Death Bound (The Soulsworn Chronicles #1)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

As the pale morning light slipped through the narrow window, I sat perched on a rickety stool, my legs swinging like a restless child while Aeliana dabbed at the bruise blooming on my cheek. The cloth stung, but not nearly as much as my pride.

“I could’ve taken him, you know,” I said, crossing my arms tightly and jutting out my chin. “If I hadn’t been starving—completely drained of strength—I’d have laid that guy flat on his back.”

Aeliana hummed, entirely too amused. “Oh, no doubt. You were just one roasted rat away from total victory. Timing is everything.”

I glared at her, but it was hard to keep a straight face with the corner of her mouth twitching in barely concealed laughter. “You mock me now, but next time? He’s the one who’s going to be face down in the snow.”

“Absolutely,” she replied, smirking as she pressed the damp cloth a little harder than necessary. “You’re the terror of Icespire, after all. A true warrior.”

“Damn right I am,” I shot back, my voice brimming with indignation. But then, as she shifted to dab at another part of my face, I caught her hand and stilled. The words seemed to deflate in my chest, the fire in my voice fading into smoke.

Her eyes softened as they met mine, knowing too much, as always. “You’re not fooling me, Elara,” she said quietly. “I know what you’re doing.”

I tried to pull away, but she didn’t let go, her steady presence grounding me even as the weight of last night pressed back down on my chest. “What am I doing?” I muttered, though my voice lacked conviction.

“Distracting yourself,” she said simply, her words a blade cutting through the air between us. “From what you overheard. From what you can’t stop turning over in your mind.”

I swallowed hard, my gaze flickering away to the frosted windowpane. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her hand stayed firm on mine, her voice softer now but no less pointed. “The Dragon King, Elara. The soldiers whispering about him testing the boundary. Their fear.” She paused, letting the weight of it settle. “I heard you tossing and turning all night.”

“It’s just… what if he does come?” I asked. She was right. I’d been consumed with worry all night.

Aeliana didn’t flinch. Instead, she pressed the cloth gently against my cheek again, her voice steady as steel. “Then we face him. Together. Just like we always do.”

I sighed, unable to shake the fear that had kept me up since I heard the soldiers’ whispers. “It’s just… If he really is pushing, if the boundary fails?—”

“Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes,” she interrupted gently. “One battle at a time, Elara. We’ve got enough to worry about without getting ahead of ourselves.”

“I’d rather not deal with a dragon-riding tyrant if we can help it,” I said, still picturing the fear in the soldiers’ eyes.

Aeliana smiled faintly. “Neither would I. But we have to focus on surviving first. The Dragon King can wait.”

Her laughter was soft, barely more than an exhale, but it warmed the cold air around us. For a moment, we just sat there, her hand still lingering near my face, her gaze far away.

“Do you ever wonder,” she asked quietly, “what life might’ve been like if we hadn’t ended up here? If things had been… different?”

I tilted my head, pretending to think about it, though the truth was, I didn’t want to imagine a world without her in it. “You’d have been off doing princess things. Balls, tea parties, all that nonsense. And me? I’d probably be stealing wine from the royal cellars or charming my way into trouble.”

Her smile widened, wistful now. “And yet somehow, we’d have crossed paths. Maybe at one of those balls?—”

“Where I’d trip over my own feet and spill wine all over your dress,” I finished for her, grinning.

“And I’d smile politely while you stammered out an apology.” Her laugh broke through again, light and unguarded. “We’d have been a disaster.”

“A total disaster,” I agreed, though my grin faded slightly. “But we’d have figured it out. We always do.”

Her smile softened, the weight of something unsaid hanging between us. “Maybe it wasn’t chance,” she murmured. “That we ended up here. Together.”

“Maybe,” I said, keeping my tone light, though my chest ached. “Or maybe it was some cosmic joke, and the universe decided to stick you with me to see how much chaos you could handle.”

She reached for my hand, her fingers cold but steady as she intertwined them with mine. “Whatever it was, I’m grateful,” she said simply. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

I squeezed her hand, trying to ignore the lump rising in my throat. “Don’t give me all the credit, Your Highness. You’ve kept me alive just as much as I’ve kept you.”

Her laugh was soft, but her grip tightened, like she didn’t want to let go. “Still,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I’m glad it’s you, Elara.”

“Me too,” I whispered, holding onto her hand as if that alone could anchor us both.

