Elara's POV
Sylas drags me through hallways that twist and turn like a maze.
Behind us, I hear screams. Metal clashing. Something that sounds like thunder but isn't.
What's happening back there? I gasp, struggling to keep up.
Dragon King's handling it. Sylas's grip on my arm is iron. Your job is to stay alive.
We reach a dead end just a blank stone wall.
Sylas presses his palm against it. The wall ripples like water, then opens into a hidden doorway.
Inside. Now.
I stumble through. The room beyond is small, lit by glowing crystals embedded in the walls. No windows. One door. Shelves stocked with food and water.
A prison designed to look like safety.
Stay here until I come back, Sylas orders. Don't open the door for anyone. Not even the king.
Why not even
But he's already gone, the stone wall sealing shut behind him.
I'm alone.
I sink to the floor, my whole body shaking. This is insane. Completely insane.
Less than a day ago, I was scrubbing floors. Now I'm hiding in a secret room while assassins attack a dragon castle.
The note is still crumpled in my hand. I smooth it out, read it again.
Don't trust the king. He killed them all himself.
Is it true? Could Kaelen be the murderer?
He seemed so genuine. So desperate to protect me. But what if that's part of his game? What if he lures women here, makes them trust him, then kills them?
No. I saw the fear in his eyes. The guilt. That wasn't fake.
Was it?
A sound makes me freeze footsteps outside the wall.
Elara? A woman's voice. The same sweet voice from before. Are you in there, dear?
Mora. The housekeeper.
I don't answer.
I know you're frightened, she continues. But you're safe now. Let me in. I'll protect you.
Something about her voice makes my skin crawl. Too sweet. Too concerned.
Sylas said not to open the door, I call out.
Sylas is loyal to the king, Mora says, and now her voice sounds different. Harder. And the king is the one killing you all. Think about it, dear. Seven brides, seven deaths. Who's the common factor?
My heart pounds. She's right. Kaelen is the common factor.
He killed my daughter, Mora says quietly. His third bride. Beautiful Celeste. She was only nineteen.
Oh god.
I tried to warn the others, Mora continues. But they never listened. They all believed his lies. And they all died. Please, Elara. Don't be the eighth. Let me help you escape.
I want to believe her. Want to trust someone.
But Kaelen's words echo in my head: Don't open the door for anyone.
If you want to help me, I say carefully, then tell me how your daughter died.
Silence.
She burned, Mora finally says. From the inside out. Dragon fire. The king's curse. That's what he tells everyone that they die from the curse. But it's not the curse, dear. It's him. He burns them alive when he gets bored.
My stomach lurches.
How do I know you're telling the truth? I whisper.
Because I have proof. Something slides under the gap at the bottom of the stone wall. Look.
I crawl over, pick it up. It's a drawing sketch of a beautiful young woman with Mora's eyes. Written at the bottom: Celeste. Beloved daughter. Murdered by the Dragon King.
He keeps trophies, Mora says. Pieces of each bride. Hair, jewelry, sometimes bones. There's a room in the east tower where he stores them. Ask Sylas about it. Ask the king himself. See if they deny it.
I stare at the drawing, my hands shaking.
I'm going to count to ten, Mora says. Then I'm leaving. If you want to live, come with me now. I have horses ready. We can be gone before anyone notices.
And if I don't?
Then you'll die like the others. And I'll have failed another girl. Her voice cracks. Please. I can't watch it happen again.
She starts counting.
One.
I look at the drawing. At Celeste's kind eyes.
Two.
Could Kaelen really be a killer? Could I be that wrong about him?
Three.
But if Mora's telling the truth, why did she wait until now? Why not warn me earlier?
Four.
And why does she want me to leave so badly?
Five.
Unless... unless getting me to leave is the plan. Maybe the real killer wants me out of the safe room.
Six.
Or maybe I'm overthinking this. Maybe Mora really is trying to save me.
Seven.
I stand up, walk to the wall.
Eight.
My hand hovers over the stone.
Nine.
I make my choice.
I'm staying, I say firmly.
Silence. Long enough that I think she's left.
Then: So be it. Your death is on your own head.
Footsteps retreat.
I sink back to the floor, clutching Celeste's drawing.
Did I just make the right choice? Or did I just seal my fate?
I don't know how long I sit there. Could be minutes. Could be hours.
Finally, the wall ripples open.
Sylas steps through, covered in blood. Not his own, I think. I hope.
Is it over? I ask.
For now. He looks exhausted. The assassins are dead. The king's checking the perimeter.
Mora came to see me.
His whole body goes rigid. What did she say?
I tell him everything. About the note. About Celeste. About the room in the east tower with the trophies.
Sylas closes his eyes. That manipulative witch.
So it's not true? About the trophies?
Oh, it's true. He opens his eyes again. There is a room with pieces of each bride. But it's not what she made it sound like.
