For a second, she didn’t remember where she was. The warm stone beneath her. The scent of ash and smoke. The glow of crystals above. And then it hit her—this wasn’t a dream.

She was in the Dragon King’s lair. And she was still alive.

She sat up slowly. Her white dress from the offering ceremony was wrinkled and ash-stained. Her hair was tangled. Her throat was dry.

There was no bed, no blanket, no food. Just stone and heat.

So… this was what surviving meant.

She stood and looked around. The cave stretched endlessly in every direction. Pools of molten gold bubbled along the edges, lighting up the walls like lanterns. Strange glowing plants grew out of cracks in the stone, swaying like they were breathing.

She didn’t see him.

Good.

That gave her time to think.

What was she supposed to do now? Stay here forever? Wait until he changed his mind and burned her to ash?

Her stomach growled.

“Hungry?” came a voice from behind her.

Eira spun around.

The Dragon King was there—standing just a few feet away, silent as a shadow. He wasn’t wearing a crown or armor, just a dark robe that flowed like smoke.

She nodded carefully. “Yes.”

He studied her face for a moment, then snapped his fingers.

A deep rumble came from one of the far tunnels. A few seconds later, something slithered out. Eira’s breath caught. It looked like a beast—a mix of lizard and wolf—but it carried a silver tray in its jaws. It padded over to her, dropped it gently, then vanished back into the shadows.

She blinked. “What was that?”

“Harik,” the king said. “One of my keepers.”

“Is he going to eat me later?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Not unless I ask him to.”

She gave him a look.

He chuckled softly. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

Eira sat on the warm stone and pulled the tray closer. It held a bowl of glowing fruit, some kind of spicy bread, and cool water in a glass cup made of crystal.

She didn’t ask where it came from.

She just ate.

He watched her in silence.

When she finished, she looked up at him. “So… now what?”

“Now, you learn the rules.”

She stiffened. “There are rules?”

“There are always rules,” he said. “Especially here.”

He sat on a low step near his throne and motioned for her to come closer. She stayed where she was.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “Rule one: You do not try to escape.”

“Where would I even go?”

“Some try to climb down the cliffs. Others run into the tunnels. None return.”

She swallowed hard.

“Rule two: Don’t touch anything glowing unless I say so. Some of the crystals are alive. Some bite.”

“Noted.”

“Rule three: If you hear singing—cover your ears and run.”

“Wait. Singing?”

He met her gaze, serious now. “Not everything in this mountain belongs to me.”

A chill ran down her spine.

He stood again and walked over to her. She could feel the heat coming off him like sunlight.

“I am not your jailer, Eira. You are free to move. But remember: freedom doesn’t mean safety.”

She held her breath as he passed her, leaving behind only the scent of smoke and something older, like earth after a storm.

Then he paused.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he added. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

Her heart skipped. “Excuse me?”

He turned slightly, the glow of the lava catching his smile. “It’s happened before.”

Then he disappeared into the tunnels.

---

For days, Eira stayed near the Hollow.

She explored the safe paths, memorized the warmest corners, and watched the molten rivers flow. The Dragon King was always nearby, sometimes reading old scrolls, sometimes talking to creatures she didn’t recognize.

He never told her his real name. She only knew him as “King.”

He spoke to her often. Not like a ruler. Not even like a captor.

Like someone curious.

“What was your life like?” he asked once, lounging on the throne, tail flicking lazily behind him.

“Quiet,” she replied. “I helped my mother sew until she died. Then I cleaned for others. Ate when I could. Waited to turn eighteen so I could leave Halden.”

“You never got to.”

She looked at him. “You think I should be grateful?”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “No. But I do think you’re lucky.”

“Lucky to be taken?”

“Lucky to survive.”

That shut her up.

---

At night, Eira dreamed of fire. Sometimes she saw her village burning, people screaming. Other times, she stood in the sky with wings, watching the world below crumble.

She’d wake up shaking.

One night, she found herself wandering toward the river of gold.

The water wasn’t really water—it was melted stone, flowing smooth and slow. And yet, there was something beautiful about it.

She stared into the glowing liquid, mesmerized.

Then she heard it.

A soft, humming song. Sweet. Familiar. Like something from her childhood.

Eira turned toward the sound, feet moving without thinking.

She didn’t even realize she was walking into one of the dark tunnels until she felt a hand grab her wrist.

“Eira.”

The Dragon King stood behind her, eyes glowing brighter than ever.

The song vanished instantly.

“You heard it,” he said.

She nodded, heart racing. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“You would’ve been lost.”

“I wasn’t going far.”

“You don’t understand,” he growled, voice sharper now. “That song is not a voice you follow. It belongs to something ancient. Something that hates me—and everything I protect.”

She looked up at him. “You protect me?”

His expression changed—just for a moment. A flicker of something like... guilt.

Then it was gone.

“I protect the mountain,” he said. “For now, that includes you.”

He let go of her wrist.

She didn’t know why, but she wished he hadn’t.