Chapter 1

The full moon of 1250 hung high in the sky over FeWard, pouring silvery light over the Dark Forest. Ancient trees rose like black sentinels, twisted branches intertwining overhead. Shadows danced on the uneven ground. The air was cold and damp.

Irmak, the eighteen-year-old princess heir, dug her spurs into the flanks of her black horse. The animal neighed, muscles tensed, galloping at full speed. Dry leaves flew behind them. The biting wind whipped her face.

"Faster!" she ordered, her voice low and urgent.

Her golden braid, long to her waist, was coming undone. Rebellious strands stuck to her sweaty skin. Her dark green velvet dress tore at the hem with every low branch. Dirt and leaves clung to the fine fabric.

She didn't look back. The castle of FeWard grew more distant. Its gray towers and royal banners vanished into the nocturnal mist.

Her heart pounded hard against her ribs. Each beat echoed like a war drum. Pressure. Duty. Forced marriage.

"Damned Vortigern..." she murmured through clenched teeth.

Her father, King Eldric, had been wasting away for months in the royal bed. Skin pale as parchment. Sunken eyes. The physicians whispered of slow poison, administered drop by drop. No one proved it. No one dared accuse.

Lord Vortigern smiled in the council. Cold hands. Serpent's gaze. He pressed day after day.

"The throne needs a strong heir, Your Majesty. The marriage will seal the alliance and protect FeWard."

Protect. Irmak knew the truth. Vortigern wanted power. He wanted the gold from the royal coffers. He wanted her body as a trophy of conquest.

She gripped the reins tighter. Leather creaked under her fingers. The horse leaped over exposed roots and hidden holes. Hooves pounded the damp earth.

The forest closed in around her. Thick trunks covered in moss. Dense foliage that blocked the moonlight in some stretches. Elongated shadows seemed like outstretched hands.

A distant howl cut through the air. Wolf? Or something worse? Irmak ignored it. Freedom was worth the risk.

Drops of sweat trickled down her back. The tight corset compressed her breasts. Short breaths. Still, she smiled. For the first time, she openly disobeyed the king.

The path narrowed. Branches scratched her arms. A thin cut appeared on her fair skin. Warm blood mingled with the night's chill.

"Just a little more," she whispered to herself.

Memories invaded her mind in quick flashes. The throne room lit by torches. Vortigern kneeling, kissing her hand with dry lips. The possessive touch lingering too long.

King Eldric, weak in bed, squeezing her hand.

"Daughter... the kingdom comes first. Vortigern is strong. He will keep FeWard united."

Irmak swallowed the lump in her throat. Tears burned, but didn't fall. Heir. Princess. Golden prisoner.

The horse snorted, vapor rising from its nostrils. White foam formed at the corners of its mouth. Still, it obeyed.

The clearing appeared suddenly. A circle of more spaced-out trees. Tall, soft grass under the silvery light. A small fountain bubbled in the center, crystal-clear water reflecting the moon.

Irmak pulled the reins hard.

"Whoa!"

The horse stopped abruptly, front hooves rising for an instant. She dismounted with an agile leap. Her legs trembled after the intense ride.

Boots sank into the damp earth. The scent of moss, wet soil, and something more invaded her nostrils. Subtle sulfur. Distant smoke. An ancient desire she couldn't name.

The horse neighed softly, ears perked. Wild eyes scanned the darkness.

Irmak stroked the animal's sweaty neck.

"Calm down, Shadow. We're safe here."

But she didn't feel safe. A supernatural unease crawled over her skin. The hairs on her nape stood up. Heart racing for another reason now.

She tied the reins to a low branch. The horse lowered its head to graze. Irmak walked to the center of the clearing.

Her steps were light, almost silent. Torn dress dragged leaves. Hands trembled slightly as she touched the rough bark of a centuries-old oak.

The trunk was wide, rugged, marked by centuries. Thick roots snaked across the ground like ancient veins.

Irmak rested her forehead against the cold wood. Eyes closed. Deep breath.

The wind whispered through the leaves. An owl's hoot echoed far away. Branches creaked like old bones.

"I just want to be free..." she whispered against the trunk. Her voice hoarse, laden with emotion. "Just one night. No crowns. No duties. No Vortigern."

The air seemed to change. Denser. Warmer. The sulfur scent intensified. Something stirred in the shadows beyond the clearing. A subtle rustle. Invisible eyes watched her.

Irmak raised her head slowly. Looked around. Nothing. Just trees and moonlight.

Still, the tingling persisted. It climbed up her legs, her belly, her breasts. An unease that mixed fear and something forbidden. Something hungry.

She brought her hand to her chest. Felt her racing heart under the velvet. Nipples hardened by the cold and that strange sensation.

"What is this?" she murmured to herself.

A branch snapped in the distance. Dry. Loud. Deliberate.

Irmak spun quickly. Hand on the small dagger strapped to her waist. Blue eyes scanned the darkness.

"Who's there?"

Silence. Just the wind.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. The horse raised its head, alert.

The princess returned to the oak. Leaned against it again, more slowly. Body relaxing against the bark.

Memories of the castle returned. The cold room. Servants dressing her like a doll. The council where Vortigern looked at her as if she were already his property.

"I won't be anyone's trophy," she said in a low, firm voice.

The air vibrated. Almost imperceptible. Like a distant roar contained.

Irmak didn't hear it. Or perhaps she did, deep in her soul.

She slid slowly down to sit on the wide root. Legs bent. Arms around her knees. Torn dress riding up her fair thighs.

The moonlight bathed her face. Delicate features. Full lips. Large eyes, now filled with determination and weariness.

"Father... forgive me. But I can't marry him. Not like this."

A slight tremor ran through the ground. Leaves trembled. The fountain bubbled stronger.

Irmak felt it. But attributed it to the wind.

She tilted her head back. Looked at the stars through the tree canopy. Silvery points twinkling.

Freedom. For one night, that was all she wanted.

She didn't know that golden eyes watched her from the shadows. Two ancient presences. Two draconic forces awakened by her silent call.

The fate of FeWard was changing there. In that clearing. Under that full moon.

Irmak closed her eyes for an instant. A small, weary smile curved her lips.

"Just one night..." she repeated in a whisper.

The air carried the words away. Into the depths of the Dark Forest.

And something responded.

Not with words. With a low, dual roar that hadn't yet reached her ears.

The princess of FeWard was free. For now.