47. Clarissa
CLARISSA
R eality has sharp edges that cut when you’ve been living in a dream of scales and flame.
The world feels distant, as if I’m drifting between realms. The last thing I remember is chaos—the searing heat, the deafening roars, the sensation of being lifted into the sky.
Now, I return slowly to myself, bringing with it the dull ache of my body and the weight of memories pressing down.
I’m aware of softness beneath me, the familiar scent of cedarwood, and something uniquely him. The realization hits me like a wave—I’m home. Drachenstein Manor. Safe.
A gentle pressure encircles my hand, grounding me. The fog in my mind begins to clear, like mist burning off in the morning sun. I summon what little strength I have and blink, eyes fluttering open against the muted glow of lamplight.
At first, everything is a blur—the flickering shadows dancing across high ceilings, the familiar drape of curtains pulled low. And then, him.
Kaisner.
He sits beside the bed, head bowed, one hand wrapped around mine as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. His other hand rests on his knee, tapping rhythmically, a barely-contained storm beneath his stillness.
Something about him looks different.
His black dress shirt is neatly pressed, collar open to reveal the line of his throat. The sleeves are fitted, cuffed neatly at his wrists, revealing the powerful lines of his forearms, a hint of the tattoos that cover his arms.
His charcoal trousers are tailored to perfection, the fabric smooth and untouched by the chaos of battle—as if he changed just to sit by my side, as if this moment mattered more than anything that came before.
His hair is combed back, every strand controlled. His jaw is dusted with a deliberate, neatly trimmed stubble that only sharpens the contrast of his features. A shallow cut curls along his cheekbone, half-healed, but even that doesn’t take away from his beauty.
The gold in his eyes catches the lamplight when he lifts his gaze, and the sheer reverence in his demeanor almost knocks the breath from me.
He looks at me then—really looks —and his expression shifts.
His shoulders drop. His hand tightens around mine.
And for a heartbeat, he seems as though he might shatter.
Not from fear, but from the relief of seeing me awake.
“Clarissa,” he breathes, his voice thick, wrecked. My name on his lips is a prayer, one he’s whispered a thousand times.
Then, I see it. This isn’t the man who carried me out of fire and ruin. This is the man who would’ve burned the world if he hadn’t found me alive. And right now, he’s trying to believe I’m real.
“Hey,” I whisper, voice ragged.
He leans over me instantly, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. The intensity in his stare is overwhelming, a storm barely held in check.
“You’re awake,” he breathes, as if it’s a miracle.
I attempt a weak smile. “Thanks to you.” I shift under the sheets, muscles protesting. “What happened? After we flew away?”
Kaisner’s jaw tightens, his gaze darkening. “We brought you home. The compound… It’s gone. Mostly destroyed in the fire.”
His words drop heavy in my chest. A small, pained gasp leaves my lips. “Nik?”
“Alive. Pissed. Bloodied.” Kaisner leans back just enough to read my reaction. “He tore through the building like a wildfire. The plan was distraction. He chose annihilation.”
“I felt it,” I murmur, my voice trembling. “The ground shook like the world was ending.”
“It nearly was,” Kaisner replies, his jaw tight. “That wasn’t a battle tactic—it was a dragon untethered. Your brother didn’t just attack the compound—he obliterated it. Every building, every escape route, every living thing within a mile radius.”
The words hit me like ice water. Suddenly, fragments click into place with sickening clarity—Samara’s careful positioning between Nik and others at gatherings, the way she’d touch his arm when his eyes began to glow, those faint bruises I’d glimpsed on her wrists that she’d explained away as mere accidents.
“The Draken Curse,” I breathe, the pieces finally forming a picture I’ve been too blind to see. “It’s not just a legend.”
Kaisner’s expression darkens. “It’s real. And it’s getting worse. The more powerful the dragon, the stronger its hold.” His fingers tighten around mine. “Samara’s been fighting to keep him anchored, but she can’t do it forever.”
My stomach drops as I remember Nik’s sudden rages, the way he’d disappear for hours after arguments. And Samara—brave, fierce Samara—standing guard over a secret that could destroy everything she loves.
“She’s been protecting us all,” I whisper, horror and admiration warring in my chest. “Protecting him from what he might become.”
