Chapter 0003

Visenya was jolted awake by high-pitched screams echoing from Synora’s bedchamber. Her bed shook vigorously, and the chandelier swung back and forth, while dust particles fell from the ceiling, filling the air around her. Shock waves reverberated through the castle walls with alarming intensity. Visenya struggled to steady herself as she made her way to the door, dodging flying books and shattered pictures strewn across the ground.

She finally made it out and rushed to Synora, struggling to maintain her balance and avoid being knocked off her feet. Synora’s terrorized screams only grew louder, and all Visenya could think about was reaching her little sister as quickly as possible. “I’m coming, Synora!”

Visenya flung open the door and found Synora screaming under her covers, her face streaked with tears. Without hesitation, she lifted Synora into her arms and sought shelter under the small table in the corner of the room.

They held each other tightly, Visenya trying her best to calm her frightened sister. “Shhhh… It’ll be over soon,” she reassured, gently stroking the back of her sister’s head. After a few tense moments, the tremors began to subside, until finally, all was calm again.

“Where’s my baby!” Sarai’s voice echoed through the room as she rushed in.

“Mommy!” Synora cried out, rushing into her mother’s arms.

Caspian hurried into the room, his eyes quickly scanning the scene. “Is everyone alright?!”

“We’re fine,” Visenya replied, pulling herself to her feet. “Caspian, gather the guards and ensure we have no fatalities. Those needing medical attention, see them to the nearest facility immediately.”

“On it,” Caspian nodded, already moving to fulfill Visenya’s orders.

Visenya checked Synora over carefully, relieved to find her unharmed. Her mother, on the other hand, had a bloody gash on her forehead. “Mother, your head!”

“It’s nothing… just a small cut,” Sarai waved off, tending to Synora.

“It looks deep. Let me take a lo…”

“It’s fine,” Sarai interrupted firmly, lying Synora back down. “I’ll shift as soon as I get her back to sleep… I promise.” Gaining a compromising nod from Visenya.

“Are you alright?” Sarai’s concern was evident as she looked Visenya over.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Visenya assured. “I might have slept right through the earthquake if I wasn’t awakened by her screams.”

“Thank you for coming straight to her,” Sarai said gratefully.

“Of course, mother… she’s my sister.”

“Thank you, Vee,” Synora’s muffled voice expressed her gratitude from her mother’s embrace.

“Don’t mention it, little wolf.” Visenya’s tone brimming with affection. She brushed the dust from her hair and headed towards the door. “I need to make sure everyone is alright. You two will be okay?”

“Yes, love. Go see to your Alpha duties,” Sarai confirmed.

With a nod, Visenya scurried off to do just that. She had never in her life experienced such a massive earthquake before and prayed to the Moon Goddess that nobody was seriously injured.

———

Deep beneath the rubble of what was once the Dragon’s fortress, miles below the surface, a young dragon stirred from his induced slumber. The earth trembled violently around him, causing the rocks that entombed him to shift. After a decade of dormancy, fresh air finally reached his lungs, dispelling the black zaphynite that had kept him comatose.

His large reptilian eyes blinked open and in one swift motion, he emerged from the debris. Upon reaching the earth's surface, he transformed into his human form and collapsed to the ground. Despite his liberation, he remained weakened by the effects of the black zaphynite, an ancient mineral known to be fatal to dragons, their sole vulnerability, and was believed to have been eradicated centuries ago.

His memories started to return slowly; the last thing he recalled was a loud, ground shaking blast above his underground lair. He brought himself to his feet, taking in his surroundings with absolute bewilderment. What once was the Dragon Empire lay in complete ruins.

A rush of anxiety overcame him as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. Was this all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t wake up from? He walked among the ruins, searching for anyone else who might have survived the blast. His search proved futile, and the silence was deafening, until he heard footsteps behind him.

“You there, stop!” He called out, spotting a man dart behind a leaning building.

The man came to an abrupt halt, pivoting to face the dragon. “I was just searching for some animals to feed from, I swear!”

Surveying the dragon closely, he noted the tribal marking across his chest—a symbol that no one’s seen for years, ten years to be exact. “Wait a minute, you’re not a Lycan. You’re a… no, that’s impossible… it can’t be.”

"I'm a dragon," he growled, his voice dripping with rage, "and I demand you tell me what the hell happened here!"

The man’s eyes widened in wonder. He was truly standing in the presence of a dragon, and not just any dragon, but a Dragon Lord by the look of his marking. The last living dragon in the world, and he looked to him as a savior.

He rushed over, throwing himself at the dragon's feet. "Dragon Lord! My savior! I vow to be your faithful servant from this day forward! Anything you need, anything you want, I will die trying to obtain it for you. Just please… save us from the wicked Lycan Queen!"

The dragon cast a disdainful glance at the groveling vampire. "Get up," he commanded and the vampire scrambled to his feet, eager to comply with any order.

“You’re vampire,” the Dragon observed, more statement than question.

“Yes, Dragon Lord,” the vampire confirmed.

“Where have all the dragons gone?”

The vampire was taken aback by the question. “You're the only one alive, My Lord.”

“What do you mean I’m the only one?!” The Dragon’s voice boomed, startling the vampire.

