The bond trials

CHAPTER SEVEN – “The Bond Trials”

The Council chamber smelled of old stone and burning incense when Rowan was summoned again. She stepped inside to find the elders seated in a semicircle, their gold-and-obsidian robes rustling like wings.

Headmistress Vale’s voice was crisp. “The Dragonheart must choose wisely. The Bond Trials begin at dawn.”

Rowan crossed her arms. “You’re seriously doing this? Parading a line of dragons at me like I’m… shopping for one?”

An elder’s gaze was cold. “You call it parading. We call it ensuring the survival of our kind.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. “And if I refuse?”

Vale’s lips thinned. “You’ve been given one moon cycle. Time runs short. This trial is for your benefit.”

“For my benefit,” Rowan repeated, bitter. “Right.”

The next morning, she stood in the Trial chamber, a wide marble hall lit by floating torches. The air shimmered with enchantment, casting ripples of light over the dragon banners that hung from the walls.

Five dragon heirs waited in a line. All tall. All smug. All watching her like she was a prize to be won.

Vale announced, “You will spend time with each candidate. Observe their strength. Their control. Their… compatibility.”

Rowan muttered under her breath, “And if I don’t like any of them?”

Vale didn’t answer.

⸻

The first heir stepped forward—a silver-haired dragon with eyes like ice. He smiled in a way that felt more like showing teeth than kindness.

“I hear you command the flame of the First Bloodline,” he said smoothly. “A rare gift. Together, we could be unstoppable.”

“I’m not looking to be unstoppable,” Rowan said. “Just… myself.”

He chuckled. “You’d change your mind.” His gaze swept over her like he was already claiming her. She forced herself not to roll her eyes.

⸻

The second heir was worse. Tall, broad-shouldered, his golden scales glinting faintly under his skin. He didn’t bother with small talk.

“You should know,” he said, stepping close, “if you bond with me, I will expect obedience. A bond without order is chaos.”

Rowan stepped back. “Then I guess you should look for someone else. I’m not here to follow orders.”

His smirk didn’t fade. “You’ll learn.”

⸻

The third heir… tried to flirt. Badly. He tossed her a wink, spun a dagger in his hand, and leaned in.

“Rowan, was it? We’d make a good story. Dangerous, tragic, unforgettable.”

She arched a brow. “I’m not looking to be someone’s tragic ending.”

He grinned wider. “Not ending. Just a wild ride.”

Her glare sent him back a step.

⸻

By the fourth heir, Rowan’s patience was thin. This one had deep red hair and a temper to match. When they were asked to perform a fire-control test, his flames roared higher than the safe line—nearly singeing her hair.

“Watch it!” Rowan snapped, swatting at the smoke.

He smirked. “If you can’t stand the heat—”

“Finish that sentence,” she warned, “and I’ll throw you out the window.”

The council members murmured among themselves. Vale’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

⸻

The fifth heir was quiet. Almost too quiet. He bowed politely and answered questions in clipped sentences. He seemed decent… but also distant. Like he was only there out of obligation.

Rowan couldn’t decide if that made him better or worse.

⸻

Through it all, Kai stood apart—leaning against a column near the edge of the chamber. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t move closer. But she could feel his eyes on her.

When it was her turn to spar against one of the heirs, Rowan’s foot slipped on the polished floor. A misstep. A flash of unsteady magic.

Before she could fall, a hand caught her wrist.

Kai.

He steadied her effortlessly, his grip warm and sure. Their eyes locked—and the world tilted. For a heartbeat, it was just them. Her pulse roared in her ears, and she could feel the faint heat of his magic brushing against hers.

Neither of them moved.

Then the council’s voice broke through. “Continue.”

Kai released her, stepping back like nothing had happened. But she felt the ghost of his touch long after.

⸻

The final test was outside, in the Skyforge field. A circle of scorched earth under an open sky. Here, the heirs displayed their raw power. Firestorms, wind funnels, crackling lightning—all meant to impress.

Rowan stood in the center, watching each display, her mind spinning. None of them felt right. None of them felt… like him.

Kai didn’t compete. He stayed at the edge, arms crossed, eyes unreadable.

When it was over, Vale addressed her. “Well, Dragonheart? Do any of these warriors stir the fire in your soul?”

Rowan’s throat tightened. She turned away from the expectant faces.

“I don’t want a dragon,” she said quietly, more to herself than to them.

She glanced at Kai one last time.

“I want a choice.”