“The Last Draken Shifter,” Kaisner says grimly. “Heir to all that power, and all that madness. What we witnessed today... that was just a taste of what’s brewing inside him.”
I close my eyes, finally understanding the true weight of the crown my brother wears—and the woman who refuses to let him bear it alone.
A tense silence fills the room, and I ask the question that’s been clawing at my chest.
“And us?” My voice is fragile, raw. “Did you tell him...?”
He doesn’t flinch. “He knows.”
“And?”
“He’s furious.” Kaisner’s thumb brushes over mine. “But also shaken. What we did to save you cracked something open. He may not like me, but… he’s listening now.”
I study his face, tracing the tension in his jaw, the weariness in his eyes. “Maybe it’s not about him liking you,” I murmur. “Maybe it’s enough that he sees what you are to me.”
A shadow crosses his features, and he shakes his head. “I almost lost you.” His voice cracks, the anguish unmistakable. “I should have been there sooner.”
I squeeze his hand, summoning every ounce of strength I have. “But you were there. You saved me.”
He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, lingering as if to reassure himself that I’m real. The warmth of his lips sends a shiver down my spine.
We sit in silence for a moment, countless unspoken words hanging between us. His eyes betray the turmoil raging within him, and I reach up, cupping his cheek with a trembling hand.
“Kai,” I murmur, drawing his gaze back to mine. “I’m here. We’re together. That’s all that matters.”
He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch, his breath warm against my palm. “I can’t imagine a world without you,” he whispers. “The thought of losing you... terrifies me.”
My vision blurs with forthcoming tears. “You won’t lose me,” I vow. “I’m yours, Kai. Always.”
He looks at me with a flash of determination, then shifts abruptly, like he’s wrestling with an intention. Concern tightens my brow.
“There’s something I need to do,” he says, his voice steady but intense. He meets my gaze with a quiet resolve. “Can you stand?” His tone is unsure, but before I can respond, he mutters, “Hell—you don’t have to.”
Then he rises.
In one smooth motion, Kaisner drops to one knee next to the bed.
The sight of him—this powerful, scarred man, who tore the sky open to bring me home—kneeling beside me steals my breath away.
He slips off one of his rings—a heavy band of blackened gold etched with dragon wings and flames. He doesn’t speak grand words; his eyes tell me everything. Raw. Wild. Deep.
And then he speaks, not as a question, but as a vow.
“I should’ve waited. For moonlight. For peace. For a moment not soaked in blood and smoke,” his voice breaks as he continues, “But I can’t wait another second, Clarissa. Not after what we’ve been through. Not after almost losing you.”
My heart stutters. My fingers tremble.
He lifts the ring slightly, like it’s not just metal—but a sacred promise. “This isn’t the one you’ll keep. You’ll choose yours. But I need you to know what I want. What I’ve always wanted.”
His voice softens, trembling with fire and urgency. “You.” He leans forward, gaze searing. “Marry me.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“I want to wake up with you every morning. Fight for you. Burn for you. Live and die for you. Be yours in name, in blood, in bond.”
His hand remains steady, though the significance of the moment seems almost too much to bear.
“I cannot offer you peace,” he says softly. “I’m offering you a kingdom made of fire and devotion. I’m offering you… me .”
Tears prick my eyes. My chest tightens with emotion I can barely contain. Slowly, painfully, I sit up and reach for him, my fingers weaving into his hair as I draw him near, until our brows touch.
Kneeling before me is not just the man I love—it’s the echo of every cautionary tale, every whispered warning. The dangerous Willem rises in my memory, Juliette’s voice haunting: “A Dragon King... a man whose touch brought only ash and ruin.”
I know what he might become. I’ve seen his salvation and damnation written in starfire and shadow.
And I choose him anyway.
“Kaisner Drachenstein,” I sigh, my voice shaking. “There’s no other future I want. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
His eyes close, jaw tightening as my words cut through him. He slips the ring onto my finger—his ring—and pulls me gently into his arms.
He kisses me then. And gods, it hurts—in the best way. It’s not soft. It’s not gentle. It’s teeth and tongue and grief and gratitude all twisted together. I clutch at his shoulders, fingers trembling as I pull him closer.
Bound by fire, united in love, we have chosen our destiny.