Throne of Ash and Anethyst

The Blood on the Balcony The wind howling off the jagged peaks of the Dragontooth Mountains carried the scent of ozone and ancient stone, rattling the heavy glass doors of the royal guest wing. Inside, the chamber was a sanctuary of deep velvets and dark oak, but Emmy Mortaga couldn't stop pacing. The air felt heavy, charged with a strange friction that made the fine hairs on her arms stand. on end. It was the eve of her twentieth birthday. For anyone else in the kingdom of her uncle, King Cato, turning twenty was a milestone of celebration. But for Emmy, it was a reminder of a heavy, volatile lineage. She was a hybrid-a rare and dangerous combination of supernatural bloodlines. From her father, Dimitrius, she had inherited the fierce, untamed spirit and sharp instincts of a werewolf. From her mother, Jasmine, she carried the lethal grace and sensory sharpness

of a vampire. Her mother had died of heart failure, a tragic fragility that felt wildly at odds with the terrifying strength running through Emmy's own veins. She reached up, her fingers wrapping around the cool, dark surface of the amulet resting against

her collarbone. Agatha . The stone was a deep, shifting violet, housing the raw, concentrated power of her great-grandmother, Gemma. Emmy wasn't a witch by blood. The magic didn't belong

to her body; it belonged to the stone. She could channel it, but her father's stern warnings always echoed in her mind: Consuming all that power will make you lose yourself, Emmy. It will take control of your mind until nothing of you is left. A sharp, metallic tang suddenly cut through the sweet scent of the birthday lilies on her vanity. Blood. It wasn't werewolf blood, nor was it vampire. It was

thicker, hotter, smelling of sulfur and molten ash. Before she could process the scent, a heavy thud shook the stone balcony outside her bedroom doors. The glass shattered slightly along the frame. Emmy froze, her werewolf claws instinctively extending as her eyes flashed

a predatory amber. Silently, using her vampire speed, she glided across the rug and unlocked the latch, pushing the heavy doors open into the freezing night air. Collapsed against the stone balustrade was a man. Or rather, a creature trying desperately to hold onto human form. He was massive, his broad shoulders propped against the railing, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. His shirt was torn to

ribbons, soaked in a thick, dark crimson that smoked slightly in the cold air. Across his ribs and tearing through the flesh of his abdomen, patches of deep, obsidian scales shimmered, reflecting the midnight sky like polished gems. He was a dragon shifter. A creature her wolf side instinctively loathed and feared. "Get... inside," the stranger growled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that resonated straight through the floorboards and into Emmy's chest. He lifted his head, and Emmy's breath caught. His eyes weren't human. They were a brilliant, molten gold, the vertical slits of his pupils dilated with agony and raw power. "You're bleeding to death," Emmy whispered. Her wolf side roared in her mind to leave him, to let the dragon die, but her

With trembling but deliberate fingers, Emmy began to clean the deep, jagged lacerations across his chest. As she threaded the needle and began to stitch, she felt his golden eyes burning into her. "Why aren't you running, wolf?" he rasped, his hand gripping the stone railing so hard it began to crack under his strength. “Your kind... hates mine."

