Chapter 1
The agony of dragonfire tearing through my flesh still seared my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I touched my reflection with trembling fingers. No scorch marks. No melted skin. And my eighteen-year-old face stared back.
Was this real?
One breath ago, I'd been dying. Now I stood here, alive. The shift felt too sudden, too impossible.
The door burst open. Zephyra swept in, her dragonfire pendant gleaming at her throat.
"Megan, don't be nervous." Her voice dripped honey-sweet as she touched the pendant—what I could never have. "Even if you can't sense dragonfire, the Dragon God won't judge you harshly."
My father's legitimate daughter. Pure dragonblood. The family's once-in-a-century Dragonfire Awakened—everyone's pride.
And me? The bastard born from some nameless human woman. A half-blood who couldn't even conjure a spark.
Looking at her flawless face made bile rise in my throat.
That expression—I'd seen it a thousand times in my past life. I knew exactly what it meant.
"The prophecy bond isn't set in stone." Zephyra's hand landed on my shoulder, her grip just a fraction too tight. "If Lord Roran feels... overwhelming, bond with a lower-tier knight. I'll support whatever you choose."
Support me? The word tasted like ash.
Roran was the empire's youngest Dragon Knight Commander. In my past life, I'd believed her lies and married him.
I thought it was salvation. Instead, I became his shield while he slept with Zephyra.
The truth shattered at Zephyra's ascension ceremony.
When a wyvern shattered through the temple walls and lunged for her, the man who'd sworn his love didn't hesitate—he shoved me into the beast's path.
The wyvern's claws tore into my abdomen. I collapsed, bleeding, my unborn child dying inside me.
Then came the dragonfire.
Roran unleashed it—not to save me, but to incinerate the wyvern threatening Zephyra. The flames didn't discriminate. They swallowed everything: the beast, me, and the dragon egg I'd carried for months.
I burned. My child burned with me.
Through the searing agony, I watched him scoop Zephyra up, his voice cracking with panic. "Save Zephyra! Get the healers! The child—"
My child was already ash. He mourned hers.
"It's all my fault," Zephyra whispered weakly. "If I hadn't been pregnant, Megan wouldn't be so jealous..."
Jealous? She dared to call it jealousy?
"Megan, I'm sorry... If there's a next life, I'll make this right." Roran's final glance, hollow guilt in his eyes.
Next life?
Your dragonfire burned my child alive while I watched. You let me bleed out on that floor. And now you want redemption?
Not a chance.
Blinking away the phantom pain of my past life, I focused on the woman standing before me.
"You're such a caring sister, Zephyra." I stepped back from her reach, watching guilt flicker across her eyes before she masked it. "Always thinking of my best interests."
"Of course. We're sisters." Her smile tightened. "Megan, you're acting strange today. Are you feeling ill?"
Of course I'm different. I've died once already.
"Let's go." I smoothed my ceremonial dress. "We shouldn't keep everyone waiting for this... selection."
The obsidian hall blazed with eternal dragonfire. Dragon clan members packed the space in their finest regalia.
On the high platform, my stepmother—Matriarch Isabella—sat in the place of honor.
To her left stood Commander Roran in gleaming golden armor. To her right sat Drakon, leader of the Shadow Dragon Clan.
Rumor had it he guarded the Abyss and had once torn a wyvern apart with his bare hands. His black eyes held all the warmth of ice.
Roran's golden hair gleamed in the firelight. I knew better than to trust beautiful faces now.
"According to the Dragon God's prophecy, Megan and Commander Roran are fated mates." Isabella's voice boomed through the hall.
"However, by ancient law, any participant may attempt to resonate with the crystals. You may accept the honor of the prophecy, or..."
She glanced toward Drakon with barely concealed disdain.
"You may select the Shadow Clan's Alpha instead."
Every eye turned toward me. Zephyra bit her lip. Roran's gaze fixed on me with unsettling intensity. Drakon remained expressionless, radiating cold indifference.
I walked to the altar where the bonding crystals pulsed with inner fire.
"Honored elders." My voice rang clear. "I'm grateful for my sister's advice. Since Zephyra herself suggested Drakon might be better suited for someone of my... status..."
The blood drained from Zephyra's face.
I grasped the jet-black crystal without hesitation.
"I refuse the bond with Roran. I choose Drakon as my mate."
The hall erupted. Dragonfire roared.
"Megan!" Zephyra's voice cracked. "You know perfectly well that Drakon and I—"
"Know what?" I tilted my head. "Didn't you just tell me I should choose freely? That you'd support any decision I made?"
Roran shot to his feet, armor screeching. He stared at me with an expression I couldn't quite read—shock mixed with something darker.
As if he'd known this would happen.
"Megan, what game are you playing?"
Before I could answer, Isabella's hand cracked across my face.
The slap echoed like thunder. Worse was the crushing dragon authority behind it, driving me to my knees.
My bones groaned. I hit the floor hard, blood flooding my mouth.
"What do you think this sacred rite is?" Isabella glared down. "A useless mongrel making a spectacle—do you want our house to become the laughingstock of the continent?"
I spat blood and met her gaze. "Didn't you just say the law gave me the right to choose? How does that make us a laughingstock?"
"Megan, please stop..." Zephyra's tears flowed on cue. "I only wanted to help you..."
The guards moved forward to drag me away. Then Roran did something that shocked everyone into silence.
He approached Isabella. "Matriarch, I propose we alter the arrangement. As compensation, I'll surrender mining rights to three high-grade dragon crystal deposits. A century's worth."
The hall went silent. Three high-grade mines could sustain an entire dragon legion. That was astronomical wealth.
"In exchange," Roran turned to Zephyra, his expression turning tender, "I wish to take Zephyra as my mate instead."
My heart seized.
No. This wasn't right. In my past life, this bastard maintained his act for five years before showing his true colors. He would never show his hand this early.
Unless...
Our eyes met across the hall. Something flickered in his gaze—a knowing look that sent ice through my veins.
Unless... he'd been reborn too, and my rejection gave him the perfect excuse to drop the act early.
At the mention of "three crystal mines," Isabella's fury turned to greed. "Commander Roran... such devotion is truly extraordinary..."
Zephyra's eyes darted briefly toward Drakon's silent figure before she covered her mouth, eyes shining with tears. "Roran... you'd give up so much..."
The perfect picture of a moved maiden. I wanted to vomit.
Just as they prepared to seal it, Drakon—who'd sat in shadow—finally moved.
Black armor scraped. He rose slowly, and a bone-chilling presence crushed down on everyone. The flames guttered and died.
He looked down at me, his gaze like death.
"Wait." The word cut through the silence like a blade.
Everyone froze.
Drakon descended from the platform, each step deliberate. He stopped directly in front of me, so close I could see my reflection in his pitch-black eyes.
"I don't bond with defective mongrels." His voice dripped contempt. "You're contaminating my crystal with your filthy half-blood touch."
He leaned down, his next words meant only for me.
"Remove your hand. Before I remove it for you."
