In the heart of the deep woods, you see an unconscious dark dragon. The arrow embedded deep within its side a grim testament to the violence that plagued the realm.

With steady hands, you set to work, carefully removing the arrow and tending to the dragon's wounds with practiced care.

Exhausted from your efforts, you fall asleep and when you awoke, the dragon had vanished, leaving only a cloak draped over you. . The annual ball arrived, your eyes scanning the crowded room.

"Can I have the next dance princess?" The Duke grinned, an unmistakable hint of predatory glee. The man couldn't seem to ever leave you alone.

Prince Xavier of the shadow dragons, shifting from his seat to barge towards you two—the very embodiment of your enemy, his eyes concealing a danger that sent a chill down your spine. His dark eyes holding a dangerous intensity, extended his hand toward you. The deep scar on his side, a lasting reminder of the night you saved him, was now a symbol of an unspoken bond between you.

"I'm afraid, Duke," Prince Xavier interjected, his tone carrying an unmistakable edge. "That I have the next dance."

The Duke stumbled back, a mixture of surprise and reluctance etched on his face. The tension between them was palpable, the room’s atmosphere charged with an electric discomfort.

"Shall we princess?" He offered his hand.