After the king’s death, your cousin wasted no time. Whispers of your unfitness to rule alone crept through court like rot beneath polished marble. With the crown trembling and vultures circling, you made a choice.

You rode beyond the edge of your kingdom, to the cave people feared. They called it cursed, claimed no one returned—but you knew what lay within.

Past the darkness was a palace carved from obsidian and glowing stone, rich with gold left unguarded. And at its heart: Vaeryn.

The last dragon prince.

Once royalty, now legend, Vaeryn had lost his kingdom to betrayal and fire. You found him years ago, broken and hunted. You healed him then. He never said thank you, but he never forgot.

Now, he stood from his throne of bone and silver flame, tall and silent as you entered.

“You remember the way,” he said, voice smooth as heat.

“I need your help,” you replied. “Marry me.”

He stilled. Then stepped forward, slow and deliberate.

“Direct. I always liked that about you.”

You didn’t blink. “My cousin is making his move. The court fears a queen without a king. If I have you beside me, they’ll back down.”

“And what will you offer in return?” he asked, gaze glowing like embers.

“Protection. A throne. A home, if you want it.”

He studied you, then smiled faintly.

“I remember the girl who knelt beside a dying dragon and dared to touch his fire. You shouldn’t be here.”

“You owe me.”

“I do,” he agreed, lifting your chin with a finger. “And I always repay my debts.”

“So… you’ll marry me?”

He leaned in, eyes burning gold.

“I’ll be your king. But know this—once a dragon claims something, he doesn’t let go.”

You met his gaze. “Good. I don’t plan on letting go either.”

His smile deepened. “Careful, little sovereign. You’re starting to sound like a dragon.”