Chapter 4 #2
"Yes." My voice was shaking now. "The rejection drove him insane.
He corrupted himself with forbidden magic, trying to break all bonds, trying to prove the system was flawed.
He experimented on humans and created you—the dragon lords—trying to understand why Evara chose death over him.
When that failed—when he couldn't break the fundamental nature of bonds—he decided to destroy all Dragon Lords.
To ensure no one else got the happiness that was denied to him. "
"The First War," Garruk said, his stone-carved features cracking with horror. "The one that nearly destroyed both species. That was Valdris going mad."
"You stopped him," I said. "All of you—the Dragon Lords of that era—fought him together.
You couldn't kill him—he was too powerful, too ancient, too deeply connected to the fundamental magic that created dragons.
So you sealed him away instead. Bound him in a prison between planes where he couldn't affect the physical world. "
The Dragons were all staring at me now with expressions ranging from horror to rage to something that looked like grief.
"We thought the seals would hold forever," Davoren whispered. "We thought—we made them permanent. Reinforced them every century. How is he even capable of communication?"
"The seals have been weakening for the last five hundred years," I said.
"Slowly. Almost imperceptibly. But enough that he could reach out through the ethereal plane, could speak to those who knew how to listen.
He found Solmar—or Solmar found him, I'm not sure which came first. He taught Solmar the harvest ritual.
The obsidian blade construction. The binding words.
He's been orchestrating his own escape for two decades, using the bonding magic he hates to fuel his transformation. "
"He's going to break free on the autumn equinox," Sereis said. His pale eyes had gone distant, like he was looking at futures only he could see. "Using the stolen essence of one hundred twenty-seven potential mates to remake himself into something with a dragon's power and a monster's purpose."
"Yes." I met his eyes. "And he'll come for all of you. For your bonds. For the mates you successfully claimed when he couldn't keep his. He's spent an eternity festering in corruption and hatred, planning his revenge."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then Davoren exploded. Flames erupted from his hands, scorching the edge of the tactical table before he got them under control. "Valdris. We're not fighting some corrupted entity. We're fighting one of us. The First Dragon. The most powerful of our kind."
The room erupted into overlapping voices.
"We thought we killed him." Davoren's voice carried centuries of guilt. "After the First War, after we finally stopped his rampage, we thought the sealing was permanent. We reinforced it every century. Checked it. Made sure it held."
"Seals are never permanent." Sereis's voice was frost and shadow. "Not against something that powerful. We should have known. Should have been more vigilant."
"We were vigilant," Garruk rumbled. "We just underestimated him. Again."
Zephyron moved away from me, joining the pacing Dragons.
"This changes everything. We're not defending against an unknown threat.
We're fighting someone who knows everything about dragon magic.
Our weaknesses. Our bond vulnerabilities.
He was there when the bonds were first established.
He understands the system better than any of us. "
"He'll target the mates first." Davoren's eyes flashed toward Kara, then to the other bonded women. "That's what I'd do. Break our bonds, remove our anchors. Make us vulnerable."
The temperature in the room dropped as the mates absorbed that.
Kara spoke first, her voice cutting through the Dragons' planning with aristocratic authority.
"If he was the First Dragon, he knows more than your weaknesses.
He knows the bond vulnerabilities intimately.
He experienced rejection. He's spent thousands of years studying exactly what makes bonds break. "
She moved to the tactical table, her grace making the movement look casual despite the tension. "You're thinking like warriors. But this isn't a battlefield problem. This is psychological warfare. He's going to exploit every insecurity, every doubt, every crack in the foundations of your bonds."
Mira nodded, her gentle voice carrying unexpected steel.
"He'll know which of us struggled to accept the bond initially.
Which of us still carry trauma. Which relationships are newer and less stable.
" Her storm-gray eyes met mine briefly. Understanding passing between us—we were the newest, the most vulnerable.
"He'll use guilt," Wren added quietly. Her hand rested on her own throat, where bond marks bloomed across her skin. "Shame. Every terrible thing we've survived or done. He'll twist it. Make us believe we don't deserve the bonds. Don't deserve to be saved."
