The air around the stone arena was heavy with thunder. Rain clung to Kaelen’s dark hair, dripping into his eyes as the iron gates creaked open. Beyond, the cavernous maw of the dragons’ habitat yawned like the mouth of fate itself. His heartbeat was thunder in his chest, but it wasn’t the trial that filled him with dread—it was the figure pressed against him, arms locked around his chest, refusing to let go.

Lyara.

Her cheek was against his shoulder, her breath trembling. She had braided her hair for the trial, though strands of it had already come loose in the rain. Kaelen held her tighter, wishing he could freeze this moment. “We’ll meet again,” he whispered into her hair, though the lie burned his throat.

She leaned back, her lips parting as if she wanted to tell him something—something important—but the horns blared, sharp and merciless. Their names were called. The trial had begun.

They broke apart, eyes clinging for a heartbeat longer before they were torn away.

Inside the dragons’ cavern, the world was fire and shadow. The ground shook as wings unfurled above him, dozens of shapes in the dark, scales glinting like molten metal. The air reeked of smoke and ozone. Kaelen gripped the hilt of his training sword, though he knew it would be useless here. This wasn’t about fighting—it was about being chosen.

The first dragon swooped low, a flash of crimson scales and scorching heat. It passed him without pause. Another landed in front of him, eyes like liquid gold, and for a breath Kaelen thought—hoped—it was the one. But it sniffed him, let out a growl that vibrated through his bones, and leapt away.

Rejection after rejection scraped against his chest like claws. Around him, screams echoed—students devoured or burned in seconds. Kaelen forced himself forward, deeper into the cavern, refusing to collapse.

Then he saw it.

A great obsidian dragon, its wings scarred, eyes an icy silver that seemed to pierce through him. It landed before him with a crash that shook stone loose from the ceiling. Kaelen dropped his sword, every instinct screaming at him to kneel. And so he did.

The dragon lowered its massive head. Their eyes locked. And in that moment, Kaelen felt a rush of fire, storm, and memory flood into him. He was no longer himself, yet more than he had ever been.

The dragon chose him.

When it spread its wings, Kaelen climbed onto its back, his body trembling. Together they rose into the storm, the cavern shrinking below, the cries of those left behind fading into the wind. He had survived.

The academy’s spires came into view through sheets of rain. The dragon landed with a ground-shaking thud, and the gathered teachers and students erupted in awe. Kaelen slid down, heart still racing. He should have felt triumphant. But then he saw her.

Lyara.

She was kneeling on the soaked ground, her black dress torn, her skin streaked with blood and rain. Her braid had unraveled, strands plastered to her face. Behind her, like a shadow out of legend, loomed a dragon unlike any Kaelen had ever seen. Vast, ancient, its scales black as night and its eyes burning with the weight of centuries. The greatest of them all.

Kaelen’s breath caught. Impossible.

The teachers surged forward, their expressions a mixture of awe and terror. “She—she’s alive—” one stammered. “That dragon—” another gasped, unable to finish.

But Lyara’s expression wasn’t triumphant. She looked broken, hollow, as though some terrible truth had been carved into her. When the teachers moved closer, voices trembling with questions, she lifted her head—and screamed at them.

“You send us to die!” Her voice ripped through the storm. “Every girl who enters the trial—you send them to dragons that you know will kill them. You never wanted us to survive. You wanted us erased, forgotten, because the thought of a woman riding beside you terrifies you!”

The teachers froze, their faces paling under her fury.

“I should be dead,” she spat, her voice raw. “But I’m not. He chose me.” She jerked her head toward the colossal dragon looming behind her.