Darius stood, Imogen now safely in his arms, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed coldly on Oliver.

  The elder smoothed his cloak calmly, his sharp, weathered gaze flicking once toward the now limp Imogen, passed out from exertion, before returning to the Dragon King.

  “She’s stronger than I expected,” Oliver said quietly, his voice edged with something close to admiration. “For someone so new to her magic… She's remarkable. Definitely Lady Cordelia’s daughter. Your mother would have been proud, Darius, ecstatic. There is no doubt that you are mates.” The elder's mouth tugged into a faint, wry smile. “Together, you will be an unstoppable force.”

  He stepped forward slowly, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the room. His eyes narrowed, his voice low and cold, “If you ever strike my queen like that again in my presence…”

  Oliver raised one eyebrow slightly, the faintest flicker of dry amusement in his sharp eyes.

  “…you will lose the hand you raised before you even finish the spell,” Darius finished, his voice dropping to a quiet, razor-edged growl.

  The room pulsed with the weight of the Dragon King’s presence, the commanding ruler his people feared and respected.

  Oliver inclined his head slightly, his expression calm but respectful. “I meant no disrespect, Your Majesty. She needed to break her limits.”

  Darius’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice cutting sharp as steel. “She will never need you to break her like that again.”

  For a long moment, they stared at each other, king and elder, power and wisdom, two forces long tied by loyalty. Oliver’s eyes softened just slightly, the acknowledgment there not just of a subject to his king, but almost that of an old father figure quietly letting go.

  Darius let the silence stretch, then turned sharply on his heel, walking to the door.

  Oliver watched quietly from the threshold, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as he turned away. “Protect her well, my king,” he murmured under his breath. “She will change everything for the better.” His voice softened, the barest hint of affection glinting in his tone.

  Darius stepped out of Elder Oliver’s house with Imogen in his arms, her golden sparks finally dimming to faint glimmers along her skin. The moment the door swung open, he froze.

  A crowd.

  Dozens of dragon villagers, men, women, elders, even a few children had gathered outside, drawn by the violent flare of magic none of them were used to. Their scales shimmered with anxious energy, eyes wide, wings half-flared in instinctive readiness.

  The instant they saw Darius, the entire crowd went silent.

  Then like a wave rolling through the village dragons began dropping to one knee, bowing their heads in reverence. Others didn’t bow but instead let out excited, trembling cheers. A few shouted blessings. Some simply stared at Imogen with awe, whispering about her golden aura and the power that shook the village.

  Darius held Imogen closer, instinctively protective, his jaw tightening. “Easy,” he murmured to her even though she was barely conscious. “Ignore them.”

  Imogen stirred slightly, cheek sliding against his chest, her breath warm on his skin.

  Darius began to walk. Slowly, deliberately and with every step, the crowd parted for him.

  Some bowed lower. Others reached out as if wanting to touch the air where Imogen’s magic lingered. And though he kept his expression cold and regal, the cheers scraped something raw inside him because it had been a long time since his people celebrated anything.

  Across the road, under the wide shade of a tree, Axel straightened sharply, his green eyes widening in alarm the moment he spotted them.

  He shot forward, quick strides carrying him to meet Darius. “Is she okay? What happened?” Axel’s voice was tight, concerned. “I heard… a lot of yelling on your part, but I couldn’t hear anything else. Then there was this massive surge of magic and for a second, it was like…” He hesitated, eyes flicking wide. “Like a beautiful chime, a pulse of aura I could feel the magic in the air. Like I gained strength just by being near it.”

  Darius glared at Axel for a long, tense moment, the hard lines of his face still edged with residual fury not at Axel, but at himself, at Oliver, at the helpless rage of watching his mate in pain and being unable to intervene.

  He let out a slow, controlled breath and looked down at Imogen. She lay limp against his chest, her hair tangled, her clothes still streaked with dry mud and blood from the battlefield, faint wound marks visible where her body hadn’t healed as swiftly as his would.

