Fate Wrote His Name

Chapter One: The Last Dragon

(Drake’s POV)

For centuries, they have hunted my kind.

Once, dragons ruled the skies, our shadows stretching across kingdoms, our roars shaking the earth. But humans feared what they could not control. One by one, my kin fell—slaughtered by cowards who called themselves heroes. They carved our bones into weapons, melted our scales into armor, and told stories of their victories.

Now, I am the last.

Drake—the final dragon of this world. And they want to get rid of me too.

The night was alive with laughter, the scent of roasted meats, the clinking of goblets filled with wine. From my perch above the city, I watched them celebrate, my golden eyes burning with quiet fury.

The kingdom of Latin was rejoicing over something—some festival or foolish tradition. The palace was draped in golden banners, torches lighting up the night like fallen stars. Humans twirled across the grand courtyard, unaware of the monster lurking just beyond their walls.

But I wasn’t here for their celebrations.

I was here because of what I had overheard.

Down below, in the shadows of a quiet alley, two men whispered drunkenly over their drinks.

“They say the king has put a price on the dragon’s head.”

My blood ran hot.

“The last dragon,” the other slurred. “If he is captured, the man who brings him in will be rewarded with land, gold… even the prince’s hand in marriage.”

I clenched my claws into the stone ledge.

A bounty. On me.

The king of Latin truly believed he could take me down. That he could bribe men to do what generations of warriors had failed to accomplish. Did he not remember how I burned his father’s army to ash? Did he not recall the countless hunters who had tried and died at my claws?

Fools.

If they wanted a war, I would bring it to them.

But fire alone would not be enough. No, I wanted the king to suffer. I wanted him to know what it felt like to lose something irreplaceable.

And what did he cherish most? His son.

Prince Fred.

I had spotted him once, from a distance. I knew that he was the jewel of the kingdom, the one treasure for which the king would kill. If I took him, it would shatter him. And when he shattered, I would burn his city to the ground.

With a snarl, I spread my wings and dived into the blackness.

The Festival of Fools

The palace was awe-inspiring, its golden minarets climbing up towards heaven.

I flew overhead, circling above the party, hidden in the night’s darkness. Below, humans danced under the moonlight, their laughter a symphony of ignorance.

Nobles in dazzling gowns and luxurious robes filled the courtyard, cheeks stained with wine and indulgence. But my gaze found only one.

Prince Fred.

He wore silver-trimmed armor, his dark locks framing a face carved with quiet strength. Unlike the others, he was still, unreadable. There was something in his eyes—something that made the fire within me coil with curiosity.

I had expected fear. I had expected terror.

But he wasn’t afraid.

And then, the king stood, lifting his goblet high, his voice booming across the courtyard.

“Tonight, we celebrate the beginning of our kingdom’s future! A future free from the darkness cast by the last dragon’s shadow!”

The crowd erupted into cheers. Goblets clashed together. Laughter rang out.

I growled.

Fools.

Did they not realize their enemy hovered above them?

Enough.

Time had come.

The Sky Burns

I let out a deafening roar and dived from the air.

The moment my claws struck the palace floor, the world shattered into chaos.

Women screamed. Men stumbled back, knocking over goblets and plates of food. The music cut off abruptly, and the sweet scent of wine turned to the acrid bite of terror.

I stretched my wings, towering above them all. The torches flickered against my dark scales, making me glow like living fire. My golden eyes burned with the rage of centuries. Smoke curled from my nostrils, filling the room with the promise of destruction.

Terror.

It thickened the air, sinking into every breath, every heartbeat.

But not him.

Fred stood in the midst of the frantic crowd, expression unreadable. He did not flee. Did not scream.

He merely watched me, as if he had been waiting for me.

Something strange flickered in my chest.

Then, the king’s voice rang out, shaking with rage.

“GUARDS! TAKE THE BEAST INTO CUSTODY!”

I laughed. A low, guttural sound that sent a shiver through the hall.

Did he truly believe his men could stop me?

The guards charged, swords drawn, their steel glinting under the torchlight.

Foolish.

I lashed my tail, sending them crashing into banquet tables. Silverware clattered. Platters overturned. The scent of roasted meat and spilled wine filled the air.

I breathed in deeply, allowing flames to curl within me. A warning.

None of them moved.

And then, I turned to him.

The prince.

He was the reason I was here. And now, he was mine.

With a swift movement, I lunged forward, my claws wrapping around his waist. He was shorter than I had imagined, lean but strong beneath my grip.

The king’s scream rang in my ears.

“NO! STOP HIM!”

Too late.

I thrust into the sky, the prince held tightly in my grasp. Below, the castle shrank into nothingness, the screams of humans fading into silence.

I expected him to struggle. To fight.

But he did nothing.

Fred did not thrash. He did not cry out. He did not even blink.

He was still.

I peered down at him, confused.

He gazed up at me, calm—too calm. Then, to my utter shock, he smiled.

A strange chill ran through me.

This human—this prince who was supposed to be my prisoner—why did it feel like he had captured me?

For the first time in my life, I was uncertain.