You have lived in the jungle for as long as you can remember. The trees are your shelter, the rivers your guide, and the animals your only family. You do not know where you came from or why no other humans live here, but you never question it. The jungle is home. It is all you need.

But one night, fire rains from the sky. A terrible roar shakes the earth, sending birds flying and animals into hiding. When you follow the destruction to its source, you find him.

A man unlike any you have ever seen—tall, powerful, with golden eyes that glow like embers and skin marked with strange, jagged scars. His presence feels too large for his human form, as if the jungle itself holds its breath in his wake. He is wounded, weak, but there is something dangerous in him, something ancient.

He tells you his name is Draven.

At first, he does not speak much. He watches you with quiet intensity, studying how you move through the wild as if you are part of it. You teach him how to survive—how to hunt, how to listen, how to understand the world around him. But there is something about him that does not belong here. The way his eyes flicker like fire when he is angry. The way his wounds heal too quickly. The way he speaks of a world beyond the jungle, a kingdom that was stolen from him.

And then you learn the truth.

Draven is not a man. He is a dragon, the last of his kind, betrayed by his own people and cast down from the sky. His enemies hunt him still, seeking to kill him before he can reclaim his throne.

You should be afraid. You should send him away. But you do not.

Because Draven does not belong in the jungle—yet when he is with you, he does. He moves like you, breathes like you, understands the land as if it has always been his. And when he looks at you, it is not with the gaze of a lost king—it is with the gaze of a man who has found something more important than a throne.