Chapter 5 Drayke
FIVE
DRAYKE
The mountain fortress has stood for three thousand years.
Carved into the heart of the range, its walls are granite and dragon-fire, its halls lit by torches that never burn out.
This is where my brothers and I have gathered since before humans built their first cities.
Where we’ve planned wars, mourned losses, and kept the balance that protects both our worlds.
Tonight, the council chamber feels smaller than usual. Suffocating.
Zyphon lounges in the shadows near the far wall, his presence more felt than seen. Violet light flickers in the darkness where his eyes should be—a side effect of the curse that’s slowly consuming him. He hasn’t spoken since I arrived, but his attention is a weight on my shoulders.
Rurik sits backward in his chair, sharpening a dagger that doesn’t need sharpening. His wild red hair catches the torchlight, and there’s a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He’s enjoying this. Bastard always did love watching me squirm.
Auren stands at the tactical maps spread across the central table, his posture rigid, his expression carved from ice. Of all my brothers, he’s the one I trust most to see clearly. And the one most likely to demand action, I’m not willing to take.
“Report.” His voice cuts through the silence.
I don’t want to do this. Every instinct screams at me to lie, to deflect, to protect her from my brothers’ scrutiny the same way I’ve protected her from rogues.
But the brotherhood doesn’t work that way. Secrets between us are weaknesses. And we can’t afford weaknesses. Not now.
“A human woman inherited property in our territory.” The words come out flat. Controlled. “The old Fire-Bringer’s cabin.”
Rurik’s dagger stills. “The granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
“And?” That grin is spreading. He knows. Somehow, the bastard already knows.
“She refuses to leave.”
Auren’s gaze sharpens. “You’ve had contact with her.”
“Rogues attacked. I intervened.”
“You intervened.” Auren’s tone makes the word sound like an accusation. “For a human. In territory you haven’t personally patrolled in decades.”
From the shadows, Zyphon’s voice emerges—low, rough, edged with something dark. “You could make her leave.”
The temperature in the room drops. My dragon surges forward, scales threatening to erupt along my spine.
“She’s under my protection.”
Silence. Heavy. Knowing.
Auren sets down the map he’s been studying. His movements are deliberate, precise, as he turns to face me fully. “She’s your mate.”
Not a question. A statement.
I don’t answer. Don’t need to. My silence says everything.
Rurik whoops, slamming his palm on the table. “Finally! Four hundred years of watching you brood, and you finally found her!” He’s on his feet now, circling the table with barely contained energy. “When’s the claiming ceremony? Do we need to prepare the sacred chamber? I’ll handle the feast—”
“There won’t be a claiming ceremony.”
The words land like stones in still water. Rurik’s excitement dies. Auren goes very still. Even Zyphon shifts in his shadows, those violet eyes burning brighter.
“Explain.” Auren’s voice has gone cold.
“I won’t claim her.”
The room explodes.
“You can’t be serious—” Rurik.
“This is unprecedented—” Auren.
“Fool.” Zyphon, quiet but cutting.
I slam my fist on the table. The stone cracks beneath my knuckles.
“My dragon is too powerful!” The roar tears from my chest, echoing off ancient walls.
“The claiming fire could overwhelm her. Kill her. I’ve spent centuries fighting for control, and you want me to risk losing it completely with her life in the balance? ”
Rurik’s jaw works. “There are ways to prepare. Rituals. The old texts speak of—”
“The old texts speak of Fire-Bringers who died screaming because their dragons couldn’t control the claiming fire.” I meet his gaze. Hold it. “I was there, Rurik. I watched it happen. You didn’t.”
He falls silent.
Auren steps forward. His expression hasn’t changed, but something in his posture has shifted. Less accusation. More calculation.
“Then we have a problem.” His voice is measured. Tactical. “Unclaimed mates are weaknesses. Liabilities. The rogues have already found her—you said so yourself. If they discover what she is to you, they’ll use her against you. Against all of us.”
“Better a liability than a corpse.”
“Is it?” Zyphon emerges from his shadows, violet light trailing behind him like smoke. His face is gaunt, but his gaze is sharp. Focused. “If they capture her—if they use her blood to awaken what sleeps beneath the old places—corpses will be the least of our concerns.”
“What are you talking about?”
Auren moves to a locked chest in the corner of the room. Opens it with a key that hangs around his neck. When he returns, he’s carrying scrolls so old, they look ready to crumble.
“She’s not just your mate.” He spreads the scrolls across the cracked table. “She’s the Fire-Bringer of the prophecy. The bloodline we thought ended centuries ago.”
The words hit like a physical blow.
“That’s not possible. The line was broken. We made sure—”
“The grandmother hid her.” Auren taps a section of the scroll. “Bound her power. Raised her away from our world. But blood remembers, Drayke. And now that she’s in our territory, now that she’s awakening—” He meets my gaze. “Every dragon who knows the old prophecies will come for her.”
Rurik has gone pale. “Fire-Bringer blood can amplify dragon power. If someone were to use it in the wrong ritual...”
“Or awaken things that should stay buried.” Zyphon’s voice is barely a whisper. “The Dominion Relic. It’s been dormant for millennia. But with Fire-Bringer blood...”
“Enough.” I cut them off. “I know what’s at stake.”
“Do you?” Auren steps closer. “Because from where I stand, you’re letting fear of your own dragon blind you to the larger threat.
Claim her or don’t—but understand that every day she remains unprotected by the full power of the claiming, she’s vulnerable.
To the rogues. To their master. To magical compulsion that could turn her against us entirely. ”
The dragon roars inside me. Furious. Possessive. Terrified.
Claim her. Protect her. Make her ours.
And if I lose control? If the claiming fire burns too hot?
“I need time.” The words scrape past my throat. “Time to strengthen her. Train her. Prepare her for what’s coming.”
“Time is the one thing we don’t have.” Auren rolls the scrolls closed. “But I’ll give you what I can. Rurik—increase patrols around the territory. Zyphon—reach out to your contacts. Find out what the rogues’ master is planning.”
Both nod. Neither looks happy about it.
“And you.” Auren turns back to me. “Go back to her. Protect her. But understand—if you can’t bring yourself to claim her, someone else might try to take that choice away from both of you.”
I’m out the door before he finishes speaking.