Chapter 2
2
DAMIEN
A fter safely depositing Cat back inside her room at the Ryder residence, my journey back to Obsidian Reach Island was weighted with conflicting emotions. The stormy sea mirrored my inner turbulence as I pushed my dragon wings against the damp, salty air. I landed on the volcanic rock and shifted back to my human form at the entrance of the cavernous home I shared with my uncle. The familiar scent of sulfur and the volcano’s eerie silence welcomed me—a abrupt contrast to my chaotic human emotions.
The interior had been shaped by centuries of dormant volcanic activity, which made it the perfect place to imprison a son you never wanted to see – or so my father felt. The natural luminescence of lava-frozen walls provided a perpetual, ghostly reminder of the fiery forces contained within. As I entered the living room, the sharp, mineral scent of sulfur was more pronounced, mingling with a faint, smoky aroma that seemed to seep from the very walls.
“Uncle,” I greeted, my voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber. I approached where Uncle Bai sat, looking weary but unharmed on one of the stone loungers that dotted the room. The furniture, carved directly from the volcanic rock, bore the cool, smooth texture of polished stone, providing a simple but oddly comforting place to rest. When he didn’t answer, I edged closer and studied his calm demeanor in our shadow-filled living room. “Are you okay?”
Uncle Bai nodded, finally managing a tired smile. “I’m fine; I just got back. They didn’t suspect a thing,” he assured me, his voice steady but carrying the weight of our recent endeavors – most recently, his foray as a secret agent to infiltrate his fellow nobles in an underground fighting ring. He shifted slightly and the stone beneath him released a faint grinding sound. “But you were right about the paintings. It’s how the underground fights are viewed by the elite, many of whom are directly involved.” My uncle shook his head, flummoxed. “This could spell disaster if I brought it to the emperor now. It might be best if we just cut off the vampires instead of getting the ministers involved.”
I nodded and paced, the soles of my boots scraping against the gritty stone floor. “Thorne might not agree.” The mention of my brother reminded me of the broader implications of our discoveries. “I think he wants to get rid of the corrupt ministers serving the emperor.”
Uncle Bai sighed, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. “This is bigger than any of us might have imagined,” he mused, looking up at the ceiling where stalactites hung like ancient watchers. “Collusion between the emperor’s ministers and the vampires could mean possible rebellion. What is this money funding, and to whom is it funneling?”
I bit my lower lip, considering his words. “That’s what Thorne wants to know,” I muttered.
“It’s best to cut off their money source,” Uncle Bai suggested, his tone becoming more decisive. “That way we can smoke out the true culprit, but not involve all the ministers and royal family members in the process. There are too many of them, and many may not even be fully aware of what they’re involved in.”
“You really think they don’t know?” I quirked a brow, skeptical of the supposed innocence of the highest echelons of our society.
“I think many of them are simply there to gamble and foolish as they are, they are oblivious to what’s happening behind the scenes,” Uncle Bai carefully explained. His expression was thoughtful, his eyes reflecting the soft, eerie glow of the lava walls.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Again…Thorne might not see it that way. But you’re right. The root of the problem is the vampires, along with whomever is behind them orchestrating this. We need to cut off their money source, and fast.”
Uncle Bai nodded in agreement. “The next fight is next Saturday night. We have one week to figure it out.”
“Do you know if anyone lives in that estate where the noblemen meet to watch the fights?” The beginning of a plan was already stirring.
“I believe it’s empty, other than a few vampires that walk the property and maintain the grounds,” he replied, his voice echoing slightly in the cool air of the chamber.
“Good. Then this might work.” I settled into the lounger opposite him. “What better way to cut off their money source than to burn it all to the ground?”
Uncle Bai’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You mean the estate?”
“The estate and the underground fighting ring,” I clarified, my eyes alight with the spark of rebellion. “Let’s burn it all.”
Uncle Bai rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the motion slow and deliberate. “It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to believe that the money is being stored at the estate. Our winnings were handed out then and there, so they must have a lot of coin on hand.”
“Excellent!” I rubbed my hands together with a determined gleam in my eyes. “One little fire will get rid of it all.”
“But how do we smoke out the ringleader?” my uncle asked, his gaze intense as he considered the full scope of our plan.
