So when the last bit of sunlight slipped behind the mountains, Eira stood at the edge of the cliff with her hands tied in silver thread, waiting.

Below, her village of Halden was quiet—too quiet. The fields were empty, the market stalls abandoned. Everyone had gone home early, hiding behind their shutters like children during a storm.

No one wanted to watch the sacrifice.

Eira didn’t blame them.

She was the sacrifice this year.

The air was cold, but her palms were sweaty. She kept her chin high as the priest stepped forward. His name was Malric, and he was older than the hills. His white robes dragged behind him as he raised a black stone high above her head.

“With this offering,” he said, voice echoing through the valley, “We honor the ancient pact. May the Dragon King spare us again.”

Eira flinched as he pressed the warm stone to her forehead. It left no mark she could see, but it pulsed with heat—like fire beneath her skin.

Then the priest stepped back. No guards held her. No chains. Just silence.

She was expected to walk into the mountains on her own.

And she did.

---

The path to the dragon’s lair was steep and wild, full of sharp rocks and whispering winds. Eira had made this journey before as a child, playing near the woods. But tonight was different. Every tree looked like a shadow. Every sound made her heart jump.

As she climbed, the scent of smoke grew stronger. The higher she went, the warmer the air became.

By the time she reached the mountain’s heart, sweat clung to her neck.

The entrance was strange. Two giant stones rose from the ground, glowing with fiery red symbols. Between them, a curtain of flickering flames blocked the way.

Eira stared at it. This was it. One step through, and there was no turning back.

She took a deep breath and walked straight into the fire.

It didn’t burn.

It felt warm—like stepping into a summer wind. The flames shimmered around her, then vanished.

And there she was.

Inside the Dragon King’s domain.

---

The cavern was huge. Glowing rivers of lava flowed along the walls, and strange crystals sparkled like stars overhead. The heat wrapped around her like a heavy cloak.

And in the middle of it all sat a throne—black, tall, and twisted like something pulled from a dream.

On that throne sat him.

The Dragon King.

He didn’t look like a monster. Not really. He looked almost human. His skin was pale gold, like sunlight caught in stone, and dark hair tumbled past his shoulders. Horns curved from his head, sharp and elegant. His eyes… they glowed like fire.

He looked like a boy and a god all at once.

He stared at her with quiet curiosity.

“So,” he said, voice smooth and deep. “This year’s offering has arrived.”

Eira bowed and said. “I’m Eira. From Halden.”

He stood slowly, tall and graceful. Each step he took echoed through the cavern.

“Eira,” he repeated. “A name I haven’t heard before. Do you know why you’re here?”

She nodded. “To be given. To die, if that’s what you want.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You say that like you don’t care.”

“I do care,” she said. “But pretending I don’t is easier.”

The Dragon King tilted his head. “You’re honest.”

“I didn’t think lying would help.”

A low laugh rumbled from his chest. “You’re not like the others.”

Eira didn’t move. “Did they beg?”

“Most. Some screamed. One tried to run.”

“What happened to them?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, so close she could see the fire swirling in his eyes.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said.

“I am,” she whispered. “But fear isn’t the same as running.”

He smiled. Not kindly. Not cruelly. Just... interested.

“Then you may live. For now.”

Eira’s breath caught. “Why?”

“Because you’re not boring.” He turned back toward his throne. “And I’m tired of boring.”

---

Later, she sat on a stone ledge near the glowing walls. She didn’t know if she was a prisoner, a guest, or something in between. But she was alive.

That had to count for something.

Across the room, the Dragon King sat with his chin resting on his hand, eyes fixed on the lava below like he was lost in thought. For a moment, he didn’t look powerful or terrifying.

He looked... lonely.

Eira looked down at her hands. What now? No one had ever returned from being a sacrifice. No stories told what came after.

She glanced at him again. “Do you ever leave this place?”

He looked up, surprised by the question. “No.”

“Why not?”

“The world out there doesn’t want me.”

“Maybe it’s afraid of you.”

“Fear and hate are siblings,” he said. “I’ve learned not to care.”

Eira hugged her knees. “I cared. When they picked me. I was angry. Not at you—at them. They acted like it was fair. Like it was noble.”

“It isn’t.”

He said it so simply, it shocked her.

“Then why keep the pact?” she asked. “Why not just... stop?”

His gaze sharpened. “You think I made the pact?”

“You didn’t?”

“No.” He stood again, this time slower. “The first humans came to me with torches and swords. They called me a monster. So I showed them I could be worse. After that, they begged for peace. They made the pact.”

“And now you take a girl every few years like... like a payment.”

“I don’t take anyone,” he said. “They give you.”

Eira went quiet.

The flames cracked in the silence.

He walked past her, pausing only once.

“I didn’t ask for this, Eira of Halden. But now you’re here. So let’s see what you’ll do with the days I give you.”

Then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the cave.

Eira stayed where she was, heart thudding. She wasn’t sure what had just happened.

But one thing was clear.

This story wasn’t going to go the way anyone expected.