MasukSeraphinaCrossing the barrier felt like being pulled through a song I had never heard but somehow already knew.Cold first.Then heat.Then pressure — like the air itself pressed into my lungs and demanded I breathe differently.When my feet struck solid ground again, I stumbled.Magic here is not thin.It is not strained.It is thick. Layered. Alive.It hums in the marrow of my bones.For a moment, I cannot speak.The sky above me is not the same blue I left behind. It is deeper — edged in silver light, as though the sun shines through something crystalline. The trees along the ridge shimmer faintly, their bark veined with what looks like pale crystal, not sap. The wind does not simply move here.It sings.I turn slowly.“This is—”“Yes,” my father says quietly behind me. “Home.”The word does not sit easily in my chest.Home.I swallow and close my eyes.And I reach.Not with hands.With the bond.It answers.Faint. Distant. Steady.Alive.Relief crashes through me so hard my knees
AurelionThe hall still smells like smoke.And blood.Not enough blood for what they tried to do.I stand where she vanished.The stone beneath my boots is cracked from my shift. One of the great pillars is splintered where I struck it mid-transformation. Lantern glass crunches underfoot as dragons move carefully through the wreckage, helping the injured, binding wounds, lifting debris.But I do not move.My dragon claws at the inside of my ribs.Find her.I reach.The bond answers.Faint.Distant.Alive.Not screaming.Not broken.Not afraid.Just… far.That steadies me more than anything else could.“She’s alive,” I murmur.Kaelith steps beside me, ash streaked across his jaw. “You feel her?”“Yes.”“Where?”“Not here.”His eyes sharpen. “Malrec?”“I don’t think so.”That makes him go still.Jakob approaches next. “We secured five. The rest either dead or fled.”“Separate the prisoners,” I order. My voice sounds calm. It surprises even me. “No two together. Rotate guards. No one spe
ElarionThe night before, I heard her.Not with ears.With blood.With bone.Her music carried through the thinning seam like silver thread drawn through torn silk. Each note vibrated against the barrier, not violently, not recklessly — but with intent she did not yet fully understand.She was not merely playing.She was aligning.I stood upon the crystalline ridge that marked one of the weakest points between our realms and watched the seam respond.For years, it had sagged and devoured magic like a starving thing. It consumed what crossed and gave nothing back. That was why we created the Madrigals. Why we sent them. Why we bled our own lines into humanity.To feed it.To sustain it.But when she bonded — truly bonded — the barrier did not sag.It tightened.It hummed.The seam drew inward, stabilizing in ways I had not witnessed in centuries.Pride swelled in my chest.My daughter.The last born of a first line.More fae than Madrigal.More bridge than sacrifice.Around me, the pat
MalrecKaerin returned at dawn, scorched at the edges and breathing hard, but alive.I knew the attempt had succeeded the moment I saw him.The seam does not leave survivors untouched.He shifted clumsily in the cavern mouth, scales rippling back into flesh. His eyes burned with something between triumph and dread.“It opened,” he said hoarsely.My pulse sharpened.“For how long?”“Long enough.”He handed me the reply — not parchment this time, but a shard of crystal etched with sigils only old bloodlines would recognize.House Vaereth had received my message.And they had answered.The seam is fragile but widening. A stabilization event has altered its structure. When the next surge occurs, we will send warriors. Be ready.Stabilization event.So they felt it too.Of course they did.I dismissed Kaerin to rest and returned to the inner chamber, where my remaining allies gathered in uneasy silence.The night before the gathering, the air shifted again.Not violently.But decisively.T
AurelionWhen we stepped into the great hall, I felt it immediately.The tension.It threaded through the air like a drawn bowstring.Outwardly, I smiled. I greeted nobles, commanders, elders. I inclined my head at appropriate intervals. I held Seraphina’s hand as though this were simply another gathering beneath the banners of Emberhold.But my dragon did not relax.He prowled beneath my skin, every instinct alert.Eyes followed us as we entered.Not subtle glances.Measured ones.We moved slowly through the hall. Music swelled from the musicians’ balcony. Lanternlight flickered against stone walls. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filled the space.Seraphina was radiant beside me.No disguise.No shadow.Just her.The sea-colored gown caught the light with every step. Her braids framed her face, soft but deliberate. She held herself with a composure that did not feel rehearsed — it felt earned.Some dragons bowed their heads slightly as we passed.Others studied her.A few
SeraphinaWhen Aurelion told me he intended to announce our bond publicly, I forgot how to breathe.Not because I didn’t want it.Because I understood exactly what it meant.We were standing on the western parapet when he said it. The wind had been steady, the sea calm in a way that felt deliberate. His voice was calm too — not impulsive, not romantic — but resolute.“I will announce it at the gathering.”Not I’m thinking about it. Not Perhaps we should.I will.I had nodded.Of course I had.What else was I going to do? Argue with a king in front of three commanders and a sky full of listening dragons?But later, alone in my chamber, the weight of it settled into my bones.Announcing a bond — even one not yet sealed fully — wasn’t just romantic.It was political.It was territorial.It was… final in a way.If he declared me publicly as his intended mate, the dragons of Emberhold would see me not as guest, not as Madrigal, not as curious anomaly —But as future queen.I stood in fro