I leaned forward, the cool stone beneath me grounding my thoughts. “We set the trap and watch. Once the fire starts, they’ll come running. And we’ll be waiting.”
Uncle Bai nodded slowly, the creases on his face deepening as he settled back against the contours of the rough-hewn stone chair, which, despite its austere appearance, had been smoothed over centuries of use. The ambient glow from the lava-frozen walls cast a dim, orange light across his features, softening the usual sternness.
“Very well.” His voice carried a hint of resignation. He paused, eyeing me with a mix of concern and curiosity. “Oh, how did it go with Lady Arya? Is she okay?”
The room seemed to contract slightly at the mention of Cat. The air grew dense—or perhaps it was just the weight of my guilt pressing down. I looked away and focused on the faint patterns of heat that danced across the walls, the slight hiss and pop of residual geothermal activity a soft soundtrack to my turmoil. My uncle was not aware that Cat was from another realm and was only pretending to be Lady Arya, while the real Lady Arya was currently missing. During our earlier… conversation , I hadn’t gotten around to asking Cat if she’d learned anything about the lady’s whereabouts.
“She’s well.” My murmured voice barely stirred the sulfurous air. I hesitated, my fingers tracing the cool, smooth surface of the volcanic stone beside me. “She…” The words faltered on my lips. I was accustomed to sharing everything with my uncle, but this deception—this tangled web I had found myself in with Cat—was a secret I held close. Too close. I was afraid if I told him the truth, he might agree with Cat and make me send her back to her world. And I refused to let that happen.
Uncle Bai's expression shifted from concern to suspicion, his sharp eyes narrowing. “What is going on, Damien?” he prodded, his tone gentle yet insistent. “You don’t seem well.”
I begrudgingly met his gaze, the flickering shadows that played across his face lending a spectral quality. There was no hiding from my uncle. The man had raised me since birth. He knew everything about me. Even if I didn’t tell him everything about Cat, I had to tell him something .“She doesn’t like me,” I admitted quietly, the admission tasting bitter. “She doesn’t want to be with me.”
His reaction was immediate. Uncle Bai leaned forward, the stone of his chair scraping against the volcanic floor. His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in thought. “Did you tell her about the twin flame mark?”
I grimaced, feeling the inadequacy of my efforts. “Not completely.” I studiously avoided his gaze, focusing instead on a small crack in the floor where a tiny fern had managed to sprout—a stubborn bit of life in a place that defied it.
“You need to, Damien,” he urged firmly. “She must understand what it means.”
But his words, though logical, missed the mark of my deeper fear. It wasn’t about whether she understood the significance of our connection. She wanted to leave and return to her world—a world away from the complications and dangers of Elaria, away from me .
In her eyes, I was likely the villain of her story, the captor who had stolen her freedom. The realization stung, more painful than any physical wound.
The cool pre-dawn air whispered through the island as I departed from the somber shadows of Obsidian Reach, the scent of moist earth and sea salt mingling in the breeze. Uncle Bai’s wings cut silently through the misty morning sky, carrying us away from the confinements of the volcano. The transition from the stark, sulfur-laden caverns to the open, vibrant world of the mainland was always jarring, a sensory overload of sights and sounds for which I was never quite prepared.
It was the third Sunday of the month and the only day I was freely allowed on the mainland, per my father’s – the emperor – exacting instructions. Just as we approached the mainland, the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, casting a golden glow that shimmered on the water’s surface. We landed discreetly near the shore where a small boat was hidden among the reeds, its wooden hull bobbing gently in the calm sea. The salty tang of the ocean was a welcome change from the acrid sulfur to which I’d become accustomed, and the gentle waves lapping against the boat were soothing, a natural melody far removed from the volcano’s eerie silence.
Once on the mainland, I borrowed a horse from Uncle Bai’s stables, a sturdy chestnut mare that seemed eager to stretch her legs. The rhythmic clopping of her hooves against the cobblestone path provided a steady backdrop as we traversed the Northern District. The air was fresh, filled with the scents of pine and the occasional waft of smoke from morning fires being stoked.
