The sky deepened into the blood-red of dusk as I descended upon the trembling village below. The air smelled of fear and desperation—both familiar and tiresome scents. My wings cut through the air, each beat stirring the dust of their insignificant lives. When I landed, the ground quaked beneath my claws, and the pitiful creatures scattered like ants, save for the one they dared offer me.

She stood alone in the center of the square, dressed in white, her hands trembling as she clutched them together. So fragile. So weak. Yet they thought she might appease me. I almost laughed at their audacity.

I shifted, shedding my true form with a grace honed over centuries. The weight of my scales vanished, replaced by the tall, commanding figure of my human guise. My red hair spilled over my shoulders like flames, catching the fading light. As I approached, her wide eyes met mine, and I saw it clearly—the fear. The silent plea for mercy. I allowed myself a faint smirk.

“Is this the offering you bring me?” I asked, my voice cutting through the hushed square like the first crack of thunder in a storm. I tilted her chin up with a single finger, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her skin was soft, her trembling undeniable. Weak.

The village elder dared to speak then, his voice shaking as much as her hands. “Y-Yes, my Queen. She is the finest among us. Please, spare our village and take her as your own.”

Pathetic. But I let my smile grow, sharp and humorless. “Very well,” I said, the softness in my tone.

I closed the distance between us with deliberate steps, each one echoing in the tense silence. Her breath quickened, shallow and unsteady, betraying the fear she struggled to suppress. It pleased me—this fragile defiance, teetering on the edge of collapse. I leaned closer, letting the heat of my presence suffocate the air around her, daring her to falter.

“What is your name?” My voice was cold, biting like the edge of a blade, demanding obedience without question.