The Dragon's Virgin Sacrifice

"SLAP!"

A violent blow landed on Lyla’s cheek, leaving a burning red mark and a throb of pain that pierced through to the bone. Her eyes flew open, wide with disbelief. Her hand trembled as she touched her searing skin.

“Mom!!” Lyla cried out, her voice raspy. She clutched her face, nursing the heat and the stinging ache radiating from her cheek.

“I told you—give in to Nina! Why do you never listen?” Linda Killick exhaled a heavy sigh, but her eyes remained sharp, glinting with fury. “Why must you always be a stumbling block?”

“Mom… I’m your daughter too,” Lyla choked out, trying to swallow the bitterness rising in her throat. “Have you not once taken my side? All this time, I’ve stepped back—out of respect for you as my mother, to protect you so you’d be accepted by the Killicks. But this time, I’m sorry. After this, I won’t put you in the difficult position of choosing between me and Nina anymore.”

“You can’t!” Linda snapped, her face pale with emotion. “Nina’s condition has dropped again because of her disappointment. Her dream of interning at Luminous is shattered because of you! The Antonio family has already contacted me—they blame me for this!”

Linda was indeed Lyla’s biological mother, but everything had changed the moment she married Nina’s father. Nina, fragile since childhood, became the sun around which their world revolved. Meanwhile, Lyla—the resilient child who grew up in orphanages while Linda worked odd jobs at bars—was forced to constantly yield. Even her education at an elite institution was a bitter joke; she was merely the daughter of a barmaid in a sea of billionaires' children, a target for bullies since kindergarten.

Silent tears escaped Lyla’s eyes. The pain didn’t come from the slap, but from the jagged reality she swallowed every day: her own flesh and blood preferred a sickly stepchild just to preserve her status and standing.

For years, Lyla had given in. Over toys, over attention, even over matters of the heart. But this time, she refused. The Arthoria’s Rising Designer competition wasn't just a contest. It was her future—the only path to freedom from the Killicks' cold charity. Victory meant an internship at Luminous, the greatest fashion house in the world. She would no longer have to survive on the scraps of her stepfather's mercy.

That was why she had sent her designs in secret. And she had won.

A victory that was now being rewarded with the ultimate betrayal.

With eyes brimming with a despair that had frozen into something colder than sadness, Linda called out in a flat voice, “Guards!”

Two hulking men entered Lyla’s room. The atmosphere turned instantly suffocating.

“Take her to Silverwood.”

At the mention of that name, Lyla’s blood turned to ice. Silverwood Forest. A place spoken of only in terrified whispers. The Forest of a Thousand Paths, where those who enter are said to be lost forever, devoured by illusions or something far more sinister. No one ever returned with their mind intact.

“Mom… no! I beg you! Don't throw me there!” Her voice broke, filled with pure terror. “Mom… I promise I won’t make trouble for you after this! Just this once, Mom!”

“You will be left there until the winner’s coronation ceremony is over,” Linda said without looking back, her voice as cold as cracking ice. “The guards will pick you up at the same spot at dusk. Provided… you haven't gone anywhere.”

Lyla screamed, reaching for her mother’s arm, but the guards' grip was merciless. They dragged her out without a shred of heart, leaving the grand bedroom behind.

Linda kept her back to the door, listening to her biological daughter’s fading screams. She bit her lip until it bled. Silverwood wasn't just a haunted forest—it was a graveyard of hopes. And she knew the contest wouldn't revoke a win just because the winner was temporarily missing. As long as Lyla was in the city, she could be found. This was the perfect way to make Lyla vanish without a trace or a question until the title—and that golden opportunity at Luminous—fell into Nina’s hands.

Now, only one shadow remained: would Lyla survive until dusk, or would Silverwood—with all its mysteries and curses—swallow her whole, far deeper than Linda could ever imagine?

Lyla was thrown onto the moss-covered ground at the edge of Silverwood. Her body shook violently, not just from the biting wind hitting her thin indoor clothes, but from the horrific realization crawling through her veins. Before her, the forest was not merely dark; it was alive.

Colossal trees with silver leaves seemed to breathe in slow rhythm. A thick, ashen mist coiled between the trunks like a waiting spiderweb. And from the unmeasurable depths, a soft hissing sound emerged—not the wind, but the whisper of a thousand tongues calling her name from the shadows.

Her final scream for her mother trapped itself in her throat, turning into a choking sob of terror. She realized the question was no longer whether she would survive until dusk, but how any part of her would remain intact against whatever was hiding within the fog, slowly reaching out to embrace her.