Arriving at the Ryder residence was like stepping into another world—a distinct contrast to the subdued, utilitarian nature of my island home. The residence was designed in the traditional Elarian open courtyard style, with pavilions and halls interconnected by open-air walkways that framed beautifully manicured gardens. The sound of water trickling from ornate stone fountains filled the air, and the sweet fragrance of jasmine and chrysanthemums drifted from the gardens, infusing the atmosphere with a sense of tranquility and grace.
When I dismounted my horse at the entrance, a servant hurried over to take the reins, offering a respectful bow. Murmuring voices and the rustle of silk from the servants added to the bustling, yet orderly chaos of a household preparing for the day.
“Your Highness,” a servant greeted, bowing deeply as I approached the main hall. “If you wait here a moment, I’ll get our lady for you.”
“Thank you,” I responded with an appreciative nod. The servant bowed again and disappeared down one of the many winding paths.
As I waited, I heard distant laughter and chattering women, the clinking of gardening tools, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was a living, breathing place, so different from my secluded abode.
My realization of the misunderstanding dawned just as the sound of approaching laughter grew louder. I cursed under my breath, realizing the servant had misunderstood my visit's purpose. “By the immortals,” I muttered, frustration threading through my whispered words.
Gianna, accompanied by a trio of young ladies, approached. Her demeanor was shy, yet expectant. Her blush deepened as she neared, and the fluttering of her hands betrayed her nervous excitement. “Your Highness,” she greeted with a bow, her voice soft. “I… I didn’t expect you. I thought—”
“You thought correctly,” I interrupted sharply, the situation spiraling in a direction I hadn’t intended. “I’m not here to see you .”
Her expression crumbled, confusion and hurt flashing across her features. “Pardon?”
I turned to the servant who initially greeted me, my gaze sharp and perhaps harsher than strictly warranted. “You left before I could clarify who I wished to see. I’m here to see Lady Arya . Maybe you shouldn’t make assumptions so quickly and embarrass your master this way.”
The servant blanched, her face draining of color as she immediately knelt and bowed her head low to the ground. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness! Apologies, my lady!” she stammered, her apology echoing slightly against the stone pathways, a stark reminder of the rigid protocols that governed our interactions.
The courtyard of the Ryder residence buzzed with the gentle rustle of silk and the courtiers’ hushed tones as I confronted Gianna, no doubt cataloging each word to gossip about later. The air was filled with the subtle fragrance of the manicured gardens around us, blending jasmine with the verdantly green scent of freshly cut grass to provide a soothing backdrop to the tension that crackled between us.
“By the immortals, this is embarrassing,” one of the young ladies whispered to the others behind Gianna. The others barely smothered their giggles.
As the servant scurried away to correct her mistake, I turned back to Gianna, who still looked bewildered and more than a little pained. “I… I didn’t know you were close with Arya,” Gianna lied, her voice barely above a whisper as her companions behind her murmured among themselves. She knew very well how close we were, as I’d told her the other day, but she didn’t want to lose face in front of her friends.
I cleared my throat, the sound sharp in the quiet morning. “Yes. We are,” I stated, my voice calm but firm.
“Since when?” she pressed, her bottom lip quivering faintly, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears she fought to hold back. She was putting me on the spot, counting on the fact that I wouldn’t do the same to her. “It wasn’t like this last month. You hated her.”
Her words hung heavily in the air, laden with truth and the history of my feelings. And to Gianna, who only saw me once a month, I was merely an exiled prince, seemingly stripped of my dragon powers and reduced to a human existence. She was unaware of my true capabilities, or the depth of my connection with Cat that had altered everything. Initially, I had viewed Gianna as a potential ally, a means to an end for my escape from Elaria. But everything shifted irrevocably when I found my twin flame.
“Does it matter?” I tilted my head, my tone dismissive. “I don’t need to explain my relationships to you.”
Her friends behind her gasped in shock at my harsh response. Gianna didn’t think I could be mean to her, but I could. I could be ruthless. She’d just never seen this side of me. At least not directed toward her.
Her eyes widened and hurt flashed across her face before she managed to mask it with a courtly bow. “No, I—I didn’t mean to offend, Your Highness,” she stuttered, her words tinged in confusion and embarrassment.