The moment stretched out, the kind of silence that felt safe, even in the cold depths of the crypt. If I’d known what was coming, I might’ve stayed there forever, holding onto her hand like it was the only thing keeping the world from falling apart. But instead, I let it go.

And then the world shattered.

A roar ripped through the air, deafening and primal, so loud it felt like the stone walls of the crypt themselves trembled in its wake. It was a sound born of fire and fury, ancient and alien, so otherworldly that it seemed to claw its way into my chest, squeezing my heart in a vice of terror.

I froze, every instinct in my body screaming to move, to run, but I couldn’t. My breath caught in my throat as the roar echoed again, deeper this time, rumbling through my bones like the earth itself was growling.

Aeliana was already on her feet, her face drained of color. Her wide eyes flicked to the narrow window, her lips slightly parted in shock. “What was that?” I managed to whisper, though the words felt flimsy, insubstantial against the weight of what we’d just heard.

She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze remained locked on the window, her hands trembling at her sides. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible, but laced with certainty that made my blood run cold. “It sounds like… a dragon.”

The word hung between us, sharp and heavy. I felt it like a blade pressed to my throat, impossible to ignore. My stomach twisted, fear tightening like a fist in my gut. Another roar split the air, closer this time, followed by a distant, earth-shaking boom. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the ground beneath us seemed to groan in protest.

I staggered to my feet, clutching at the cold stone wall for balance. “No,” I said, shaking my head as if I could will it away. “That can’t be. They wouldn’t… It wouldn’t…”

“Elara…”

I moved quickly to the small window, our hearts pounding in unison. As we pressed against the frosted glass, the scene outside was eerily still—the endless white of snowfall, the ghostly outlines of the trees, and the dull gray sky above. But then, my eyes were drawn upward.

Above the crypt, where the magical boundary had always been an invisible protector, the air was shimmering—alive with violent, crackling energy. It wasn’t like anything I’d seen before. Lightning streaked through the sky in jagged, fractured lines, arcing over us in a dome-like formation. It was as though the very fabric of the barrier was breaking apart, its energy surging and sparking wildly in the air.

The lightning writhed, twisting and coiling, casting the frozen landscape in an eerie blue light. Every crackle sent a throb of energy through the ground, rattling the crypt walls around us. It was both beautiful and terrifying—a force of nature unraveling before our eyes.

I grabbed Aeliana’s arm. “The boundary… it’s coming apart.”

She nodded, her face pale as she stared upward, transfixed by the sight. “It’s failing,” she whispered. “The magic… it’s breaking.”

And then, without warning, the lightning intensified. The cracks in the dome-like structure widened, spilling bursts of light as the barrier fractured further. A deafening crack filled the air, as though the sky itself was being torn open. My heart stopped as a bright flash scorched the horizon, casting the crypt in a blinding light.

A wave of fear swept through me. The one thing that had kept the Dragon King and his forces at bay—the only defense between us and the south—was damaged.

A deep rumble reverberated through the crypt walls, shaking the floor beneath us.

Aeliana squeezed my hand. “Elara, we need to run.”

I couldn’t move. Outside, flashes of light—like jagged lightning—streaked across the sky, marking the collapse of the magical boundary that had protected Icespire for centuries.

“Now, Elara!” Aeliana’s shout broke through my fear. She dragged me toward the crypt’s entrance.

The cold hit us as soon as we stepped outside, but the real chill came from the sight above. The dragon was circling—massive wings beating the air into a frenzy, each flap sending waves of ice swirling around us. Its molten scales shimmered in the stormy sky, and I could already feel the heat of the fire gathering in its throat.

The soldiers had wasted no time. They stood in formation, their weapons gleaming in the weak daylight. A Warden Lord’s voice cut through the wind: “Steady! Zephyrcrafters , hold the flanks! Umbraforgers, to the shadows!”

Magic surged around us as the soldiers prepared for the attack. A gust of wind howled, summoned by the Zephyrcrafters, who pushed back the storm with swirling air currents. Shadows stretched and twisted unnaturally, controlled by the Umbraforgers, who melted into the darkness, ready to strike.

“They’re actually going to fight it,” I muttered, half in awe, half in terror.

Aeliana tugged me again, pulling me out of my stupor. “And so are we.”

