My pulse was racing in my ears as I watched my parents stare at the sky. The silence between us felt heavy despite the continued chanting and screaming from the crowd. There was a suffocating moment where time seemed to freeze, and then my father’s gaze lowered, his expression hard and cold as our eyes met.

Cringing, I spurred my horse forward, desperate to break up the crowd before any of the gathered citizens could discern why my father’s features had suddenly tightened with harsh disapproval. I stopped only feet from them, dismounting and passing the reins of my weary horse to a servant who hurried forward.

I swallowed, steadying my voice, before I gave a short bow. “Greetings to the lord of Adeyl,” I said solemnly and respectfully.

I was grateful my head was bowed so he wouldn’t see the emotions I knew would be brewing on my face.

My father gave a heavy huff, clapping his large hand against my shoulder and scoffing when I wobbled.

“Welcome home, son,” he boomed, his voice reaching the gathered crowd, unwilling to destroy their happiness even as the tight squeeze of his grip brought my gaze up to his stern, ominous expression. “Come inside; it’s been a long and fruitful expedition. You can rest after you regale me with the tales of your journey.”

It was a command, not an offer, his heavy hand pushing me toward the massive iron doors which led into the stronghold. He strode ahead of me, his storming steps seeming loud as my dread coiled tightly around my heart.

Kat gave me a worried look before she stepped past me, her dragon draping over her shoulders as she followed after our father.

I hesitated a moment before I was able to force my feet to move. Something in me rebelled when my feet passed the doorway, and I balked, turning to face the courtyard. But it was too late. The doors were already pushed inward.

I had only a brief glimpse of sunlight—of freedom—before the doors sealed shut with the heavy, dull thud of a tomb being sealed, and I knew there was no escaping what awaited me.

Though normally the stronghold was full of noise and cheer, my father’s soured mood seemed to pervade the air. The servants we passed whispering between themselves as they shrank back against the walls.

My mother had wilted at his side, still holding tightly to his arm, casting occasional glances back at me; the pity in her jade-green eyes sent cold shivers down my spine. Katrina kept pace at my side, the sharp click of her boots against the black stone echoing in the oppressive quiet, the occasional inquiring rumble from the dragon over her shoulders quickly silenced in soft pats and murmurs.

My shoulders tightened as my father turned away from the grand staircase, which led toward the inhabited areas on the upper floors, and I knew the situation was worse than I had feared as he paced the familiar path to the audience hall.

I frequented the formal room, sitting at his side to see how he handled official affairs, and I had a sick feeling this would be a starkly different occasion.

Approaching another set of heavy steel doors, my father gently shook off my mother’s arm to shove them open himself. The metal squealed as he moved the heavy slabs of iron, the strength of Oraeil’s ‘wild dragon’ on full display as the muscles of his thick arms flexed.

I looked down at my arm, well-toned from swordplay but slender and fragile compared to my father’s muscular build. I swallowed against the bitter taste in the back of my throat as I glanced up at my father’s back, watching him walk into the audience room as I hesitated at the door.

Katrina’s hand brushed mine in passing, following our father into the room. It was my mother who stopped at my side this time, her soft fingers against my palm as she looked up at me.

“What he says may seem harsh,” she said quietly, her gaze flickering to my father for a moment to watch him march to the throne at the far end of the room, “But know that we both love you—we always will, no matter what happens.”

A lump formed in my throat, heat welling in my eyes for a moment as I pressed my lips together. I managed a slight nod, which was enough to set my mother free, her steps soft and soundless as she paced to sit at my father’s side. I pushed my shoulders back, sucking in a sharp breath before I stepped into the room.

Though it was empty now, the audience hall was the public heart of the stronghold, and the glory of our family shone in gilded decorations, rich red tapestries on the walls, and a luxurious rug muffling my steps as I trudged along its length.

I couldn’t look at my father, my gaze drawn instead to the remnants of our ancestors displayed on the walls; the massive horns of their fallen dragons mounted on gold-trimmed plaques, swords gleaming beneath them. We were the guardians of Nuzyn, masters of dragons and ambassadors between humans and beings of magic.

I had always thought my sword would hang with the others one day. It made me sick to know I may have lost that chance when I stepped out of Aredya without a pair.

I shook the morbid thought away as I came to a stop several feet from the thrones on their raised steps; Katrina already waiting, her hands clasped together behind her with her dragon’s tail coiled around her wrists in silent support. I clenched my jaw against the bite of jealousy, tearing my gaze away from her to look up at my father.

His hard stare was on me again, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne as he seemed to weigh his words. The pressure made me tremble, my hands curling to fists, hoping to hide the weakness from him.

When he spoke, his voice was a deep rumble like thunder, warning of an oncoming storm. “As I recall, there were five to be tested at Ardeya this year. Pray tell me, why did your party return with only four dragons?”

Though I thought I had been prepared to answer, running through every possible scenario in my mind during our days of travel, I found I couldn’t get any of the words past my lips.

My father kissed his teeth, his expression hardening as he barked, “Show me your palm, Markus.”

I flinched, feeling my chest move with rapid breaths as my fingernails dug into my skin. Closing my eyes, I slowly raised my hand to my father; it was almost painful to uncurl my fingers, splaying them for him to see my calloused skin unmarked by the silvered rune of a dragon’s bond. My hand trembled in the air, and I knew my father could see it as he let out a heavy grunt.

He sat back on his throne with a deep sigh, his large hand rubbing his forehead as he grumbled under his breath. When he spoke again, his tone was hollow. “What happened?”

When my voice failed me again, Katrina spoke in my place. “The elder dragon allowed us entrance, thanks to Markus, and he was first to step onto the sand. There was not a single dragon that did not take flight for him.”

My father’s hand dropped, surprise nearly hidden by furrowed brows. “And not one of them claimed him as their pair?”

I swallowed, chest heavy, as I finally found my words. “No. The dragons settled to the sand in defeat, but none of them came forward to bond with me. I stayed in the nest while the others stepped forward to meet their pairs, and when I left, it was because the elder banished me. He… he told me I would find no pair there.”

“I can’t refuse the elder’s words,” my father growled, his hands falling into his lap, a gesture of surrender as he looked up to the ceiling; it was painted in murals of dragons in flight, our ancestors astride them as they soared the skies. His jaw clenched, his broad chest moving with a deep breath, before he rumbled, “The dragons have decided, then. You know what this means, I presume.”

I felt my breath catch, my throat stinging as I forced myself to nod. Katrina inhaled sharply at my side, her voice tense as she interjected. “Father, please, you can’t—”

“Our roles are clear,” my father snapped. Kat was shocked into silence as he stood from his throne. His gaze shifted between us, and I wondered if I imagined the regret behind his cold eyes. “Our family is bound to the dragons, and if they have rejected you…”

My father paused, and it seemed we all held our breaths.

His expression creased with anguished disappointment as he said the words I had dreaded since leaving Ardeya: “I cannot allow you to inherit the title. You will be stripped of your authority, relieved of your duties… and Katrina will become the head of the household in your place.”