"I don't have time for ancient feuds," Emmy murmured, leaning closer. She reached the final knot near his hip, but as she tightened the thread, her balance shifted. To steady herself, her bare palm pressed directly against the exposed, uninjured skin of his abdomen-right where the human flesh merged into those midnight-black scales. The moment her fingers made contact, an electric shock ripped through them both. Emmy gasped, trying to pull her hand away, but it was as if she were glued to him. Beneath her fingertips, his scales began to radiate an intense, suffocating heat. A golden light flared where their skin met, weaving invisible, unbreakable threads between their heartbeats. The dragon shifter let out a low, possessive roar. Before she could pull away, his large, blood-stained hand shot out, wrapping around the back of her neck. He pulled her forward, crashing his lips against hers. The kiss was catastrophic. It was a consuming, fiery claim that ignited her vampire senses and sent her wolf into a frantic spin. Emmy tasted iron, smoke, and an intoxicating sweetness. The power of Agatha flared against her chest, the amulet glowing a blinding violet as if trying to feed off the dragon's ancient magic, but Emmy fought the urge to draw from the stone, forcing herself to rely only on her own body. Her hands gripped his heavy shoulders, her body arching into his as a terrifying, beautiful warmth flooded her veins, anchoring her existence to him. Just as suddenly as it began, he broke the kiss. He looked at her, his golden eyes wide with shock and fierce possessiveness. "I will find you," he whispered. With a violent surge of energy, he vaulted over the balcony railing, disappearing into the darkness below. The morning sun brought no relief. Emmy sat at the long, polished table of the grand dining hall, staring blankly at the birthday feast laid out before her. She hadn't slept a wink. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the phantom imprint of his lips, the searing heat of his scales radiating beneath her fingers. "You look pale, Emmy," a deep, booming voice broke her trance. She looked up to see her uncle, King Cato, standing at the head of the table. Beside him stood her father, Dimitrius Mortaga, his expression as stoic and protective as ever. "I'm just tired, Uncle," Emmy lied smoothly. Dimitrius took a seat next to his daughter, his sharp werewolf senses picking up on her subtle anxiety. "There is an unsettled energy in the air today, Emmy. The border scouts reported dragon shifter activity near the peaks last night. Vile beasts." He spat the words, his jaw clenching. "They are entirely uncivilized." Emmy's heart hammered against her ribs, but she kept her expression perfectly still. Cato leaned forward, his expression turning deadly serious. "You are twenty now, Emmy. You carry the blood of Caliana through your late mother, and with that comes immense vulnerability. We must warn you again-stay away

from the northern mountains. Especially stay away from the dragons." "They are natural enemies to our wolf blood," her father added, his voice dropping to a gravelly warning. "They are governed by ancient, brutal laws. Their magic is absolute, Emmy. If a dragon shifter touches you-truly touches you with intent-they can bind their soul to yours. It is an unbreakable bond. A claim that strips away your choice, tying your life, your magic, and your fate to theirs forever. If a dragon ever tries to claim you, we will tear them apart." Emmy swallowed hard, the taste of smoke and iron flashing vividly on her tongue. She wanted to scream, to tell them that the warning was twelve hours too late. By midnight, the castle was finally silent. Emmy stood by the balcony doors, watching the shadows stretch across the stone floor. Her inner wolf was restless, pacing inside her mind, feeling a strange pull toward the darkness outside. The air in the room suddenly shifted, growing heavy with the scent of pine, sulfur, and mountain air. A figure stepped from the moonlight into the chamber with a quiet, predatory grace. It was him. He was no longer covered in blood; instead, he wore forged, dark steel armor that clung to his massive frame. "The doors were open," he said, his voice a low resonance. "I didn't think you'd come back," Emmy replied, her vampire speed tensing, ready to fight or run, while her wolf recoiled in instinctual hatred of his dragon aura. "You never told me your name." " Ignisvath ," he answered, taking a slow step forward. The vertical slits of his molten gold eyes fixed on her. "I came because the bond between us is growing stronger. If we do not address it now, it will become an unbreakable tether." He stopped just before her, his massive height towering over her. Ignisvath looked down at her, his expression a mix of fierce dragon possessiveness and the harsh realization of what she was. "You smell of the wolf," he growled low, though there was no malice in it-only fighting against his own instincts. "Our kinds do not mix. To stay is to risk a war. If I don't leave now, our fates become permanently entwined." Emmy felt the conflict tearing through her. Her father's warnings echoed in her ears, and the purple amulet around her neck pulsed, offering her the dark, intoxicating witch power inside it if she wanted to blast this beast away. But looking into Ignisvath's golden eyes, she didn't want to use the amulet. She didn't want to lose herself to the magic. Instead, she stepped directly into his space. Defying her own wolf blood, she reached up and touched his sharp, chiseled jawlines. The ancient dragon magic ignited instantly between them, a torrent of heat that shattered all human restraint. Ignisvath let out a low, guttural sound, his large hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against his armored chest. He leaned down, catching her lips in a breathless, bruising embrace that sealed their escalating destiny in the dark.