Why me?

He never said she was chosen. The temple never explained. No vision, no prophecy. Just—you’re the offering. Go.

Her lips pressed into a line.

A soft rustle interrupted her thoughts. The little dragonling—small and smoky gray with glimmering teal eyes—bounded out of the shadows and curled beside her. It gave a soft rumble, tail flicking like a content cat.

“You again,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “Why do you like me so much?”

The creature nudged her hand until she gave in and scratched between its horn nubs. Its body was warm, oddly comforting.

Behind her, she sensed movement. She didn’t need to turn to know it was Harik.

The dragon in his humanoid form stepped into the balcony’s archway with that same silent grace. He didn't speak. He never did unless it was truly needed.

“You’re always watching,” she said, not looking back. “Do you even sleep?”

Harik tilted his head. She caught the motion from the corner of her eye.

“I keep wondering why I’m here,” she continued. “He said he never wanted this pact. Then why didn’t he turn me away?”

No reply.

The dragonling gave a snort, then rolled onto its back, legs twitching like it was dreaming. Eira smiled faintly but the ache in her chest didn’t go away.

She rose to her feet, brushing dust from her skirt. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to run off again.”

As she turned, she nearly bumped into him.

He was there—he—as if summoned by her unrest. Towering and still, face unreadable. The Dragon King.

“You’re restless,” he said.

“You’re observant,” she shot back.

His eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in thought. “You’ve been thinking.”

“I’m not just some quiet little bird, you know. I do that sometimes.”

His lips curled slightly, like a shadow of amusement.

She stepped past him, walking slowly down the corridor. He fell into step beside her.

“I want to know,” she said, not looking at him. “Why me? Why now? What made them choose Eira, the girl who likes wind-chimes and gets dizzy during prayer?”

Silence.

“And don’t give me that cryptic ‘you’ll know when it’s time’ line. I want an answer.”

They stopped.

He looked at her then, golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim torchlight. “I don’t know why you were chosen. I only know they keep sending someone… and this time, it was you.”

His honesty startled her more than any mystery.

“But you didn’t send me back.”

“No,” he said, quieter now. “I didn’t.”

She stepped closer. “Why?”

His gaze dropped to her lips for just a second—barely noticeable, but she caught it. Her pulse jumped.

He didn’t touch her. Not yet. But the space between them thinned like spun glass.

“Because you… disrupted something I didn’t realize I had kept buried,” he said.

Her breath hitched.

“Am I disrupting you now?”

His lips parted slightly. “Always.”

For a moment, they hovered there—close enough to breathe each other in, hearts matching rhythm, heat between them rising like a tide.

Then Harik cleared his throat softly in the distance. Eira jolted, stepping back, cheeks flushed.

She turned sharply, heading toward the inner chamber.

The dragonling trailed behind her, tail swishing as if entertained by the whole scene.

Behind her, the Dragon King didn’t follow.