her body swayed.
Her father reached for her, but froze when a sudden shockwave of wind blasted across the courtyard.
Everyone screamed.
Rhea stumbled backward as the sky above them pulsed—once, twice, like a heartbeat echoing her own.
A single hairline crack appeared in the clouds.
Just a line.
But it glowed.
Bright.
White.
Wrong.
"What is happening?!" Mira cried from behind her.
Rhea shook her head helplessly. "I don't know—"
But a part of her did know.
A part she didn't want to acknowledge.
A warmth sparked beneath her skin again—deep, intense, dizzying.
This time it didn't feel like a caress.
It felt like a pull.
A summons.
A claim.
She gasped, clutching her collarbone. The golden mark—still faint, still hidden—burned brighter under her dress.
Her father blanched. "Your skin—Rhea, you're glowing—"
She took a step back. The warmth turned into heat, flooding her chest, spreading down her stomach, through her legs. Not like the bath—this was deeper, heavier, overwhelming.
"No—stop—stop!" she cried, terrified of the sensation.
She didn't know she was screaming the same thing in the four realms.
Because each dragon god heard her.
Each one felt her panic tear through their bond.
Aelion looked toward the mortal sky, wind cracking around him.
Kaelith cursed under his breath as fire erupted at his feet.
Seryon stepped forward, water surging around him like a tide rising too fast.
Draeven clenched his fists, stone shattering under the pressure.
"She's afraid," Aelion whispered.
"She's hurting," Seryon murmured.
"She's calling," Draeven growled.
"She needs us," Kaelith snarled.
And the sky split.
Right before Rhea's eyes.
A brilliant, blinding fissure sliced through the clouds with a crack that shook the palace.
Light poured through the opening like molten stars.
Wind roared.
Fire flared.
Water swelled.
Earth trembled.
Rhea covered her ears as the world screamed.
Her knees buckled.
Her magic surged.
And she felt them.
All four.
Awake.
Moving.
Coming.
The crack widened.
A burst of blinding light exploded across the capital.
Rhea cried out as her vision blurred, the world tilting violently.
The last thing she saw—
was four glowing comets descending from the heavens, each trailing the color of its element.
Silver.
Red.
Blue.
Gold.
Her heart stopped.
Her mark burned.
And the world whispered through the wind:
Bride.
Her body collapsed into darkness before she ever touched the ground.