  “Oliver thought it would be wise,” Darius said coldly, his voice laced with quiet venom, “to push her past her limits and force her power to surface.” His eyes flicked sharply back to Axel. “So yes. That melody you felt, that surge of magic, was Imogen. Shattering Oliver’s magic.”

  Axel’s mouth fell slightly open, his sharp features slackening in stunned silence. He stared between Darius and Imogen, processing the weight of what his king had just said.

  For the first time, Axel truly understood this untrained, exhausted girl in the king’s arms had just proven herself something far more than they’d expected.

  And standing there, the Dragon King cradling his new found queen in the full light of day, Axel saw it: They were no longer just fighting for survival.

  They were standing at the beginning of a legend. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the quiet village.

  The path to the castle wound upward, stone steps cracked and half-swallowed by moss and creeping ivy. The structure itself rose like a weathered giant: once proud, once full of life… now a half-falling-apart relic still wearing its charm like an old smile.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Sunlight streamed through broken arches. Vines climbed the outer walls like green scars. A chunk of the eastern tower had collapsed years ago, leaving an open wound that looked out across the valley. Even so, it remained hauntingly beautiful.

  This was the home where a happy family once lived. Where laughter once echoed. Where Axel’s footsteps used to race down the halls, and now Darius was bringing someone who wasn’t Axel inside.

  He climbed the moss-covered stairs slowly, adjusting Imogen’s weight so she wouldn’t jostle. Her breath tickled against his collarbone, warm and steady. He nudged the enormous wooden door open with his shoulder, careful not to wake her. The hinges groaned like a long-sleeping beast stirring.

  The hollow hall swallowed them in silence.

  Dusty tapestries fluttered faintly in the draft. Ancient torches glowed softly with dragonfire. Their footsteps echoed his boots, her soft breaths the only sounds in the empty castle as he carried her through corridors that remembered joy far better than he did.

  Finally, he reached his chambers.

  He pushed the door open gently and made his way to the bed, trying not to wake her. As he is setting her down she pats his chest lazily, “I like it” with a small grin. She was reaching up, her fingers brushing along his jawline, lightly tracing the edge of stubble there. Nodding with approval as her smile turned to a slight frown.

  “It's not fair.” She mumbled to herself, half asleep.

  Darius sucked in a slow, startled breath, his eyes flicking wide. For a heartbeat he forgot how to breathe.

  “Imogen…” Darius said, trying to hold back the flood of emotions he was feeling. “You’re delirious,” he muttered but the faint flush creeping up his neck betrayed him completely.

  “Gods… what am I going to do with you…” he murmured as he pulled up the blankets, brushing her hair from her face. “Rest, little mate,” he whispered, fighting the urge to kiss her forehead. “We’ll start tomorrow, you’ve done enough today,” and turned to leave her resting in his bed.

  Back outside Darius’s home, the two men stood in low conversation, their voices muted but heavy with the weight of what lay ahead.

  Axel let out a breath, his eyes glinting faintly as they flicked toward the soft candle glow behind the window.

  “She’s not just any queen, Darius. She’s… something else. She’ll shake this world apart once she fully comes into her own.”

  Darius’s jaw tightened faintly. “And the world will try to shake her back.”

  Axel went quiet for a moment, studying his friend carefully “do we know if Arthur survived the battle?”

  Darius’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling slightly into fists at his sides. “Reports say he’s alive. Barely.”

  Axel gave a humorless laugh. “And his nephew?”

  Darius exhaled sharply through his nose, his face hardening. “He watched the girl he wanted, the girl he believed was his, not only choose another but destroy his uncle’s soldiers, his allies, his pride. He’ll want vengeance, Axel. And not just on me.” His eyes flicked coldly toward the window. “On her.”

  Axel muttered a quiet curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Darius. We need to strengthen the perimeter. Fortify the village. If either of them comes sniffing after her-”

  “They will,” Darius cut in quietly. His voice dropped, cold and sure. “Arthur will want to wipe out the last Dragonsinger. His nephew will want to kill the woman who rejected him, the woman who will soon rise above him in every way.”