Cat chose that moment to appear. She strode down the walkway with a demeanor that could slice through steel. Maeve trailed slightly behind her, her expression one of worried anticipation. Cat’s eyes were fixed on me, cold and hard, as if chiseling each word she prepared to hurl at me.
“What do you want?” Cat demanded, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the courtyard like a sharp blade.
Gianna and her companions gasped, their hands flying to their mouths in shock at Cat’s blatant disrespect.
I couldn’t suppress the smirk that crept across my face as I assessed her defiant stance. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t run away,” I said coolly. “I want you where I can see you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Gianna’s bewildered expression, but my focus remained locked on Cat. Provoking her was perhaps not the wisest approach, but it was irresistibly tempting.
Her jaw clenched tightly, and her fists balled at her sides. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere,” she growled. “You don’t need to monitor me.”
“But I love watching you,” I replied with a grin that only deepened her scowl. “It’s my free day. Walk with me.”
“No,” she snapped, turning to Maeve, who looked equally stunned. “Let’s go back.”
“Arya,” I called out authoritatively, not ready to relent. “I wasn’t giving you an option.”
She halted mid-step, then turned to face me with a glare that could melt the stone beneath our feet. Maeve held her hand, her expression etched with concern.
Finding her voice again, Gianna stepped between us, her demeanor meek but her intention clear. “Your Highness,” she interjected softly. “I think my sister is unwell—”
“She’s fine,” I interrupted sharply, turning my gaze back to Cat. “Aren’t you, Lady Arya?”
Gianna’s honey gold eyes flitted between us, her plea silent but desperate, not just for her sister's well-being but for her own heart, which was entangled in this messy triangle. She didn’t want her sister involved with me, the man she loved, a love that was, sadly, unreciprocated. The complexities of our intertwined fates were playing out in the heart of the Ryder residence, under the watchful eyes of its denizens and the unyielding gaze of tradition and duty that governed our lives.
Cat’s expression hardened further, her eyes momentarily flickering toward Gianna’s anxious face before settling back on me with steely resolve. “I am quite well, thank you, sister,” she said crisply, her voice carrying a chilly undertone that contradicted the warm breeze drifting through the courtyard. Her posture was rigid, a clear sign she was on edge, ready to defend her stance.
Gianna, caught in the emotional crossfire, withdrew and lowered her gaze as she stepped back. It was clear she felt out of place, her earlier excitement replaced by discomfort and uncertainty. She bit her lip, an obvious sign of her internal struggle as she tried to reconcile her feelings for me with the unfolding scenario.
I turned my attention fully back to Cat. “Arya, I came here to talk. We need to discuss things,” I said, attempting to moderate my tone. I needed her to listen so she could understand the gravity of our connection, the twin flame mark that bound us in ways she was not yet willing to accept. “It’s important.”
Cat’s eyes narrowed, skepticism written across her face. “Talk?” she echoed dryly, her arms still crossed defensively. “Like last time?”
“I know I’ve made mistakes,” I admitted, the words slightly bitter as I acknowledged my missteps. “But I’m here to make things right. Can we at least have a conversation without an audience?” I glanced pointedly at the still-hovering Gianna and her friends, as well as the handful of curious onlookers who had gathered at a discreet distance, drawn by the spectacle.
Maeve, picking up on the hint, motioned to the others. “Perhaps we should give His Highness a moment,” she suggested softly, giving Cat a reassuring look.
Reluctantly, Cat nodded, signaling to Maeve and the others to give us space. Hesitant to move away, Gianna seemed locked in place until I gave her a stern look and she hurried after the group.
When they left, the ambient sounds of the residence—distant chatter, leaves rustling in the gentle wind, and the occasional bird call—filled the silence that momentarily fell between us.
Once we were relatively alone with only the prying eyes of nature and distant servants as our company, I took a deep breath. “Cat, I know you’re angry. I would be, too. But there are things about this world, about us , that you need to understand.” I paused, searching for the right words. “This mark,” I continued, rolling up my sleeve and holding up my arm to show the intricate twin flame design, “is not just a symbol. It’s a destiny. And it’s ours, whether we chose it or not.”
Cat looked at the mark, her expression softening fractionally with curiosity but still guarded. “What if I don’t want a destiny decided by some... some mark?” she challenged, her voice a mix of defiance and weariness.