Before I could protest, a soldier barked, “Get out of the way!” A soldier rushed past, his face streaked with soot, his armor glinting in the light of his ferrokinesis—metal manipulation. He hurled iron spikes at the dragon, each one whistling through the air.

I barely had time to react before a wall of stone erupted from the ground in front of me. “Watch it!” I yelped, diving out of the way just as a Terramolder raised a stone barrier, shielding the soldiers from the dragon’s fire. I hit the ground hard, my breath knocked from my lungs.

“Elara!” Aeliana was at my side in seconds, pulling me to my feet. “You alright?”

“Peachy,” I groaned, rubbing my ribs.

Above us, the dragon roared. With a single beat of its wings, it sent the Zephyrcrafters tumbling through the air. Soldiers scrambled to regroup as the dragon’s fiery roars scorched the earth, turning the snow into steam.

“We have to move!” Aeliana shouted. “We’re exposed out here!”

A shout echoed from nearby. “Fall back! To the crypt!” It was the Warden Lord, his armor scorched but still standing. He waved his sword, signaling the retreat. “Everyone, inside!”

But the dragon wasn’t going to let us retreat that easily. It swooped low, its massive form blotting out the sky. Aeliana pushed me forward just as a sweltering wave of fire engulfed the soldiers behind us. I turned, horror-struck, as the flames swallowed them whole, their screams cut short in the inferno.

“No!” I gasped, but Aeliana pulled me harder, forcing me toward the crypt.

“There’s nothing we can do!” she yelled.

We reached inside of the crypt just as the dragon landed with a deafening crash. Its claws gouged deep into the earth, and with another roar, it lunged at the entrance, flames building in its throat. We couldn’t shut the door. We couldn’t protect ourselves.

“Get down!” I tackled Aeliana, throwing us both to the floor just as the dragon unleashed a torrent of fire. The stone walls shook, and heat seared over us, but the crypt held—for now.

Aeliana lifted her head, eyes wide with determination. “I have to hold it off. Get back!”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” I yelled, scrambling to my feet as the crypt’s doors groaned under the dragon’s relentless attack. Aeliana’s eyes flashed with icy fury, her breath labored.

She raised her hands, and frost spread across the stone walls, thickening them with her cryomancy.

I could see the strain on her face, the ice forming more sluggishly than before. “Get back!” I shouted, pushing her behind me as the dragon reared back, preparing another strike.

A scalding ball of fire erupted from its jaws, racing toward us. The air burned as the flames hurtled closer. I threw myself in front of Aeliana, trying to shield her from the impact.

The fireball slammed into her icy barrier with a deafening explosion, the shock wave rattling the crypt. I felt the freeze shatter, the flames melting through in seconds. Aeliana gasped, stumbling as her magic crumbled.

The crypt, once our last refuge, was now a deathtrap.

“Run!” I yelled, grabbing Aeliana’s hand, pulling her as the roof began to collapse. But she could barely stand, weakened from the effort. I glanced behind us at the blazing entrance, trying to find a way out—but the dragon was closing in, its molten eyes locking onto us.

Suddenly, through the flames and smoke, I saw him—the soldier who punched me yesterday. His eyes were wild with terror, and he was desperately trying to crawl away from the dragon, his armor half-melted to his flesh. His screams were bloodcurdling.

The dragon’s massive claws slammed down on him, pinning him to the ground with a sickening crunch. He shrieked, his body thrashing as the dragon’s talons pierced through him like a knife through butter. His screams became guttural, barely human.

I froze, terrified, as the dragon lowered its massive head, its glowing maw opening wide. In one swift, horrifying motion, it clamped down on the soldier’s torso, tearing him apart with a wet, grisly sound. His limbs twitched violently, blood splattering across the ground as the dragon ripped his body in two, the sound of flesh tearing and bones snapping filling the air.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. The dragon’s jaws worked methodically, crushing bone, shredding sinew. The ground was slick with blood, a gruesome mess of entrails and crushed organs. The stench was overwhelming—burning flesh and iron-rich blood mingling in the air.

“Let’s go!” Aeliana gasped, tugging weakly at my arm. She was barely standing, her strength fading fast.

I snapped back to the present. “Right!” I dragged her behind me, trying to shield her from the gruesome sight as we stumbled deeper into the crypt.

The dragon roared again, its massive wings beating as it turned toward us. Fire licked at the stone walls, and the air was thick with heat and smoke. Behind us, the entrance collapsed, cutting off any chance of escape.

