Dazed, Serena looked around, her brow knitting as if she had woken in the wrong place.
"Oh no," Hyran said sharply from behind her. "You do not get to pull the I don't remember card. We are finishing this."
He sounded far too excited. Practically vibrating with it. The greatest academic thrill of his life was unfolding, and he had no intention of letting it slip away.
He grabbed Serena by the arm and started down the spiral stairs before Dexmon could even sort through the tangle of emotions coming off her.
Serena went with him without resistance. She was still disoriented, moving more on momentum than intent.
Dexmon swore under his breath and followed immediately. King Tiberon, Elara, Gavriel, and Hale came after them, expressions tight, curious, and wary in equal measure.
They descended into pitch-blackness.
The chamber swallowed them whole.
Hyran lifted a hand, already forming a spell for light, but stopped short.
Serena's eyes ignited gold.
Then her skin. Soft. Luminous. Alive.
Hyran released her sleeve at once, watching her like a man witnessing divinity through a scholar's lens. Intrigue sharpened into awe.
Without speaking, Serena stepped forward into the dark.
Where her boots touched the floor, the stone lit beneath her in radiant gold, like sunlight etched directly into marble. Each step bloomed, illuminating her path while the rest of the chamber remained drowned in shadow.
Dexmon took one step after her.
Nothing lit.
He froze.
Only her footsteps glowed.
She continued forward, unarmed, glowing softly in the void, golden footprints marking her passage deeper into the darkness.
Dexmon's breath hitched. Instinct overrode thought.
He sprinted and caught her hand just as she stepped up onto something solid.
Nothing reacted. No wards. No resistance.
He stayed with her.
They climbed what felt like stairs, though the world around them remained pitch-black. The only light came from her body and the golden imprint blooming beneath each step she took.
Then, exactly as if Serena had been waiting for it—
Light exploded outward.
A flash ripped through the chamber as the upper edges of the marble walls ignited, golden runes flaring to life in cascading waves. The glow spread just enough to reveal the space at last.
A marble bridge.
Elegant. Ancient.
Serena and Dexmon stood at its far edge, hand in hand.
Behind them, the others could finally see the path she had walked.
The chamber was vast and faintly chilled, the air carrying the quiet bite of night as if they were standing beneath an open sky rather than deep underground.
Serena's eyes flashed green, locking on Dexmon. He held her gaze for a moment too long.
Her eyes flashed back to gold, and she turned toward the darkness, slipping from his grip.
She dove straight into the water, or what appeared to be a vast underground lake.
The lake immediately blazed gold the instant she broke the surface, illuminating the entire chamber.
"What the…" Gavriel muttered.
"Water does that sometimes when she gets in it," Elara said casually, like she was sharing a favorite color or a harmless fun fact. At this point, if that was what counted as strange, then she clearly was the one with too many loose screws.
Dexmon dove after her without hesitation, cutting through the golden-lit water.
The gold coming from Serena spread outward through the entire lake, then down a connecting river, revealing just how colossal this hidden chamber was.
It was easily the size of the Drakenfell castle itself. Grass. Trees.
Above them, constellations shimmered across the ceiling, and a massive silver moon.
Serena swam toward the center of the lake where an island rose silently from the water. Dexmon was right behind her, cutting through the gold-lit current with steady strokes.
Was he enjoying this? Yes.
Did he like chasing her? Also yes.
Was that fucked up? Absolutely.
A crystal basin sat atop a stone pedestal at the island's center. A dim flame already burned within it, steady and waiting.
Serena surfaced in one smooth motion, stepping onto the island. Her thick hair glowed like moonlight.
Each footstep glowed gold.
She bent and grabbed a sharp rock from the ground.
Dexmon climbed out beside her, eyes never leaving her hands, trying to understand what she intended to do next.
He followed her to the basin, watching closely, trying to decipher what she was doing.
She raised the rock above her hand.
Dexmon caught her wrist instinctively. "Serena—"
She moved anyway.
The stone sliced clean across her palm.
Gold blood spilled free, liquid light sliding between her fingers.
The moment it touched the crystal basin, the fire flared gold.
Just like it had the day prior, the scent of her blood slammed into his senses, primal and overwhelming, ripping straight through discipline and reason.
His wolf reared up inside him, howling, claws scraping against his ribs as if his own body were a cage. His heart thundered, caught somewhere between hunger and outright panic.
A crushing urge to mate with her overpowered him, tearing through with no concern for timing, place, or consequence.