“The blast… it… it killed everyone in the empire. I’m still trying to understand how you managed to survive,” the vampire explained.

The Dragon’s gaze shifted back to the rubble from which he emerged, his expression filled with despair. Consumed by grief, he staggered back to the pile of rocks and sank to his knees. Frantically, he began digging through the debris, a sense of madness overwhelming him. And then, there it was: fragments of a dragon’s skull, one after another, each piece a devastating reminder of the tragedy that befell his kind. Overwhelmed by sorrow, he couldn’t contain his anguish, letting out a gut-wrenching cry that echoed through the desolate landscape.

"I don’t understand... it takes more than just some bombs to take out an entire empire of dragons,” the Dragon mused, his tone tinged with disbelief.

“Not if the bombs are laced with black zaphynite,” the vampire disclosed, his voice grave.

The dragon's eyes blazed with fury as he turned his gaze back to the vampire. “Who did this?”

“The Lycan King, Ezra,” the vampire replied solemnly.

“Where is he now?! I’ll tear him apart with my bare hands!” The Dragon roared, his need for vengeance palpable.

“He’s dead, Dragon Lord. It was a suicide mission. Him and his men came with bombs strapped to their bodies. He tricked the Emperor Dragon into believing he was coming to make a truce, and blew this place to pieces.”

A vein pulsed on the Dragon’s forehead as fury coursed through his blood. His people had been massacred at the hands of a lesser kind, and he burned with a desire for revenge.

“His mate still rules? You asked me to save you from her?”

“No, Dragon Lord. Not his mate. His daughter now occupies the throne.”

The Dragon vividly recalled the Lycan King’s daughter. Their last encounter had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You beg at my feet to save you from a sixteen-year-old she-wolf?”

The vampire glanced at the Dragon, realizing that he was unaware of the time gap since the massacre of his kind. “She is not sixteen, My Lord... She is twenty-six years old.”

“Twenty-six?! Visenya?! Princess Visenya?! She’s sixteen years old!”

“No,” the vampire gulped. “She is not a princess anymore. She is now the Lycan Queen, and she has been for the last ten years. She was sixteen when she ascended the throne, when her father slaughtered your kind... when he slaughtered your family.”

The Dragon was reeling from the vampire’s revelation, stunned that a decade had passed since the tragic event. The depth of his voice, the beard covering his face—signs of the years that had been stolen from him. At eighteen, he had never been able to grow a beard of this magnitude. He was no longer a teenaged boy; he was now twenty-eight years old and had lost everything.

“Who rules alongside her?” The Dragon Lord asked through clenched teeth.

“Uhm…Well, she has a second-in-command…”

“A King?! Does she have a King?!” The Dragon Lord’s voice echoed with urgency.

“No, Dragon Lord. She has not taken a King. In fact, it’s been rumored that she is mateless.”

The tension in the Dragon’s jaw soften at that information. He hated himself for finding relief in the fact that she had not married another because he had plans to make Visenya’s life a living hell. Blinded by his immense anger and pain, he swore that someone would pay for her father’s atrocities. If he was angry with her before, it had reached a whole new level now, especially since he blamed her for all that had happened to his kind.

"Does the Vampire King still reside in his castle?" The Dragon pressed.

"No, it’s been abandoned for years now, since we've all been forced to migrate for food."

"Good, I shall claim that estate as my own. I need to eat and replenish my strength before paying… the Lycan Queen a visit." He said those last words with a bite in his tone.

The vampire nodded in satisfaction, relishing the thought of the Lycan Queen facing retribution for their suffering.

"Please take me with you, Dragon Lord," the vampire implored.

The dragon scrutinized him for a moment. The vampire appeared filthy and rather sickly. Nevertheless, he decided to bring him along, realizing he could fill him in on everything he’d missed in the last ten years.

“I’ll carry you in my claw. Only the privileged ride on my back.”

“Thank you, Dragon Lord. By the way, what is your name?”

“Lucian, but you will address me as Dragon Lord.”

The vampire gazed at Lucian in awe. “Dragon Lord Lucian, you are the eldest offspring of the Emperor Dragon.”

“I was,” Lucian replied curtly.

“Well, I’m honored to make your acquaintance. Would you like to know my name?”

“No.”

In the blink of an eye, Lucian shifted into his dragon form and snatched the vampire up in one of his claws, then flew off into the night. On his way to the abandoned vampire kingdom, he paused to feast on a bison, feeling stronger by the minute. Eventually, he arrived at King Lazarus’ castle with his travel companion, who had provided him with a history lesson of the past ten years.

The vampire explained how his kingdom had been attacked by an army of Lycans led by a seventeen-year-old Visenya. She battled King Lazarus head-on, nearly killing him until he begged for mercy. She freed all their human slaves and outlawed slavery and the consumption of human blood.

A treaty was signed that night, guaranteeing sustainable food resources for vampires. However, Visenya allegedly hadn't upheld her end of the bargain. Vampires had been starving for nearly a decade, and sentenced to death for a mere moment of weakness.

Lucian had to admit that Visenya’s siege and combat strategy were rather impressive. It was also clear to him that the entire vampire race despised her, and he would use this to his advantage to amplify her suffering.