Then what is it?
A memorial. The king keeps one item from each woman he couldn't save. Not as trophies. As reminders. As punishment for himself. Sylas runs a hand through his hair. He tortures himself with their memories every single day.
And Celeste? Did she burn from dragon fire?
Yes. But not from the king's fire. Sylas sits heavily on the floor beside me. From the murderer's. Whoever's killing these women uses dragon fire to do it. Makes it look like the curse. Makes the king think he's the one killing them.
Oh.
So the king really is innocent?
As innocent as any of us can be in this mess. Sylas takes the drawing from my hands. Mora blames him because it's easier than accepting the truth that her daughter was murdered and we still don't know by who.
Why would she try to get me to leave, then?
Because she's trying to save you. In her twisted way. She thinks if you leave before the bond forms, you'll survive. He hands the drawing back. She's not the murderer. Just a broken mother who's lost too much.
I stare at Celeste's face. Nineteen years old. Dead.
Sylas? What if I can't figure out who the killer is in time?
Then you die, the king loses his humanity, and whoever's behind this wins. He meets my eyes. No pressure.
Great. Absolutely great.
Can I leave this room now?
The king wants you in his chambers. Says it's the only place he can guarantee your safety.
My face burns. His chambers?
Separate beds, Sylas says quickly. He's not that kind of monster. But his room has wards that even I can't break through. If someone tries to kill you there, he'll know immediately.
I guess I don't have a choice.
Sylas leads me through the castle. It's quieter now. Servants peek out from doorways, whispering as we pass. I see scorch marks on the walls, blood on the floor.
The battle was worse than I thought.
We reach a massive door carved with dragons. Sylas knocks once.
Enter, Kaelen's voice.
Sylas opens the door, nudges me inside, then closes it behind me.
Kaelen stands by the window, still in his torn clothes, blood splattered across his chest. He doesn't turn around.
Are you hurt? he asks.
No. You?
I'll heal. He finally turns to face me. Mora spoke to you.
How did you
I have eyes everywhere. And Mora's grief makes her predictable. He walks toward me slowly. Did you believe her?
I wanted to, I admit. It would be easier if you were the villain. Then I'd know who to fight.
And now?
Now I don't know anything. I'm so tired. So confused. How do I know you're not just a better liar than she is?
He stops right in front of me. Close enough that I can see the silver flecks in his eyes.
You don't, he says simply. You'll have to decide for yourself who to trust. And live with the consequences of that choice.
That's not helpful.
It's honest. He turns away, walks to a door on the far side of the room. Your bedroom is through there. Mine is here. We share the common space. Don't cross into my room without permission.
I wouldn't dream of it.
Good. He starts to leave, then pauses. Elara? Thank you.
For what?
For staying in the safe room. For not running. For... He struggles for words. For still being alive.
Then he's gone, disappearing into his private chamber.
I stand alone in the Dragon King's rooms, exhausted and terrified and completely out of my depth.
I'm about to go to my bedroom when I see it a letter on the table, sealed with black wax.
My name is written on the front in elegant script.
My hands shake as I break the seal and unfold it.
The message inside makes my blood run cold:
Dearest Elara,
Welcome to the game. You've survived the first test, which is more than most. But the real challenges haven't even begun.
Your Dragon King isn't who he pretends to be. Neither is his loyal commander. Neither is the grieving housekeeper. Everyone in this castle is lying to you. Everyone has secrets.
Including you.
You don't remember yet, but you've been here before. In another life. Another time. And you died here, just like all the others.
This is your eighth life, Elara. Your eighth chance.
Try not to waste it.
P.S. - Check your left shoulder. You'll find the proof.
Yours in eternity,The one who's been waiting
My shoulder?
With shaking hands, I pull down the collar of my nightgown and look at my left shoulder in the mirror across the room.
There's a mark there I've never seen before. A brand, maybe. Or a birthmark that appeared out of nowhere.
It's a dragon, small and silver, curled in a circle.
The exact same dragon that's carved into Kaelen's bedroom door.
I've been here before.
I died here before.
And somehow, impossibly, I came back.
The letter slips from my numb fingers and falls to the floor.
Outside the window, lightning splits the sky, and in the flash of light, I see ita figure standing in the courtyard below, looking up at me.
A woman in a white dress.
A woman who looks exactly like me.
She smiles, raises one hand in a wave.
Then disappears like she was never there at all.
I stumble backward, my heart racing so fast I think it might explode.
What's happening? What is any of this?
I need to tell Kaelen. Need to show him the letter. Need answers.
I run to his door and pound on it.
Kaelen! Open up! Something's
The door swings open. But Kaelen's not there.
The room is empty.
And on his bed, written in what looks like ash, is a message:
THE KING IS ALREADY DEAD. WHAT YOU'RE TALKING TO IS SOMETHING ELSE. RUN.