“We can’t outrun it,” I said, panic rising in my throat. The crypt was crumbling around us, and there was no way out.

Aeliana sagged against the wall, her legs barely supporting her. “I… I can’t… keep going,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as her cryomancy drained her.

I looked back at the destruction behind us—blood, fire, and death. The dragon was relentless, and we were running out of time. My heart raced, pounding in my chest, but I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t let Aeliana die here.

“We’re not done yet!” I yelled, pulling Aeliana upright, though my own strength was starting to wane. The crypt was collapsing around us, but we were still alive. The dragon roared outside, a thunderous sound that shook the stone beneath our feet.

Before we could get far, an eerie shadow passed over us, blotting out the flickering flames. My heart stopped. I looked up, and the ceiling above us cracked, chunks of stone raining down. Through the fractures, I saw the dragon swoop low, its massive wings whipping the air into a frenzy of ash.

There was no time to react. A deafening crash echoed through the crypt as the ceiling gave way. With a roar that shook the very ground, the dragon ripped the roof apart and descended into the crypt, landing in the main chamber near the altar.

The creature’s molten eyes locked onto us, glowing like fiery embers in the gloom. I could feel the heat radiating from its scales, waves of it pulsing through the air. Its tail lashed out, smashing into the walls with enough force to send cracks spiraling through the stone.

I looked around frantically, searching for any kind of weapon, anything to defend us. But we were outmatched—there was no fighting a creature like this.

Suddenly, a soldier appeared at the edge of the room—one of the few who had survived the initial onslaught. His armor was scorched, his face smeared with soot and blood, but he didn’t hesitate. “Fall back!” he bellowed. “Get out of the way!”

He charged forward, brandishing a blade, his eyes filled with reckless determination. The dragon roared, a terrifying, bone-rattling sound, and swiped at him with its massive claws. He barely dodged, rolling out of the way as the dragon’s tail lashed out, smashing into the crypt’s stone pillars.

The soldier’s bravery was short-lived. The dragon’s head snapped toward him, its jaws opening wide. Fire erupted from its mouth, engulfing him in a torrent of flames. His scream was brief, his body reduced to ash in an instant.

Aeliana gasped beside me. “Elara… we have to move.”

I grabbed her hand, my heart pounding in my ears. The dragon shifted its massive form, claws scraping against the stone floor as it prepared to strike again. There was nowhere to run, no place to hide. The altar, the tombs—it all seemed so small in the presence of the beast.

But as terrifying as the dragon was, it wasn’t just the beast that made my blood run cold.

There was a rider.

Perched atop the dragon was a figure shrouded in dark armor, commanding the creature with an air of calm detachment. His form was still, almost statuesque, and yet he radiated power.

The massive wings flapped once, twice, and then folded in, bringing the creature to rest on the stone floor. The crypt shuddered with the weight of it, dust and debris raining down from the ceiling.

The dragon’s molten eyes burned into us, but it was the man who stole my breath.

He leapt from the dragon with a fluid grace, landing lightly in the middle of the crypt. His armor gleamed darkly in the firelight, etched with swirling patterns that seemed to pulse with energy. The fire reflected off him, casting sharp shadows across his face—features that were unforgiving and unnerving. His eyes, glowing with an unnatural light, were fixed on me.

There was no mistaking who this was.

The Dragon King.

A legend no one knew anything about. Not even a name.

Just a terrifying title and taste for destruction.

Aeliana gasped beside me, her grip tightening. I could feel the tension in her body, but she wasn’t frozen like me—she was already summoning her power, preparing to fight.

The Dragon King’s gaze shifted to her, and something like amusement blinked in his glowing eyes, their ember-like intensity barely softened by the dim light. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and removed his helmet, revealing sharp, angular features that looked as though they had been carved from stone. His long black hair, unbound now, cascaded over his shoulders in dark waves, framing a face that carried the majestic, dangerous beauty of a predator. A shadow clung to his jawline, the faint stubble adding to the rough, untamed look that contrasted with the gleam of his armor. His lips curled into a faint, mocking smile—part threat, part challenge—making it impossible to tell whether he was entertained or simply toying with his prey.

“We meet at last,” he said.

Aeliana stepped forward, her voice steady but laced with ice. “You won’t take us.”

