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#Chapter 11 What Rained Fire

作者: Jane Above Story
last update 公開日: 2026-03-25 11:22:29

Lyra

My sleep is restless. It is filled with the red glow of fire. I dream of my mother, her hand around mine as she pulls me through town. Flames roar all around me, consuming buildings and businesses, uncaring of the homes or the people within them. I dream of her death—of the fire that rained upon her from above, like a divine retribution against her very existence. I dream of her screams, of her flesh bubbling and boiling before falling off her bones. This dream reveals more to me now, howe
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  • The Dragon King’s Chosen Tribute   #Chapter 14 What Is Going On Here

    LyraMy rest is peaceful. It is like I am resting on a cloud, with cool sheets that caresses my skin and keep me comfortable all night. I don’t have any nightmares, nor am I startled awake. There are no sounds, or snores of other tributes, no fear of being picked on or pushed.The only reason I ever wake up is from the ravenous pang in my stomach; so crippling my eyes snap open as it growls noisily. I blink, my gaze finding Maren who stands with a bundle of linens, gaping at stomach. “Goodness me, Lady Lyra. Is there a bear in there?”I laugh, “It certainly feels like it. I am starving.”Maren sets the linens down and comes to my side, handing me a set of shoes and laying out clothes for today. They are simple, but colorful and well made. Nothing like the rags I am so used to wearing. “Your meal was supposed to be here already; the King had requested the kitchen staff assign someone specifically to make your food. Shall I go ask about it?”“Do you mind if I join you?”Maren smiles, “N

  • The Dragon King’s Chosen Tribute   #Chapter 13 The Promise He Couldn't Make

    A cold sweat blooms along my skin like an allergic reaction. The mere size of him is intimidating; nothing like a human man. I struggle in his hold, trying to step away, yet I am yanked from my room. The door slammed shut behind me before I was pushed against it. I swallow, shifting against his cock; my movement causing him to groan.This is bad. Worse than his size is the legend that comes with coupling with a dragon. From all the ancient warnings and history books, it has been described as having sex with molten lava. I can already feel his heat overwhelming me. I struggle again, “I apologize, your Majesty.”His grip becomes iron and he presses into me; pinning me to the door. “Hold still.”I swallow, unable to stop the final twitch that shifts my hips away from him. Yet he only chases me, lips coming to my ear to growl, “Hold. Still.”Butterflies burst in my stomach, their ravenous wings sending shivers to my core. His breath is hot against my neck, the smell of him overwhelming my

  • The Dragon King’s Chosen Tribute   #Chapter 12 Instinct

    LyraI lie atop this cloud like bed, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging high above my head. I am beyond overwhelmed. Maren rushes about the room, procuring a night gown and linens to dress me; which in itself is just... odd. I’ve always dressed myself.I can’t seem to find the words to properly express how poorly my plans have gone. I shouldnt be here. I should've been passed over as queen. I should have snagged that procurement job and looked for the right chance to flee. Revenge on my father seems so unattainable, now. His betrayal of me, of mother, burns in my gut like hot coals.Yet I am stuck here entertaining this asinine idea of being a “true queen.” Insanity, all of it. Maren clears her throat, holding up a simple white gown that will stop at my knees. “come, my lady, let us get you suited for the night.”A sigh escapes my lips as I force myself to rise, trudging over to stop before her feet. I catch a frown gracing her pretty mouth and I can already hear how grateful I

  • The Dragon King’s Chosen Tribute   #Chapter 11 What Rained Fire

    LyraMy sleep is restless. It is filled with the red glow of fire. I dream of my mother, her hand around mine as she pulls me through town. Flames roar all around me, consuming buildings and businesses, uncaring of the homes or the people within them. I dream of her death—of the fire that rained upon her from above, like a divine retribution against her very existence. I dream of her screams, of her flesh bubbling and boiling before falling off her bones. This dream reveals more to me now, however. The other shouting around me, the fire that streams from above in relentless arches, claiming the townspeople below just as they claimed mother.A disater I had forgotten. But here it is, reeling behind my eyes like a bad movie, reminding me even as I sleep that her death was bizarre. Random and unnatural.My eyes snap open, hair sticking to my damp face as my chest heaves with deep breaths. I hate that dream's appearance, but it often comes once a month. Only this time, it revealed so much

  • The Dragon King’s Chosen Tribute   #Chapter 10 Second Night

    ZarekI frown as I miss the button hole for the fifth time. It has been quite awhile since I dressed myself. I dismissed all my maids to assist with preparing for the banquet, yet I never imagined I would struggle with such a simple task so. My hands shake; something animalistic twitching beneath my skin. As if wondering why I bother with clothes at all.Cinching my eyes shut, I stave off a wave of nausea. I don’t plan to linger tonight, just long enough to perform some simple tests and hopefully filter out who is most likely to be the true queen. I’ve racked my brain for hours trying to decide how to go about such a task. At first, I thought of a trial by fire—something safe, like holding a match to their hand. But then I remembered the Prophets' words, that The True Queen would merely be able to bear him an heir. There is no such assumption that she will be immune to the flame—She could very well burn to death.That was enough to toss that idea quickly. The only sure way to know is

  • The Dragon King’s Chosen Tribute   #Chapter 9 First Participant

    LyraThe work is grueling; continuing on far into the night as I scrub and press and wash everything in sight. Eventually we do make out way to the main hall, where guests will enter and be guided to the ballroom. The head maid is relentless, nit-picking my work to the point that I wonder if I ever truly knew how to clean.I can’t blame her for her sour attitude, however. No matter how much my joints ache as I begin sweeping the entryway rug. I deal with it silently, not willing to cause her more trouble. When I think about the pain she’s in, my heart tightens to the point that I can’t breathe. My mother experienced that pain for more than a minute. But the maid? She experiences it every day. Grueling aches that I can see disturb her as she grabs an ointment and rubs it beneath her mask. From the smell, it’s a numbing agent.So, I bear my burdens quietly. Changing tasks with ease, redoing my work without protest—just to help however I can. During my time, however, I catch bits of info

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