“That’s what I’m here to talk about. To explain why it matters.” I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “There are forces at play here, Cat, that are bigger than us. Forces that could use our separation to their advantage. I’m not asking you to accept everything at once, but I am asking you to listen. Really listen.”
The gentle breeze shifted, carrying with it the scent of the flowering vines that climbed the walls of the Ryder residence, adding a sweet note to the heavy air of confrontation. Cat watched me for a long moment, her features bathed in the soft light of the morning sun, tossing shadows that played across her face, highlighting the complexity of her emotions.
Finally, she exhaled slowly, a sign of her relenting, at least to the conversation. “Fine. We’ll talk,” she agreed, though her stance remained cautious, her eyes still wary. “I’m listening, Damien. But it better be good.”
As we settled onto a secluded bench under the shade of a blossoming tree, the quiet around us felt like a reprieve, a momentary peace as I prepared to delve into explanations that would unearth the deep-rooted secrets of our existence, and perhaps, shape the course of our intertwined futures. The air carried the earthy scent of moist soil and fresh foliage, a soothing backdrop to the heavy conversation about to unfold.
“You remember how I told you my biggest secret was that I had my dragon bones when I wasn’t supposed to, right? That I could fully shift into a dragon,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper to maintain the privacy of our discussion.
She nodded slightly, her eyes reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. “Yes. What about it?”
I drew a deep breath, feeling the subtle chill of the stone beneath me seeping through my clothing. “On my twentieth birthday, before I could fully shift for the first time, my bones were extracted. That day, my father didn’t just take my bones; he also took my Heart Scale,” I confessed, my hand instinctively touching my chest over my heart.
“What’s a Heart Scale?” Cat asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“It’s like a cage that protects the heart. Extremely valuable and nearly impenetrable. Without it, dragons are incredibly vulnerable. Essentially, without it, it’s the only way to kill a dragon—through their heart.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “So… you’re killable?”
I nodded solemnly. “The fact that I’ve survived seventy-five years is nothing short of a miracle.”
“And your father—the emperor—did this to you?” she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of horror.
“Yes,” I confirmed, the heaviness of the truth settling between us.
“Okay…” she murmured, trying to process the information. “But what does this have to do with the mark?”
“The day my bones and Heart Scale were taken was the day the mark appeared on my arm,” I explained, holding out my arm to show her the intricate twin flame design. “In front of not just my uncle, but also my father and his seer. The seer was the one who recognized the mark. He told my father that the twin flame mark hadn’t been seen in centuries and that, according to prophecy, the next one to have it and find their twin flame would be the one true king.”
Cat stood abruptly, putting distance between us as if the space could shield her from the weight of my revelations. “What? You’re doing all of this because you want to be king?”
I rose too, vigorously shaking my head, my heart racing with the urgency to make her understand. “No, that’s not what I want. But because of this mark, I was stripped of my powers and essence as a dragon. Any chance at freedom I once had vanished in that instant. If it wasn’t for my uncle bargaining with my father, I’d have no hope left.”
Her expression turned from shock to a frown, skepticism shadowing her features. “So where do I come into all of this?”
“Marry me,” I blurted. The words hung between us like a sudden clap of thunder. “Go through the mating ceremony with me. Free me from this curse.”
She choked on her breath and coughed. “Excuse me? You want me to do what ?”
“You heard me,” I persisted, despite the absurdity of how it sounded even to my own ears.
She laughed, a short, disbelieving sound that bounced off the ancient stones of the courtyard. “You’re insane! No way. Obviously, the emperor doesn’t want you to succeed. He’s done everything possible to stop you. Why would I put my life on the line to help you?”
“Because if you do,” I leaned closer and lowered my voice to a fervent whisper, “I’ll help you do the one thing you want most.”
She eyed me warily, her body tense. “And what’s that?”
“Go home.” My gaze locked with hers, hoping she could see the sincerity in my eyes and felt the desperation in my voice. Around us, the garden seemed to hold its breath as it waited for her response, as if the very leaves and blossoms leaned in, anticipating her answer.
“Home?” she repeated as if the word was foreign.
“Yes, Cat. Home . To your world.”