The trip back to Oraeil, the city ruled by my father under our family name, was a cold and difficult journey far different than the joyous expedition we had first set out on. We had left the capital of Adeyl, the land that stood as neutral territory between the humans of Elais and the magical beings of Nuzyn, in a good mood.

It was supposed to be my first step to truly becoming the lord, allowing my father to step down as I took his place to maintain peace between the realms. Hopes had been high; the knights and guards sent with us full of cheer at the prospect of escorting their young lord to the momentous occasion of pairing with his dragon.

Those same men now watched me with disappointment and pity in their gaze, their loaded silence grating on my nerves as I fought the urge to fall to the back of the procession. The burden on my shoulders grew as the city walls came into sight, the black stone seeming to rise from the shadows to loom over my head.

The knot in my throat thickened as I gripped my horse’s reins tightly. The beast shied as he responded to my tension. We balked together, the guards slowing to a stop around us.

My skin crawled under their eyes, my breath quickening as my sense of dread churned my stomach. The days of travel to Oraeil had felt like a dream—a nightmare—which I now had to face head-on.

Bowing my head, I looked down at my trembling hands and pulled my lower lip between my teeth, tasting blood as I tried to catch my breath to pull myself together before my father could descend to see the weakness written across my face.

“Markus,” a soft voice called to me, and I jolted as a pale hand touched my arm. My gaze jumped up to my sister’s face, her leg brushing mine as she brought her horse alongside me. There was no suffocating pity in her jade gaze, only a soft, pained understanding as she felt how I shivered against her touch.

Swallowing, I found my voice, though it was hoarse and grating against my throat. “How am I supposed to face him?” The reins bit into my palms, chafing the skin as I felt my head begin to spin with the pressure.

Katrina shifted closer, leaning against me with her head on my shoulder. I could smell dust and sweat in her hair from the journey, grit to the soft waves brushing against my face as she wrapped an arm around my waist.

I sucked in a shuddering breath, closing my eyes as I soaked in the comfort of her embrace. In all the hardest moments of facing my father’s expectations, she had always been my only solace, the sister who understood me even when I wasn’t sure of myself.

“It’s not your fault,” she murmured, her hand pressing against my side as she squeezed me tightly. “We all saw how the dragons took flight for you. That will mean something, it has to.”

There was a hint of hopeful fragility to her voice, sending a chill down my spine. Kat was doing her best to reassure me, but I knew her well enough to see that she held the same terrifying doubt I did.

I pulled in another breath, my heart still racing as I gently pushed my sister back to sit properly astride her horse. My gaze fell on her wide, glistening eyes. I couldn’t find it in myself to deny her words.

A forced smile pulled at my lips as I nodded. “You’re right. You always are,” I said, the weight in my chest easing slightly as I coaxed a faint smirk from her.

Huffing, I focused on loosening my grip on the reins, trying to release the tension in my body to help ease my anxious mount. I patted his neck, feeling the hard muscle under my palm; my horse shook its head with a chuff of air, its mane a cloud of ebony before it settled back in glossy strands.

“We’re okay,” I murmured under my breath, rubbing against the beast’s coarse fur before I straightened my back and redirected my gaze to the ominous castle walls.

“Ready?” Kat asked softly enough that it would only reach my ears.

I gave a stern nod and then raised my voice loud enough to carry over the guards, who had politely shifted away to give us privacy. “Forward to the gates. Let’s go home!”

The words provoked a quiet cheer from the men who had spent nearly a week traveling with us. They were eager to return to their families and spend a night in a soft, warm bed rather than on the hard ground.

I flicked the reins, my thighs squeezing to urge my horse forward; he gave a gentle whinny before breaking into a trot, plodding down the dirt road to the massive front gates. My spine was like an iron rod, keeping me stiff in my saddle as I knew we would soon be spotted by the guards on top of the walls.

It was obvious when the guards recognized us. A cheer went up, echoing along the ramparts as Sir Demar’s massive black dragon circled overhead, tailed by two small, slim green dragons nipping at each other’s tails.

I felt bile in the back of my throat as I looked up at them, trying to bury my jealousy, knowing their pairs would feel the dragons’ joy as they soared in the sky.

A soft snarl at my side brought my gaze to Katrina’s dragon, the golden beast sitting on the haunches of her horse. Its front clawed feet on my sister’s shoulder as the dragon shoved its nose into her mane of curls.

Kat’s soft chuckle warmed my heart, and I couldn’t find any resentment for her happiness as she scratched the dragon’s scaled nostrils gently, its eyes slowly blinking in silent contentment.

I dragged my gaze away from her as I heard the heavy metallic clanks and thuds of the gate being drawn up. My heart skipped a beat as we crossed the bridge over the river that circled the city, the heavy rush of water akin to my pulse roaring in my ears.

The gate came to a stop overhead as we passed through the arched stone, my skin prickling at the weight of new stares as we entered the city.

My stomach dropped as I realized my father had prepared the city for our return. There seemed to be a festival in motion, bright banners waving overhead and the smell of freshly cooked meat and bread filling the air. People lined the streets, dressed in their best clothing, faces shining with joy and pride as they looked up at us—at me.

“He’s back… the young lord is back!” I heard the whispers turn into a roar, clapping and cheering, making it hard to hear the chant of my name. My people were congratulating me, and I could never have imagined how that sound could be like poison; blinking rapidly against the prickling burn at the back of my eyes as I tried to keep a straight face.

It took every ounce of my strength to smile for them, slowly raising a hand to wave in welcome and gratitude. It seemed to give the crowd a new fervor, and I cringed as they closed in behind the procession of guards to follow us toward the stronghold at the center of the city.

The streets were so crowded we could hardly make it through by the time we got to the sturdy walls that surrounded my home, the small castle which was the center of Oreil, banners flying and tapestries hung over the defensive walls in rich red fabrics, our family crest embroidered in glittering gold.

A chill ran through me as I gazed at the twin dragons, a symbol that had been used to praise my sister and me as we grew up. It now seemed like a glaring reminder of my defeat. My sister had returned triumphant, and I had come back a failure.

The sound of the large, solid metal gates being drawn inward like massive doors—the grating, screeching scrape of metal over stone—set my teeth on edge. I wasn’t sure if it was the noise that struck the crowd into silence or the overwhelming presence of my father as he stepped out to welcome us.

It was obvious where my sister and I got our looks, the bloodline of our family running strong in our vibrant red hair. My father kept his cut short, his strong features sharp and imposing beneath the sweep of curls across his broad forehead.

He was tall and thickly built, his muscles still prominent despite his age, and the striking chill of his dark brown eyes had never dimmed. He looked at me for a brief moment before his gaze moved to my sister, and a warm smile broke his solemn expression as he saw the golden dragon coiled over her.

I dragged my gaze away from him to look at my mother at his side, not wanting to see my father’s expression when he realized there were only four dragons with us. Her blonde hair was like wheat, falling around her delicate face in soft ringlets; her fingers were delicate where they lay over my father’s arm, her figure slim and fragile under the rich fabric and tight corset of her elegant dress. Her gaze met mine, and I saw concern immediately bloom in the deep green eyes my sister had inherited from her.

As one, she and my father looked up to the sky, and I watched disappointment and anger suffuse my parents’ expressions. I knew the bright future they had expected of me would be shattered in that brief moment, and the world fell out from under my feet again as I prepared to face their wrath.