Lark clutched her rag doll tighter. "Make us think we're too broken. Too damaged. That we'll hurt the Dragons by staying."
The room went quiet as the Dragons absorbed their mates' perspective. These women understood rejection and corruption in ways the Dragons didn't. They'd all survived trauma. Had all fought to accept bonds despite believing they were unworthy.
Valdris would absolutely use that against them.
"So we fortify the bonds," Caelus said, though his voice lacked his usual confidence. "Make sure the connections are fully sealed."
"Not enough." Sereis's eyes had gone fully black. "The bond completion provides magical stability, but psychological vulnerability remains. He'll find the cracks. Exploit them. We need—" He stopped, shaking his head. "I don't know what we need. This is beyond tactical preparation."
The discussion devolved into increasingly desperate planning.
Defensive perimeters. Early warning systems. Coordinated response protocols.
But I could hear the futility underneath.
They were talking about fighting one of their own kind.
Someone who'd existed longer than their combined ages.
Who'd spent millennia planning revenge while they'd grown complacent in their assumed victory.
Davoren slammed his hand on the table, leaving scorch marks. "We need information. More than what Thalia provided—no offense." He glanced at me briefly. "We need to know exactly what the sealing ritual looked like. What components we used. Where the weak points are."
"We need to know if he's already partially free," Garruk added. "If he's been able to influence events beyond just teaching Solmar. If there are other cult cells we don't know about."
"We need a miracle," Caelus muttered.
"I have an idea."
The voice came from the shadows near the corner. I'd almost forgotten Morgrith was there—he'd been so still, so silent, just watching the discussion unfold with those unsettling eyes that saw too much.
Every head turned toward him.
He stepped forward, his silver-black hair moving like living smoke. His expression was calculating. Certain. And underneath that, something that looked like resignation.
"But you won't like it," he continued.
Zephyron's eyes narrowed. "What kind of idea?"
Morgrith's gaze swept across the room, lingering on each mate in turn. When his eyes met mine, I felt like he was looking through me. Past me. At futures I couldn't see.
"The kind that requires sacrifice," he said quietly. "The kind that might work because it's exactly what he won't expect."
"You're being cryptic." Davoren's voice carried warning. "Explain."
"I’m not being cryptic, just precise. Before I share my plan, I need to research something in my archives first." Morgrith moved toward the glass wall, his form already seeming to fade at the edges. "Confirm my theory. Make sure the cost is—" He paused, choosing words carefully. "—acceptable."
"What cost?" Garruk demanded.
Morgrith didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back to face them. "I'll contact you in two weeks with details. If I'm right, we have a chance. If I'm wrong, we need that time to prepare conventional defenses anyway."
Zephyron stepped forward. "Morgrith. What are you planning?"
"Two weeks,” he insisted. “And when—if—I come to you, bring reason to the decision, not judgement. It's the only path forward I can see that doesn't end with all of you dead and your bonds shattered."
"That's not an answer," Davoren growled.
"It's the only answer I can give until I confirm the theory." Morgrith's form was definitely fading now, shadows creeping up his legs. "Two weeks. Meet here again. I'll either have a solution or we proceed with conventional warfare."
"Morgrith—" Sereis started.
But the Shadow Master was already gone. Dissolved into darkness that dissipated like smoke, leaving only the faint smell of ozone and the feeling of being watched by someone who knew too much.
The remaining Dragons exchanged looks that carried centuries of shared history. They didn't like Morgrith's cryptic exit. Didn't trust whatever he was planning. But they also knew him well enough to recognize when he'd made a decision that couldn't be argued with.
"We fortify in the meantime," Davoren said finally. "Defensive perimeters. Communication networks. Early warning systems. If Morgrith's solution fails, we need to be ready for conventional assault."
"And we complete the bond consummations," Garruk added, his eyes finding me. "Immediately. Whatever psychological vulnerabilities exist, we need the magical stability of fully sealed bonds."
Sereis nodded. "Agreed. We reconvene in two weeks." His pale eyes swept across everyone. "Stay vigilant. Trust no one outside this room. And for the gods' sake, watch for signs of cult infiltration."