Chapter 2

Elaine POV:

Pressed against the cold stone pillar, I leaned out just enough to look over the bowed heads of the kneeling nobles toward the bronze doors.

Grant Walters strode into the hall. As the Dragon Marshal and crown prince of the realm, he wore a black military uniform stitched with pure gold dragonfire thread, his heavy boots ringing against the floor. Through the collar of his coat, a pure gold dragon core pulsed over his heart—the mark of Dragon-God blood. His cold gaze swept across the crowd without pausing on a single face as he headed toward the high table.

I pulled back into the shadow, my chest heaving under the crushing weight of his pure-blood aura, dragging up memories of the boy I used to watch from afar five years ago.

Before I could catch my breath, Jaye strolled toward my corner clinging to the arm of a tall man. His oily voice slithered through the air. "So this is your exiled sister?"

My head snapped up. The second I saw his face, my blood turned to ice. It was Preston-Brecken Humphrey—the vassal half-blood knight from the recording stone nightmare who had drugged and cornered me in that locked room five years ago.

A sickening grin stretched across his face as his eyes dragged slowly over my damp, plain dress.

My stomach violently twisted. The hall began to spin, and a high-pitched ringing drowned out the music as the old terror seized my throat.

I shoved past a startled servant, hiked up my skirt, and bolted blindly through a small side door leading into the palace gardens.

The wet night wind slapped my face as I stumbled into the unlit courtyard. My boot caught on a mossy stone, and I pitched forward into a wall of solid muscle.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but the thick scent of cedarwood and roaring fire filled my nose, freezing me in place.Grant had clearly slipped out of the hall before the toasts began, retreating to the quiet of the gardens rather than endure the court's flattery.

Grant's hand clamped around my wrist like an iron shackle, hauling me upright before I could hit the ground.

The instant his bare skin touched mine, a jolt of raw electricity shot from his fingertips straight into my chest. A violent tremor shook me down to my bones. I gasped and looked up, crashing straight into a pair of dark gold eyes that had contracted into vertical dragon slits.

The night air around us seemed to catch fire. My skin burned, and my heart hammered wildly against my ribs. I had read the ancient scrolls in the marches—this was the Fated Flame, the one-sided recognition where a Dragon-born's soul locked onto a Dragonless mate.

Grant's throat bobbed hard. The pure gold dragon core beneath his uniform flared with blinding light, illuminating the shock on both our faces.

A low, gravelly growl vibrated from deep in his chest, and he spoke a single word in ancient Dragon Speech. "Mine."

Panic surged through me. I twisted my arm to break free, but his grip tightened until my wrist bones ground together.

He yanked me against his chest, his tall frame caging me in. Lowering his head, his nose brushed along my jaw to the side of my neck, inhaling my scent in deep, ragged breaths. Inside him, I could feel the terrifying roar of his dragon soul demanding total possession, stealing the last bit of air from my lungs.

The side door creaked open, and a group of laughing nobles spilled out onto the garden path.

The wild heat in Grant's golden eyes vanished, replaced by icy disgust. He flung my wrist away as if I were covered in filth and took two long steps back.

"What are you doing out here?" His voice was flat and brutal.

I rubbed my bruised wrist, forcing down the racing pulse in my throat. "It is my stepsister's wedding, Lord Marshal."

He stared down at me, his jaw tight with revulsion. "The First Dragon must have lost his mind to bind a disgraced Dragonless whore to me."

His words felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, killing the strange warmth in my chest.

I lifted my chin and looked straight into his golden eyes. "Rest assured, I consider it a curse too."

From the doorway, Brittnie's sweet voice called out Grant's name.