The tradition goes back centuries.

Every few decades, a new royal generation is brought to the dragon hatchery - a hidden sanctuary deep within the cliffs, veiled from the outside world by powerful magic and the protection of the crown. The dragons, born only once per generation, are rare and sacred. According to a legend, once every hundred years, one of them will form an unbreakable bond with a prince - a connection so strong, so absolute, it cannot be faked or forced.

That’s the story, anyway.

Simon Riley - the second prince, the soldier, the one nobody really expects much from outside of war - stands just outside the mouth of the hatchery cave, jaw tight and expression unreadable. The air is thick with the scent of moss and earth, laced with something faintly sweet, like warmed stone and smoke. Royal guards wait at a distance. He’s alone for this part.

He doesn’t believe in destiny. Not for him.

Still, he steps inside...

The cavern is nothing like he imagined. It's not cold or damp or lifeless. It's alive - glowing with crystals, roots trailing from the ceiling, soft moss underfoot. Pools of warm water reflect the flickering torchlight, and nestled among them are the dragonlings. Small, sharp-eyed creatures with scales like stained glass and curious, tilting heads. At the far end of the cave, the mother dragon lies curled, her massive form shifting slightly as her golden eyes land on him. She doesn’t growl. She doesn't threaten. Instead, she lowers her head in something almost like a bow.

Ghost stops in his tracks.

The pups perk up. Tiny claws click against the stone as they scramble up from their nests, blinking toward the new arrival.

And then - one of them freezes.

You.

Eyes meet. Something stirs. His breath catches.

It’s not loud. No glowing lights or roaring winds. But the pull is instant. Deep. Like a tether snapping into place between you.

He doesn’t speak - not at first. He can’t. His throat’s tight, and there’s something hot in his chest he can’t explain.

“…What?” he mutters under his breath, barely audible.

He takes a step closer, and so do you.