The Dragon King’s smile widened, his gaze sweeping over the room as if surveying his dominion. “Won’t I?” He gestured lazily, and the flames that had been crackling along the walls leapt to life, swirling around him, bending to his will.

The heat intensified, and I felt my knees weaken. But Aeliana wasn’t backing down. She raised her hands, and frost began to spread across the floor, crawling up the walls, reinforcing the ancient stone with her cryomancy. The temperature plummeted, the air itself freezing, but the Dragon King didn’t even flinch. He watched her with an almost bored expression, as if her efforts were nothing more than a child’s tantrum.

And then, with a simple flick of his wrist, the flames surged forward, crashing against the icy barrier Aeliana had created. The fire was too strong, too powerful. It melted the ice in seconds, steam hissing into the air as the protective barrier crumbled.

Aeliana staggered, her strength faltering, and I rushed to her side. “No,” I yelled, trying to pull her back. “You’re too weak—he’s too strong!”

With a wave of his hand, the Dragon King sent fire streaking toward the crypt, not just to burn but to desecrate. The flames, no longer wild, obeyed his command, honing in on the tombs that lined the walls—the sacred resting places of Icespire’s long-dead heroes. The power that encased them began to crack under the heat.

The first tomb, an ancient slab of frost and stone, groaned as it split. The once-pristine ice melted, water beading before cascading down in a steady stream. What had taken centuries to preserve was being undone in moments. The fire didn’t stop; it intensified, a roaring inferno melting the protective freeze faster than I could process.

Inside, the body of a warrior emerged—his once-proud form preserved by magic. For a moment, he remained whole, but then the fire consumed him. Flesh peeled back from bone as his body burned, turning to ash in seconds. The magic that had been stored in him—the power that had safeguarded the kingdom for generations—rose from the ashes like a ghostly shimmer before vanishing into the void.

I felt the loss as if a knife had sliced through me. The power of the crypt, the magic that had protected us, was unraveling.

Aeliana gasped beside me, eyes wide in horror as another tomb exploded, fire spilling across the floor like molten lava. The ancient queen entombed inside, once regal and proud, became a silhouette of bone and ash before crumbling into nothing. The magic she had carried dissipated in a flash of light, swallowed by the darkness creeping through the crypt.

One by one, the tombs shattered, the air growing thick with the acrid smell of smoke.

Aeliana’s glare could have frozen hell itself. “Monster! You desecrated this sacred place.” Every word was laced with venom, though her body trembled from the effort of maintaining her power.

The man’s smirk deepened, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Monster?” he echoed, his tone dripping with mockery. “No, Princess. I liberated it.”

Aeliana didn’t wait. With a cry of pure rage, she flung her hand forward, and ice burst from her fingertips, forming into a jagged spear that shot through the air with deadly intent. Her face was a mask of fierce determination, beautiful even in her exhaustion, as she hurled blade after blade of frost. The air around her shimmered with power, each step commanding, each strike calculated with the precision of a ruler defending her kingdom.

But he matched her, effortlessly deflecting each blow with bursts of fire. The heat was suffocating, the air around him shimmering with intensity. Yet Aeliana didn’t waver. She moved with the grace of a queen in battle, her frost forming jagged spears, lethal shards, but the man met her every move with ease, his flames burning brighter with each counter.

“Suits you, doesn’t it?” he drawled, his words slithering through the frozen air, sharp and poisonous as a dagger. He batted aside another of her attacks like it was nothing, his smirk cutting deeper than any blade. “A tomb. Cold. Silent. Forgotten. Exactly where you belong, Princess .” His eyes glinted with cruel delight, dark and searing, as though he enjoyed watching the words sink into her skin like splinters. “You and your precious Icespire will pay for what you’ve done—for the crimes etched into your cursed frost. I’m here to collect the debt.”

The man stepped forward, the rhythm of his boots echoing off the stone, slow and deliberate. Steam coiled around him like smoke from a pyre, and his smirk curved into something sharper, something hungry. “It’s over, little princess,” he purred, the words oozing with satisfaction, as though he’d been waiting for this moment—her moment of defeat—his entire life. “Your magic, your kingdom—everything you are—ends here.”

But Aeliana wasn’t done. Her knees trembled, her body screaming for rest, but she straightened, chin high, frost rising from her like a crown of defiance. The last flickers of her power crackled at her fingertips, splintering the air as the temperature plummeted.

