Prologue

PROLOGUE

Darrokar

A soundless roar rumbled in the marrow of my bones.

I stood under the endless blood-red sky of Volcaryth, our twin suns glaring down like molten eyes. Above me, the heavens tore apart.

A vessel not of this world hurtled downward, a silvery behemoth engulfed in flames and blackened smoke. It screeched through the fiery clouds, splitting the horizon until it struck the molten surface of a distant lava lake. The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the landscape, the ground beneath my feet trembling with the screams of the dying heavens.

Lava erupted in great, fiery arcs, showering the area in droplets of liquid fire that hissed and sizzled against the scorched earth.

Then, through the smoke and chaos, she appeared.

She staggered from the wreckage. Her form was framed by twisting pillars of flame, long hair cascading like molten copper caught in a breeze I couldn't feel. Her eyes—striking emerald, impossibly vibrant against her soot-streaked skin—locked onto mine as though she could see me, despite the vast distance between us. It was impossible. And undeniable.

And her scent …

Gods above and below, her scent.

It was unlike anything I’d ever known, unlike the cloying sweetness of the forge or the sharp tang of battle. It was warm and intoxicating, like the first breath of air after emerging from the river’s icy depths.

It filled my lungs and settled deep in my chest, igniting some part of me I'd never known before. My fangs burned, sharp twinges sparking along my gums. My tongue … it ached, hypersensitive, as though begging to taste her, to confirm what my senses already sc reamed at me.

Mine.

Though she was an otherworldly figure surrounded by destruction, my every instinct roared with certainty. This stranger drenched in firelight and shadow belonged to me, and I …

I belonged to her.

The sureness was maddening.

I wanted her, not with the fleeting yearning of warrior lust but with something infinitely deeper, something that clawed at the core of my being. My claws flexed involuntarily, tips scraping against the rocky surface beneath my feet.

“Who are you?” The question tore from my lips though she was too far away to hear.

She looked at me as though she’d heard the words, understood them—felt them. Her lips parted, and though I could hear no sound, her voice resonated in my very blood. A single word formed in her breath—just one. I couldn’t make it out, but it vibrated through me, carving itself deep into my soul.

She raised her hand, pale against the encroaching flames, and reached toward me. My wings instinctively flared, as though they could bridge the impossible distance.

Mine.

The word burned through my mind again, sharpening as the air around me wavered, turning unbearably hot, even for someone born of fire and heat. My scales—hardened and scarred from countless battles—tingled unbearably, as though anticipating her touch, her claim. My battle-worn body, carved and unyielding, ached for her in a way that made no sense.

This was no battle. This was no war. And yet I felt as though I’d fought for lifetimes, bled and burned, just for this moment.

For her.

The dream shifted.

She was closer now. Her scent crushed me, heady and overwhelming, setting every nerve in my body aflame. Her fingertips brushed against my chest, tracing the deepest of my scars with an intimacy that made me growl. Her touch was firm.

Possessive.

My head dipped, her breath mingled with mine, and all I craved was?—

Light. Blinding, burning light.

No, pain—searing, unbearable pain lancing through my fangs, my claws, my tongue—all the parts of me born to claim and devour. I snarled as the dream unraveled, her form dissolving before I could catch her, and then, abruptly, the world tilted, and I was falling .

Falling into shadows. Into silence. Into …

My eyes snapped open with a sharp inhale, the echo of her touch still sizzling beneath my skin.

The glow of the heat crystals embedded in my chamber walls did little to stave off the pounding in my chest. My breaths came ragged, uneven. I shot upright, my claws gripping at the carved edges of the obsidian slab I called a sleeping platform. I stared down at my hands, the tremors running through them utterly foreign to me.

Darrokar, Warrior Lord of Scalvaris, did not shake.

But my fangs burned.

Closing my mouth did little to soothe the fiery ache in my jaw. I flexed my tongue, wincing as the faintest motion sent unbearable hypersensitivity ricocheting across my senses. My wings, half-unfurled, curled protectively around me.

Damned dreams.

I growled low, the sound vibrating through my chest, but it put no distance between me and the sensations clawing at me. The tingling along my claws, the phantom press of her fingers over my skin, the maddening scent that lingered in the air, entwining with the faint freshness of the river below.

I couldn’t dismiss it—not as a trick of the mind, not as a warrior’s exhaustion or the effects of a poor night’s rest. This was something deeper. I’d known of the fated bond only through stories and ritual, through the words of others. I'd never dreamed of it for myself.

And yet. She was real. Somewhere , she was real.

I rose from the slab, dragging my claws over its cool surface as though that might cure the chaos within me. It didn’t help. My clawed feet touched the smooth volcanic rock of the chamber floor, and my wings drew close to my body, their membranes taut with tension.

Moving toward the sky tunnel carved into the ceiling, I narrowed my eyes to the faint stream of light streaking down from the twin suns. It was dim now. The sun shafts would soon burn brighter, but for now, this slice of sky was cool enough for reflection.

Reflection. The word felt weak, and the fire ravaging my senses left no room for hesitation.

I braced my hands against the angular edges of the tunnel’s opening, letting the external heat press against my scales. My claws scraped at the volcanic stone, seeking some purchase, but there was no escaping the torrent within. It gnawed at me, simmering low in my gut and coiling tighter with every moment. I wanted to howl into the void, to demand the gods of my ancestors explain this madness.

Instead, I tilted my head back toward the narrow view of the heavens. Somewhere, far above this labyrinth of obsidian halls and warrior chambers, was the source of my agony—and my salvation. The dream … it hadn’t been my imagination. It was a call.

I didn’t understand how or why. Or how to answer it.

It didn't matter.

I would find her. I would tear through realms known and unknown if that’s what it took. Just as the scar across my chest was earned and worn with pride, I would bleed for this bond. I bared my teeth in a wild grin.

Whatever gods had decided this woman was mine had better prepare for what they’d unleashed.

My fangs ached again, sharper this time. My claws flexed, and the scent of her ghosted through my senses once more, dragging foreign sweetness through the heat of Volcaryth. My mate waited … somewhere.

“Mine,” I murmured to the silence of my chamber, the word taking an unfamiliar softness atop the granite edges of my voice.