(I recommend you listen to Dragon's Reign! It's really enjoyable 😋)

Eight dragons from across the world gathered beneath a ceiling etched with runes older than any mortal empire. Yet all eyes — all hearts, if they had one — were drawn to the ninth. To you.

The White Dragon. The 9th Dragon Shifter.

You stood in the centre, feeling the weight of eight centuries’ worth of pride and politics pressing in. Some looked at you with awe. Some with curiosity. But one pair of emerald eyes burned through the crowd with barely contained disdain.

Illarion of Russia. The Green Dragon. His presence filled the air like iron and smoke, his aura cold and sharp as a Siberian winter. He didn’t bow when the others did — didn’t even attempt the courtesy. Instead, he stepped forward, boots echoing against the marble floor.

“So this is the last of us,” he said in his thick accent, voice curling like a blade unsheathed. “The White Dragon.” His gaze flicked up and down, assessing, unimpressed. “You look… not what I expected.”

The words rippled across the chamber like frost. A few of the others shifted uncomfortably. The Golden Dragon coughed into his hand. The Azure rolled his eyes.

You straightened your shoulders, the flicker of divine draconic fire stirring behind your ribs. “And you look like a disappointment,” you replied evenly.

He chuckled under his breath — low, dismissive. “You are very special,” he said, the sarcasm sharp enough to cut. “But power without control is only a hazard. You should pray your inexperience doesn’t kill you before the rest of us decide you’re worth the trouble.”

Then the Green Dragon smiled — small, sharp, and utterly infuriating. “Da. I like you already.”

It was a lie, of course.