“Not yet,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, but her words carried the bite of winter—unyielding, inevitable. Her icy gaze fixed on him, cold enough to burn.

With a sharp cry, she hurled one last blast of magic, her ice shooting forward in a final attempt to reclaim control. The air crackled as the frost erupted, forming jagged spikes aimed directly at him. For a heartbeat, it looked like she might break through. The freeze surged, pushing him back, forcing him to retreat—just for a moment.

He raised his hand, fire blooming to life at his command. Not just fire—an inferno, swirling and pulsing with a terrible intensity. The flames coiled around him like a living thing, growing, expanding until it filled the space.

The fireball that formed wasn’t just large—it was monstrous. It filled the crypt with its light, the temperature spiking so fast that the frost around us began to melt. Aeliana’s barrier cracked under the pressure, splintering into shards that fell uselessly to the ground.

My eyes widened in horror. She couldn’t stop it.

I could see the fire hurtling toward her, the sheer force of it unstoppable. There was no time to think, no time to weigh what would happen next. I reacted purely on instinct. Before I even knew what I was doing, I threw myself in front of her, my arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to shield her from the oncoming flames.

“No!” Aeliana’s scream tore through the crypt.

But it was too late.

The fireball should have obliterated me, but it didn’t. The heat swirled around me, hotter than anything I’d ever felt, yet somehow, I stood untouched.

Aeliana wasn’t spared.

The flames found her first, tearing into her like starving beasts let loose on flesh. Her clothes ignited in a heartbeat, fire consuming the fabric, crawling to her hair, her skin— her . Her body arched violently in my arms, every muscle seizing as her breath caught on a sound I’ll never forget—a sharp, gasping cry, torn from her throat like something being ripped apart.

Then the smell hit me. Ancestors , the smell—burning flesh, acrid and metallic, thick enough to choke. I clung to her, my hands trembling, useless, desperate to shield her from the fire that carved through her like a blade.

“No!” I sobbed, the word ragged and broken as I tried to pull her back, as if holding her tighter could stop the flames from eating her alive .

It didn’t stop. It didn’t even slow.

Her skin blistered, the heat boiling it open until it cracked, spilling raw red beneath the blackened edges. The flames devoured everything, layer by layer, until the muscle underneath gleamed wet and terrible in the firelight. I could hear it—the sizzle and pop of her skin splitting apart, the grotesque sound of her body breaking down. Her hair vanished in a blink, strands burning away to nothing, leaving behind scorched, cracked skin.

“Aeliana!” I screamed her name, her face swimming in and out of focus through my tears. Her eyes—wide and glassy, staring through me as if I weren’t even there.

Her hand—her slender, graceful hand that had held mine a thousand times—crumbled against my grip, her fingers turning to brittle fragments that slipped through my trembling limbs like sand.

And then—there was nothing left to burn. I was holding her, but she was already gone. What remained of her collapsed into ash, slipping from my arms and scattering into the dark like she’d never been there at all.

Empty.

The world shrank to silence. The flames still raged, but I couldn’t hear them. All I could feel was the ghost of her weight in my arms— a weight that was no longer there.

I could do nothing but watch. Watch as the last of her scattered into the air, lost in the fire and smoke. The pain tore through me, hollow and sharp, a wound that would never heal.

I had lost her.

Forever.

The Dragon King stood over us, watching in silence as the flames receded, leaving only the charred remains of Aeliana. His expression was unreadable, his eyes distant, as if he were detached from the horror he’d created. I could feel his gaze on me, but it offered nothing. No remorse. No regret. Just a hollow, chilling indifference that stoked the vehemence rising within me.

Grief clawed at my chest, but it wasn’t enough to drown the searing rage building in my gut. I couldn’t let him just stand there, towering over her ashes, as if he hadn’t just torn my world apart. I wouldn’t let him.

With a scream ripped from the deepest, rawest part of me, I hurled myself at him. My fists flew, grief and fury behind every strike, but he moved faster than I could comprehend. His hand shot up, catching my wrist mid-swing. His iron grip was strong enough to break me, yet somehow deliberate in its restraint.

We stood frozen, the ashes of Aeliana still falling from my fingers as my other hand shook, poised to strike again. His dark, penetrating gaze met mine, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t cruelty or amusement this time—it was something deeper. Shock. Recognition. For just a second, he seemed as human as I was, as though something about me had thrown him off balance.