He froze, every muscle locked tight as he fought for control. But every breath dragged more of her scent into him, thick and intoxicating, drowning thought until the world narrowed to her pulse, her warmth, her blood.
He fought it.
Gods, he fought it.
Just when he managed to steady his pulse, to shove the instinct back down into something barely manageable, his wolf lunged again, savage and desperate.
Aegon:Mate her. Mark her. She's ours.
Dexmon's eyes flared molten gold for a heartbeat, power flashing dangerously close to the surface. His jaw clenched hard enough to ache as he forced the wolf down, burying it beneath iron discipline.
Barely.
His grip tightened on her wrist. Grounding himself as much as her.
Then the whispers came.
Low. Ancient. Not spoken aloud, but echoing from the basin itself, vibrating through bone and blood.
The dragon prince must also bleed.
Only then may both hands be put into the flame for judgment.
Dexmon went still.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his gaze from her bleeding palm to the glowing basin.
In that moment, Serena's eyes flickered back to green. She stared down at her own hand hovering over the basin, then looked at him, confusion clear in her eyes. But he knew.
He let go of her wrist and pulled the rock from her grasp. Without looking away from her eyes, he cut his palm and squeezed blood into the basin.
Submit your hands to the flame for judgment.
His fingers slid through hers, intertwining as their blood mixed, guiding her hand into the flickering flame.
A sudden roar split through the chamber and the flame surged upward in a golden column, striking the ceiling far above them.
The shockwave slammed King Tiberon, Hyran, Elara, Gavriel, and Hale off their feet.
Dexmon and Serena stood rooted in place, hands inside the roaring fire, untouched by the inferno.
Dexmon then heard whispers.
Incarnate of the First Dragon King.
Daughter of the Moon Goddess.
We have waited through ages uncounted.
Through ash, through silence, through the forgetting of names.
You stand where blood remembers.
The Drakenfire rings may be granted, but only by choice, not decree.
Not by bond alone, but by will.
Should you choose one another in this life,
Return to this place.
And the fire will judge you.
Gold magic streamed into Dexmon and Serena, but neither of them seemed to notice. The whispers were only heard by them, and no one else.
King Tiberon had witnessed this once already.
Last night.
He kept his expression perfectly composed then, just as he did now. Kingly. Unmoved. But beneath the stillness, his mind raced with ruthless clarity.
Because here it was again.
Confirmation.
She was not merely connected through Velkaris. Not merely a fortunate coincidence of dragon and rider.
She was his son's true fated mate.
Not a bond of convenience. Not a political tether. Not even a single-life imprint.
A bond that endured across lifetimes.
Chosen by blood. By ancestors who still watched. By fire that remembered.
Such bonds were sacred. Vanishingly rare. Spoken of in half-burned records and dismissed as myth by modern courts.
And yet his son had not claimed her and continued the farce with Princess Agnes.
Never, in any recorded history, had a fated mate also been bound to a dragon.
History was not just unfolding.
It was watching to see who would dare answer.
Stone ground against stone as an altar rose from the floor. King Tiberon met Dexmon's gaze as it emerged.
Two gold rings rested upon it.
One larger. One smaller.
Serena stepped forward, eyes burning gold, moving as if guided by memory. Dexmon followed, breath catching as the familiar pull tightened in his chest. He knew, with absolute certainty, that the smaller ring had always been meant for her.
Serena lifted the larger ring. Dexmon lifted the smaller.
The instant their hands touched, white light exploded through the chamber.
King Tiberon, Gavriel, Hale, and Elara shielded their eyes, blinded by the brilliance.
Within the veil of light, unseen by any but each other, Dexmon guided Serena's hand and slid the smaller ring onto her finger. Still gold-eyed, she lifted the larger ring and placed it on his.
The moment both rings settled, the chamber convulsed.
A second burst of blinding white light tore through the space, followed by a deep, bone-shaking pulse that rippled through the palace down to its foundations.
Dexmon leaned in toward her, pausing an inch away from her lips.
She didn't pull away.
He closed the distance, their lips touching. A spark shot through him, causing him to jolt.
Another pulse of white light flared as soon as their lips touched.
Her eyes flashed back to green and she kissed him back.
His wolf started to surface, wanting to mark her, and he pulled away abruptly, shutting his eyes to push it back down.
Across the other side of Drakenfell's fortress, Queen Bellatrix and Princess Agnes felt a vibration, both exchanging a sharp glance.