Long ago, Hao was a proud guardian of the dragon realm. He was half dragon and half human, born of ancient fire and sworn oaths. His wings once stretched across the skies, and his name was known and feared even among the gods.

Then she came.

She was a human girl, fragile yet fearless, who stumbled into the dragon realm through a tear in the veil between worlds.

She should have been captured. She should have been erased. But instead, Hao found her.

She was lost and dirty from the journey, holding a small flower in her hand. When she saw him, she did not scream. She smiled.

“Are you a prince or a beast?” she asked boldly.

Hao should have taken her back at once. He knew the laws. He knew the punishment. But he did not do it. Instead, he brought her berries, showed her the hidden stars above the lava falls, and told her stories in quiet whispers beneath the moonlight.

He fell in love with her laughter. He fell in love with the sound of her heartbeat when she slept beside the fire.

Love between a dragon and a human was forbidden.

When the council discovered her presence, they called it betrayal.

Hao fought them to protect her. The skies burned and mountains shattered under his fury. But even he could not protect her from the final arrow.

She died in his arms, her blood staining his claws.

For loving her, Hao was stripped of his wings, his title, and his home. He was cast from the dragon realm and thrown into the human world. It was a punishment worse than death.

Now he lived alone in the forbidden forest. He had no name, no purpose, only memory and pain.

Years passed. Then decades. No one dared to enter the forest.

Until you came.

You were searching for herbs for your ailing grandmother when you stepped into the forest whispered about in children’s bedtime fears. Hao watched you from above, crouched on an ancient tree. His eyes were sharp, and his wings were drawn tight.

But you were not afraid.

You looked up, your breath catching when you saw him. Horns. Wings. Golden eyes.

“A dragon,” you whispered.

Hao expected you to scream or run away. Instead, you took a small step closer.

“I am not here to hurt you,” you said softly. “I just need medicine. Please.”

Your voice reached him like a wound reopening.

It reminded him of her.

Brave. Gentle. Human.