CHAPTER 4
1329 Words
The silence didn’t last; it only took a second before the crowd burst into whispers.
“What?” a woman cried. “Lady Seraphine picked the Black Dragon? The worst one here? Is she insane?”
“If she couldn’t get a higher-ranked dragon, she could have chosen the green one,” another voice said. “Why the weakest?”
Someone laughed.
“That thing is already half dead. I’d give it three days, maybe less.”
Seraphine kept her hand on Zevran’s scarred scales. She didn’t look back. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her. Whispers spread through the stands, followed by laughter. Some of the nobles leaned toward each other as they talked. A few dragon tamers along the arena wall shook their heads.
None of it surprised her; she had been through this before. The last time, every word had hurt. She cared too much about what people thought of her, but not anymore.
Laugh while you can, she thought. They had no idea who the black dragon really was, nor could they imagine the power he would one day hold.
Her hand stayed on Zevran’s scales. Beneath her palm, she felt the slow, steady beat of his heart.
“Seraphine.”
Rosalind stepped closer. She wore a look of concern, gentle enough to fool anyone who didn’t know her.
“Are you sure?” she whispered. “Because from where I’m standing, the dragon looks like he’s barely alive.”
Seraphine didn’t answer; she watched Rosalind instead. Rosalind glanced at the crowd before looking back at her. She wanted everyone to see how worried she looked.
Before Seraphine could speak, another voice rang across the arena.
“Have you lost your mind, Seraphine?”
The king walked toward her. He stopped in front of her, his face hard with disappointment.
“Out of every dragon in this arena,” he said, “you chose the most useless one.”
His eyes shifted to the black dragon. He looked at the cracked scales and the bent wing before turning back to her.
“Just like your mother,” he said. “Always settling for scraps instead of what she deserved.”
His words hit harder than she expected. Seraphine closed her hands into fists until her nails dug into her palms.
Mother never settled for scraps, she thought. She chose kindness. She kept choosing it, even when no one appreciated it and they called her weak because of it.
Her father had dismissed her mother’s whole life with a single sentence. Seraphine looked at him without saying a word; she refused to cry.
Not this time, she told herself. I won’t let their words decide who I am.
The king walked away before she had the chance to say anything else. Seraphine remained where she was, watching him leave. For a moment, she thought of her mother’s smile and all the times she had tried to make her father proud, and of the years that had passed as she chased love and approval that always felt out of reach. She was tired of waiting for it.
Rosalind continued forward, taking another step toward her again. The smile on her face was still there, but it no longer looked kind.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Seraphine.”
Her voice was low, meant for Seraphine alone, though the people closest to them leaned in to listen.
“No one has ever tamed a black dragon; they don’t bow to anyone.”
Rosalind smiled and slowly ran her thumb across her throat.
“Be careful,” she whispered. “You might end up raising a monster that kills you.”
Once, those words would have frightened Seraphine, but not anymore. Before Seraphine could speak, Zevran moved. He shifted in front of her, shielding her with his massive body.
His roar burst across the arena, shaking the stone beneath them. Every chain holding him rattled, and the dragons nearby fell silent.
Rosalind flinched, and for the first time since stepping into the arena, she looked afraid. Zevran lowered his head, his golden eyes fixed on her.
He didn’t attack; he didn’t need to, but the message was clear enough for her to understand.
“Stay away from my Queen.”
Rosalind took several steps back. One hand flew to her chest as she stared at Zevran. The smile she had been wearing was gone; she looked really scared.
Whispers spread through the arena. The same people who had laughed at the black dragon only moments ago were looking at him differently now. They were finally seeing how large he was and wondering if they had judged him too quickly.
Seraphine didn’t move away. She stepped closer to Zevran instead. Her hand rested against the side of his head.
The growl in his chest grew quietly. His body slowly relaxed beneath Seraphine's touch, but his eyes never left Rosalind.
Seraphine smiled.
“Thank you for the warning, Rosalind,” she said.
Her voice was calm. “But it seems perfectly sweet to me.”
Rosalind opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. She stared at Seraphine for a long moment before turning away. Without another word, she walked back to the crimson dragon, her steps quick and stiff.
Seraphine watched her leave before resting her hand against Zevran’s head again. Her fingers moved slowly over his scarred scales.
The memories came back.
Last life, you belonged to Rosalind, she thought. She chose you because she thought you would make her stronger. When that didn’t happen, she blamed you instead.
She could still picture the scars on his back, the marks left behind by every punishment he had endured. There were days she passed his enclosure and noticed his food untouched, and she knew no one had bothered to care if he ate or not. Rosalind never made things easier for him either. Whenever he failed, she found a way to make him feel like he was the only one to blame.
Then came the day she could never forget. Rosalind had drawn her sword, and Zevran was lying on the ground, too weak to fight back. She remembered Rosalind standing over him without a trace of pity before driving the blade into his body.
You were never weak, Seraphine thought.
No one ever showed you kindness.
She thought of her mother. Everyone had called her weak, too, because she was kind. They had mocked her for caring too much and giving too much; now they were saying the same thing about Zevran.
They were wrong then and now.
This time, she promised, pressing her palm more firmly against his scarred scales, I won’t leave you to face it alone. No one will hurt you again, and together, we’ll make everyone who betrayed us regret it.
Her hand rested against his scales.
This time, Rosalind, she thought, I’ll use the very dragon you threw away to bring you down.
Her eyes stayed on her stepsister. Rosalind was still smiling from afar. She had no idea what was coming.
“Welcome to your nightmare.”
Beneath Seraphine’s hand, Zevran stirred. She looked at him, and the anger in his golden eyes slowly faded. He was still watching Rosalind, but there was something else in his gaze now that looked like recognition. It was as if he had finally found the person he had been searching for.
Then, in front of everyone in the arena, Zevran lowered his head before Seraphine. The same dragon they had laughed at, called worthless, and everyone believed could never be tamed.
The arena fell silent; people stared in disbelief. Some of the nobles rose from their seats. Even the dragon tamers along the arena wall couldn’t hide their surprise. No one had ever seen the Black Dragon bow to anyone.
Seraphine looked at Zevran, unable to look away, then his voice reached her again.
“At last, you chose me.”
- Writer
