His Thief, His Curse

I never thought I’d hear him cry.

Not like this.

Not the kind of broken, gut-wrenching sobs that forced their way out of him, his shoulders trembling as he wiped at his face with shaking hands. I had seen him angry before, had seen him spit venom and wield magic with the force of a god—but never this.

Never tears.

“You lied to me,” he whispered, his voice raw. “You never loved me, did you?”

I didn’t answer.

What was there to say? That I had once meant it? That there had been a time when I touched him and wanted nothing more than to keep him close? That I had whispered his name in the dark, hands buried in his hair, lips pressed to his skin, and believed—even for a moment—that I could love him more than I loved power?

It didn’t matter now.

Because I had taken what I needed. And he knew it.

The torches in the throne room flickered, their light casting flickering shadows over the polished stone and wall.

He stood before me, hands trembling at his sides, magic coiling around him like a living thing. His robes—ones I had once pulled from his body in the dead of night—were torn, stained with whatever spell he had poured his soul into. His chest rose and fell with each shuddering breath, his lips parted as though he had more to say but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

He was shaking his head now, laughing bitterly between uneven breaths. “I was such a fool,” he choked out. “I would have given you anything, Darius. Anything. I would have burned the world for you.” His eyes met mine. “And you knew that.”

A part of me wanted to look away.

I didn’t.

I met his gaze, unflinching, unwilling to show weakness because truly, there was nothing to show.

And then he moved.

Not forward. Not back. Just… moved. His fingers twitched, his breath caught, his magic pulsed like a second heartbeat. The air shimmered, magic pressing against my skin like fire and ice at once. My instincts screamed at me to move, to shift, to do something—but I had drained him, taken everything he had to offer until he was nothing but a frayed thread on the verge of snapping.

He shouldn’t have had anything left to give.

But rage—betrayal—love turned to ruin… they had power, too.

And he poured all of it into me.

The pain hit like a thousand blades burying themselves into my flesh at once. My knees buckled. A roar tore from my throat as the magic twisted inside me, sinking into my bones, my veins, my very soul. My wings burned as they tried to unfurl, but something in me broke, something I had never felt before.

It wasn’t just pain. It was wrong.

Fire.

It should have been fire.

But when I opened my mouth to unleash it, to incinerate the traitor standing before me, nothing came. No heat, no embers, no raging inferno to swallow him whole—just air. Just… nothing.

Fear shot through me, deep and quick. My claws scraped against the marble, my wings spasmed, trying to unfurl—but they couldn’t. Something was wrong.

I roared, but the sound was jagged, fractured. My vision blurred as I dropped to one knee, my tail dragging limply behind me. The pain wasn’t just in my bones—it was inside me, sinking into my soul like rusted iron driven deep beneath my skin.

The guards rushed in, swords drawn, their boots pounding against the floor. I heard my name shouted, but the words barely registered. My vision blurred, shifting in and out of focus, and through the haze, I saw him.

He stood motionless, watching me with tear-streaked cheeks and hollow eyes.

“You dare—” My voice was a snarl, hoarse with anger, my body trembling as I forced myself upright. My claws flexed, my teeth bared. “You think you can take my power and live?”

My rage was scorching, but my body betrayed me.

I lunged—or tried to. My legs buckled, my wings barely twitched, my fire was gone.

The wizard flinched but didn’t move.

Even as I reached for him.

Even as I snarled, “I will tear you apart with my bare hands.”

But before I could, my body locked up, seized by a force I didn’t understand. My breath stuttered, my pulse hammering in my skull as whatever curse he had placed on me dug deeper, branding itself inside me. I felt my dragon form breaking, twisting into something lesser, something in-between.

One of my men shouted in horror. Another rushed forward to steady me, but I shoved him off. I would not fall in front of them. I would not show weakness.

The wizard wiped at his face with shaking hands. He was still crying.

“The heart that glows,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “That’s the only thing that can break this.”

The words meant nothing to me.

Not yet.

Not through the haze of my anger, the echoing failure of my body, the humiliation of losing what had made me unstoppable.

“Find it,” he said. “If you even can.”

And then he was gone.

Vanishing like mist in the wind, his magic swallowing him whole before I could reach him, before I could make him pay.

Silence fell over the throne room.

The guards stood frozen, waiting for an order.

I clenched my fists, anger burning through me like a second heartbeat. I tried to shift again, to feel the full force of my dragon form beneath my skin.

Nothing.

A growl rumbled in my throat. The marble beneath me cracked as I dug my claws into it.

I would find him.

I would hunt him down.

And when I did, I wouldn’t just kill him.

I would make him beg for death.