In the Draconia Empire, there was a duke unlike any other named Draen Silvaris.
At twenty-five years old, he remained unmarried, not for lack of wealth, charm, or power, but because of his dragon blood.
The Silvaris household, descended from ancient dragons, held influence so vast that even the Imperial Family itself dared not cross them.
Their lands spanned provinces, their armies rivaled the royal guard, and their word carried weight across the empire.
The Silvaris Dukedom was feared for its might and respected for its legacy as a perfect combination of danger and allure.
And Draen himself embodied that legacy.
Tall, impeccably handsome, and radiating authority, every movement and gesture spoke of elegance.
His mind was sharp, his skills unmatched, and his presence commanded obedience and awe. To look at him was to witness perfection, and yet, for all his brilliance and power, Draen carried a single, glaring flaw,
he had yet to find his bride.
In the empire, nobles were usually betrothed by the age of fifteen but Draen's circumstances were anything but ordinary.
To wed him was no simple affair and any family willing to offer a daughter had to be prepared to place her in the den of a predator.
Not all dared, for the duke was a force unto himself like a man whose dragon blood demanded more than just love or duty. It required a union that could carry his heir, a bride whose body could manifest the signs of his dragon lineage.
Draen's situation was peculiar, even by the empire's standards.
So, to secure a bride, he had to make love to the one willing to marry him, then wait for at least a week for manifestation, the moment when the chosen one's body began to transform, becoming capable of bearing his heir.
When the manifestation occurred, a seal would appear somewhere on the his body whether it's on the back, chest, neck, or even the hands, letting him know that he finally succeeded.
For the past year, Draen had scoured the empire for a bride, and his search had grown more desperate and daring over time.
He had tested every noblewoman brave enough to approach him, but the manifestations never came. His impatience and curiosity eventually led him to experiment beyond the usual boundaries as he had even made love with a man, for his dragon blood was capable of impregnating both male and female, though the results were just as elusive.
Powerful, untouchable, and cursed by his own dragon heritage, Draen Silvaris waited while searching for the one who could finally awaken the seal, the one who could carry his heir, and the one who could claim a place in his heart.
For ten long years, Draen Silvaris had dedicated himself entirely to finding a bride and an heir worthy of his dragon blood. Every noblewoman who dared approach him was tested, every suitor measured against the impossible standards of his lineage.
Yet, year after year, the manifestations never came.
Finally, Draen grew tired of waiting and declared a bold new decree: he would make love every month to any willing partner, noble or commoner alike.
If the manifestation failed to appear, the participants would still be rewarded handsomely with their loyalty and courage compensated in gold, lands, or favor.
Soon, word of Draen's unusual proposal spread like wildfire. Nobles and commoners flocked to the Silvaris Dukedom with each hoping to win favor or at least claim a reward.
One night, under the pale glow of the moon, everything changed.
There's a seal, radiant and unmistakable, appeared on the back of Draen's hand while pulsing with dragon fire and marking the long-awaited beginning of a chain of events that would alter not only his life but the destiny of the person who had been chosen by his blood.
"Alon!"
From the depths of his private study, Draen's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
"Yes, Your Grace?" came the calm, measured reply.
Alon, the Silvaris family's loyal butler, had served the dukedom for over fifty years. His every movement carried decades of discipline and devotion. At Draen's call, he entered the room promptly while bowing lightly.
"You called, Your Grace?" Alon asked, his eyes scanning the study.
Draen, however, barely heard him.
His gaze was locked on his left hand that's being raised slightly while trembling with excitement. A faint, intricate dragon-shaped seal glimmered on his skin while swirling with faint golden light.
His chest heaved, and a grin split his perfect face.
"Look at this. I finally found a bride!" Draen exclaimed, his voice full of triumph.
Alon's eyes widened as he took in the sight. Tears, long held back by decades of restraint, welled up and spilled over. "At last, Your Grace… at last. Finally…" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Draen's excitement didn't waver.
He then turned to the old man with eyes gleaming with a dangerous and possessive joy. "Alon, listen carefully. I want you to fetch him, the man I spent the night with. He's likely suffering now since the manifestation has begun. You know the rules that during the manifestation, I must feed him my blood to ease his pain and allow his body to bear the changes. Do not fail me. Bring him to me immediately."
Alon swallowed with a mixture of awe and worry crossing his weathered face. "Understood, Your Highness."
He bowed deeply and turned to leave with the weight of his duty heavy on his shoulders.
A golden heat surged through his veins as the intricate seal blazed across his hand.
Draen's breath hitched and his heart thundered as the impossible had finally happened. The hunt was over and yet, the real test was only beginning.
But unfortunately, Alon returned…
empty-handed.