My voice cracked, trembling as I glared up at him, my body shaking with a mix of rage and exhaustion. “You took her from me.”

His gaze tempered just for a moment—just long enough for me to wonder if he actually cared—but the callous mask returned. He released my wrist and leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear, chilling me in a way no ice could.

“She was never yours to keep. Icespire has a nasty habit of keeping souls for themselves.”

“Fight me!” I screamed, fists trembling as I slammed them into his chest. But it was like hitting a stone—unyielding. He barely moved, his gaze cruel.

“I don’t fight the weak,” he said, almost lazily, watching me as though entertained.

Tears burned in my eyes, spilling down my face as rage and grief twisted inside me. I needed him to feel it. To hurt. “You killed her!” I screamed, struggling against him, throwing everything I had into another punch. “End it! Kill me!”

He held firm, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not worth killing.”

The Dragon King loomed over me, his gaze cruel as he surveyed the carnage he had wrought. Aeliana’s ashes scattered around us, and yet he stood there, untouched by the horror. His eyes, glowing like molten embers, locked onto mine as I stood shaking.

“All the souls here… trapped,” he said. “But they’re free, now. You should be rejoicing.”

I threw a punch at him, desperate to feel anything other than this grief. But he didn’t flinch, his expression darkening with each feeble blow. He caught my wrist effortlessly, his grip tightening.

“Why did the flames spare you?” he murmured, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

The fire. I hadn’t even noticed. I was alive, unscathed, while Aeliana had burned. His hand ignited, flames dancing across his fingers. “Why didn’t they burn you?” he whispered, the question almost as if he didn’t understand it himself.

Before I could react, his flaming hand shot out, seizing my face in a grip that should have burned me alive. The heat roared against my skin, blistering-hot yet inexplicably painless, as though the fire itself had chosen not to hurt me. It licked at my flesh like it was testing, tasting—teasing me with what it could do but didn’t.

His eyes widened, the molten glow in them faltering for a split second as something close to horror cracked through his careful mask. It wasn’t the look of a man in control—it was the look of someone who had just stumbled upon a terrible truth, one he couldn’t take back.

The fire in his palm flickered, shifting to an unnatural blue—cold and sharp, like frost spreading over embers. He pressed his hand to my chest, and that’s when it struck.

Pain.

Not the kind that lives in flesh, but something deeper, something jagged that pierced my very soul. It bloomed through me like a thousand shards of glass exploding outward, tearing through bone and marrow until all that remained was raw, screaming agony. My knees buckled, my gasping breath shattering in the air as I clutched at my chest, desperate to stop the sensation, to hold myself together.

I looked up, tears blurring my vision, just in time to see him staring at his hand—his own hand—as the flames sputtered and dimmed. His expression wavered, the firelight revealing something startlingly human in his face: panic. Not triumph. Not cruelty. Pure, unfiltered panic, like he was as shaken as I was by what had just happened.

For a heartbeat, he looked at me not as his enemy but as something he didn’t know how to undo.

Then his face hardened. His fingers curled into a fist, snuffing out the flames with a sharp, final gesture. Whatever weakness had cracked through him was gone, hidden once more beneath the mask.

But I had seen it. And so had he.

Above us, the dragon let out a furious roar that echoed through the crumbling crypt, but it wasn’t anger that I saw in him now. He looked… shaken. The Dragon King, the terror of these lands, standing there as if something had gone horribly wrong.

He stepped back, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he didn’t trust himself anymore. The war drums outside began to beat, a low, ominous rhythm that reverberated through the ground, but he barely reacted to the sound. His face twisted into a grimace, his body tense as he struggled to hold himself together.

I tried to fight, to do anything, but my vision was clouded and pain wracked my body like a storm. Every movement sent shock waves of agony through me, my limbs refusing to cooperate.

He glanced back at me. “This isn’t over,” he gritted out.

The dragon roared again, shaking the crypt, and I screamed—desperation, grief, everything ripping out of me in one final cry. I tried to lunge, to fight, but my body betrayed me, collapsing under the pain that tore through my chest. My vision swam, darkness closing in at the edges.

He shook his head slowly, almost like he regretted what had happened. His eyes locked onto mine one last time. “I’ll see you again.”

Then, before I could even comprehend what he had said, he turned and disappeared into the smoke, the dragon’s wings beating furiously as it carried him away.