  Axel’s eyes darkened. “We won’t let them near her.”

  Darius’s mouth pulled into a grim line. “No, we won’t. But we’ll need more than walls and warriors.” He glanced back toward the window, his gaze softening faintly. “She’ll need to be ready. Stronger. Sharper.” His eyes hardened again. “Because next time… they won’t come with offers or pretty words. They’ll come to kill her.”

  Axel gave a slow, grim nod. “Then we’d better make sure when they come, they realize they’ve walked into a dragon’s den.”

  Darius let out a slow, steadying breath. “Good, because…I’ll be waiting.” The air between them hung heavy, thick with tension as the last light of day faded.

  Axel let out a long, slow breath, his eyes flicking to the softly glowing window where Imogen lay asleep inside. “Darius… this isn’t just about revenge, is it?”

  Darius’s eyes flashed coldly in the dimming light. “No. It’s much more.”

  Axel frowned. “Because she’s the last Dragonsinger?”

  Darius nodded once, his voice dark and low. “They won’t just want her dead because she embarrassed them or because she destroyed Arthur’s soldiers. They’ll want her gone because she’s the key to something they thought was lost forever.”

  Axel straightened slightly, his brows drawing tight. “You mean… the dragon kin regaining their strength?”

  Darius’s jaw tightened, his arms folding across his chest. “Not just strength, Axel. With her, the dragon kin’s healing will return faster and deeper. Quicker than any human’s. Wounds that would kill mortal soldiers will close overnight. And…” His voice dropped even lower, eyes narrowing.

  “Eventually, with her magic fully awakened, the dragon kin will regain the near-immortality we once had.”

  Axel’s breath caught, his eyes widening.

  “Immortality?”

  Darius gave a sharp, grim nod.

  “The ancients bonded to their Dragonsingers not just for power or love but because their magic sustained them. Lifespans stretched centuries longer. Strength, magic, healing everything sharpened and endured. With her, the dragon kin wouldn’t just survive.” He exhaled slowly, eyes gleaming. “We would rise again. Stronger. Eternal.”

  Axel let out a low, incredulous whistle, running a hand through his tousled hair. “No wonder Arthur and his son won’t stop. If they let her live… you’re not just rebuilding a broken people. You’re reforging an empire that can’t die.”

  Darius’s mouth twisted into a hard line. “Exactly.” His eyes flicked toward the window again, softening faintly. “She doesn’t even know the full weight of what she carries yet. But the moment they realize she’s awakened, they’ll come for her not just to kill a rival, but to strangle the future before it can breathe.”

  Axel stepped closer, his expression turning grim. “Then we’ll hold the line, Darius. You, me, every kin we have left. We’ll hold them off as long as it takes.”

  Darius’s jaw flexed, his voice dropping into a quiet, cold promise. “I’ll burn kingdoms to ash before I let them touch her.” Darius exhaled slowly, forcing himself to pull back from the simmering anger rising in his chest. His jaw flexed, his mind sharpening back into cold, focused command.

  “I need you to gather the top warriors,” he said, his voice low and clipped. “Preferably a woman.”

  Axel raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

  “Imogen will need a lady-in-waiting,” Darius continued, his tone brooking no argument. “Someone strong and can help her adjust to everything she’s stepping into. I want this done immediately. Have them meet me at the training grounds.”

  Axel gave a small, sharp nod. “Understood.”

  “And Axel,” Darius added, glancing sidelong at his second, “I don’t want Imogen walking around alone. But I also don’t want her to feel like we’re always breathing down her neck. She needs space. A chance to find her own footing here, to make this place hers, not just mine.”

  Axel’s mouth twitched faintly, a flicker of respect glinting in his eyes. “You’re a better king with her beside you, you know.”

  Darius shot him a sharp look, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Go,” he ordered, and Axel gave a short, mock salute before turning and disappearing into the dusk