CHAPTER 5
1562 Words
Seraphine stepped into her chambers. The door closed behind her, shutting out the voices from the arena.
The room was quiet. The fire burned in the hearth, and Zevran lay on the stone floor, his slow breathing the only other sound. She walked to the table and reached for the clay bowls and dried herbs.
She picked up a mortar and pestle and began crushing silverleaf with bloomroot until they formed a smooth paste. Her hands moved without hesitation; she had done this before in her previous life.
Back then, she had prepared the same medicine for another dragon. The memories still felt close, as though they belonged to yesterday instead of another lifetime.
"Hold still," she murmured, dipping her fingers into the pestle and turning toward him. "This will help the wounds close faster."
Zevran watched her without looking away. His golden eyes followed every movement as she spread the ointment over the cracks in his scales. She took her time, careful not to touch the places where the skin underneath had torn.
A soft tune escaped her lips; she didn’t even realize she was humming.
“Rosalind said one thing that wasn’t entirely wrong,” Seraphine said, her attention still on his wounds.
Her hands stopped for a moment. Memories from her last life crossed her mind, but she pushed them away before they could take hold.
“Trust matters,” she continued. “So does betrayal.”
She looked up at him.
“I don’t want either of us to go through that again.”
She rested one hand lightly against his scales.
“Let’s form a blood bond. This time, we’ll be loyal to each other. No secrets and no one will ever come between us.”
A low rumble came from Zevran’s chest; it wasn’t a growl; it sounded more like he was thinking about her words.
"What?" She glanced up, brow furrowing. "You don't like the idea?"
He made the sound again, but lower this time. Seraphine smiled to herself and went back to treating his wounds. She moved to the bruises around the base of his neck, where the skin beneath his scales had turned dark.
The moment her fingers touched the area, Zevran lifted his head.
“Oh…” She pulled her hand back at once. “Did I hurt you?”
Concern filled her voice.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.”
She leaned closer and blew gently over the wound before spreading the medicine with slow, careful movements.
What in the name of the old gods is wrong with this woman? Zevran thought.
Every part of him tensed. Seraphine rested her hand against his neck and frowned.
“You’re warm.”
She leaned in until her forehead touched his scales.
“Is the wound getting worse?” she murmured. “Do dragons get fevers?”
She had no idea what she was doing to him.
Does she really have no idea what she’s doing? Zevran thought.
He breathed out slowly, trying to calm himself. It had nothing to do with his injuries.
A dragon’s neck isn’t a place you touch so casually. You need to stop, Zevran thought loudly in his head.
“No,” Seraphine murmured, still rubbing the ointment over the wound. “It doesn’t feel like a fever.”
She kept going, completely unaware of his reaction.
If you keep touching me like that…
He closed his eyes for a moment.
…you’re going to regret it.
He couldn’t hold back the shift any longer. Golden light spread across his scales. In the blink of an eye, the dragon was gone.
A man knelt where he had been. He was broad-shouldered, powerfully built, with dark hair falling around a face so handsome it hardly seemed real. He looked completely at ease, as though standing naked in the middle of the room was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Seraphine let out a startled scream and stumbled backward.
“Ah!”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“A dragon’s neck,” he said, his deep voice calm, “is only meant to be touched by their fated mate.”
Before she could respond, he reached for her. His hands settled lightly on her waist as he lifted her with little effort and placed her in front of him. They were so close she could feel the warmth of his body, and his golden eyes never left hers.
“So tell me, human.”
A smile appeared on his face.
“Are you ready to be my mate?”
“You…” Seraphine pointed at him, then quickly looked away. “You should put some clothes on.”
Her face felt hot.
“You’re naked.”
Zevran laughed.
“That’s your biggest concern?”
He leaned a little closer.
"A moment ago, you were touching my neck without hesitation," he said as he leaned a little closer. "Now you can't even look at me?"
Seraphine immediately looked away.
"That's different. I… I was treating your wounds.”
“Were you?” He tilted his head, watching her struggle not to stare. "You wanted a blood bond," he continued. "That usually requires a little more trust than this.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he gently touched her chin and turned her face back toward him.
"Then why are you trying so hard not to look at me now?" he asked.
“That’s because you’re naked!”
He looked even more amused.
“Ah, so that’s the problem.”
He reached out and lifted her chin.
“Then look at me now.”
Seraphine forgot what she was about to say. His golden eyes stayed on hers.
“There,” he said softly. “That wasn’t so difficult.”
“Easy,” he whispered, lifted a hand, and gently moved a loose strand of hair away from her face.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
He took her hand and placed it against his chest. She felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.
Seraphine looked up at him; every part of her told her to step away, yet she couldn’t. Something about him held her there.
Zevran lowered his head, his lips brushing the side of her neck. He lingered there before pressing another gentle kiss just below her ear.
A shiver ran through her; she closed her eyes without meaning to. Zevran's lips traced a slow path along her jaw before stopping near her cheek.
Seraphine lifted her hands and cupped his face. A quiet breath escaped her as his lips brushed the curve of her collarbone.
She knew she should stop him.
Instead, she stayed exactly where she was, letting herself melt into his gentle touch.
Golden light burst around them. It spread across the room in thin streams before wrapping around their bodies. Seraphine felt a rush of warmth flow through her, strong enough to make her close her eyes. It lasted only a moment before fading.
When she opened her eyes again, a small mark had appeared on her forehead. It looked like an ancient symbol, glowing softly before the light slowly disappeared. The same mark appeared on Zevran’s forehead.
For a moment, everything around her disappeared. A cold stone floor flashed before her eyes, followed by the c***k of a whip. She saw Zevran after days without food, alone through years of silence. She felt his loneliness, his pain, and the quiet strength that had carried him through it all. Then the memories were gone.
“The bond is complete,” Zevran said softly.
His forehead rested lightly against hers.
“From this moment on, our senses are connected.”
His eyes met hers.
“You’re my mate now.”
He lifted her chin and leaned in, intending to kiss her again.
This time, Seraphine pulled away.
“Wait.”
Her hand flew to her forehead, and her fingers brushed the strange mark on her skin.
“Wait… what is this?”
She hurried to the basin by the window and looked at her reflection. A golden symbol rested on her forehead. It was small and ancient, the same mark she had seen on Zevran only moments ago.
She could hardly believe what she was seeing. She turned at once and rushed to the shelf where her mother had kept her old books for years. They were covered in dust, untouched by anyone since her mother’s death.
Seraphine pulled one from the shelf and flipped through the worn pages as fast as she could. Dust drifted into the air with every page she turned.
Her fingers stopped on a passage near the back of the book. She frowned and began to read aloud.
“The Golden Dragon Mark reveals itself only when one bearing the Royal Dragon Bloodline forms a true, fated bond.”
She stared at the page, then continued.
“The Royal Dragon Bloodline vanished twenty years ago, when the Dragon King fell during the Great War.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the page.
Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at Zevran. The golden mark was still visible on his forehead, and he just stood there watching her.
Suddenly, so many things began to make sense, and she looked into his eyes.
“Who…” she whispered.
“Who are you?”
- Writer
