The Last Dragon Princess

PROLOGUE

AVENA

PAST, AGE ELEVEN

The beam from my flashlight shifted across my makeshift tent, so I reached out to fix it, pulling the blankets tighter over my head. Any bit of light slipping through the crack of my door, and my parents would barge in to confiscate my book in no time.

I nervously pressed my lips together and glanced at my watch—11:43. I promised myself I’d turn the light off by midnight. But right now, Nancy Drew was in the middle of solving a mystery, and I couldn’t stop just yet.

Suddenly, I heard voices downstairs. My parents were usually up late, but they were always as quiet as could be. The only reason I ever knew they stayed up was because they’d caught me sneaking reads more times than I could count.

Footsteps rushed up the stairs, and confusion swept over me. What was happening?

My bedroom door flew open. "Avena!" my mom whispered urgently, almost yelling. I tossed the covers aside, and my flashlight fell onto the mattress.

"Mom?"

Her violet eyes, the ones I inherited, looked wild in the dim hallway light as she grabbed my hand and pulled me out of bed. "Hurry."

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice shaky.

My dad shouted something from downstairs in a language I didn’t understand, and my mom’s face turned as pale as I’d ever seen it—almost like the time she accidentally cut herself while chopping carrots. She hated the sight of blood.

Mom pulled me down the hallway toward their bedroom. "Mom?" I croaked.

She pulled me into their small closet and dragged a cedar chest into the center of the room. Climbing onto it, she pushed against a ceiling panel. I blinked in surprise—I hadn’t even known there was an attic in this house, let alone a hidden door in the ceiling.

My mom locked eyes with me, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’m going to lift you up, and you’ll close the door behind you. Don’t move, and don’t make a sound. No matter what you hear, stay hidden.”

Tears filled my own eyes. “What’s going on?”

She drew me onto my chest and pulled me into a tight embrace."You have no idea how much I love you. You’re my miracle.”

My tears flowed faster. “Mom—”

A loud bang echoed from downstairs, and my mom flinched. “Go. Now,” she urged, lifting me up.

Even though my mom hadn't always been strong, tonight it felt like I weighed nothing in her arms. I grabbed the edge of the opening and pulled myself up into the attic. "You have to come too," I begged.

She shook her head, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. “I need to help your dad. Remember, stay hidden no matter what happens. Don’t come out until you hear the police. Listen for the sirens.”

A tear from my eye fell on her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. “Don’t leave me.”

Her face twisted in pain. “Never. I’m always with you. Always right here.” She placed a hand over her heart.

There was another loud noise from downstairs, and this time it sounded like an explosion.

Mom jumped off the chest, shoving it back against the wall. “Close the door, Avena.”

I froze, unable to move for a moment. “Please,” she begged.

The urgency in her voice snapped me into action. I closed the door, but just before it shut completely, I heard her whisper, “Love you forever.”

Darkness closed in around me, suffocating. It felt like it was choking me, creeping into my throat. Why hadn’t I brought my flashlight? Anything to fight off the blackness.

Muffled shouts reached me, followed by my mother’s voice yelling. A deeper voice growled something in a language I didn’t recognize. There was a crackle and another bang.

I jumped, gripping the rough wooden floor. Splinters dug into my palms, but the pain felt almost like a relief, something to take my mind off everything else.

My heart was pounding so hard, I could feel it echoing through my whole body, blocking out everything else.

“Càit a bheil a' bhana-phrionnsa?” the deep voice snarled.

My mother snapped back in the same unfamiliar language. I had never heard it before, not once. How could my parents speak a whole different language that I knew nothing about?

“Bana-phrionnsa!” the man shouted, his voice booming so forcefully it felt like the walls themselves were shaking. “Where is she?”

“You’ll never get her,” my mom screamed.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then I heard it—my mother’s scream.

My fingers instinctively moved toward the latch on the door, my mom’s warning echoing in my mind: “Whatever you hear, don’t come out.” But she'd screamed, and it sounded like agony. I had to do something.

The man spoke again in that rapid, unfamiliar language. Another deep voice responded, but I couldn’t hear my mother’s voice or my father’s anymore.

Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, and I heard a curse under someone’s breath, quickly followed by heavy footsteps.

“I checked everywhere—bedrooms, closets, even the basement. She’s nowhere,” a younger voice reported.

“A little girl doesn’t just vanish,” the man growled.

“They could’ve sent her off,” the younger voice replied. “We need to go, the cops are almost here.”

“Search the woods. I won’t let her escape this time. Not again,” the man commanded.

“Yes, alpha,” the younger voice answered.

Footsteps moved away as the sirens grew louder, but no more sounds came from the room. My grip tightened on the door latch. I couldn’t wait any longer. I opened the door and peeked out.

Light spilled out from my parents bedroom into the hallway, but all I could see was the closet.

Scooting to the edge of the opening, I grabbed the sides and slid down. I hung from the attic door, glancing below—it was only about a three-foot drop. I just prayed those men weren’t close enough to hear.

I let go.

My bare feet hit the carpet with a thud, and I straightened up quickly. But I didn’t get far—after just a few steps, I froze.

“No.” The word came out strangled, almost inhuman, yet it came from me.

I tried to move forward, but my legs buckled, sending me to my knees—right into a pool of blood. It wasn’t the bright red I’d always seen in movies. It was darker, almost brown, and it poured from my mother, spreading around her.

Her violet eyes stared blankly, lifeless.

“Mom,” I croaked, my hands hovering uselessly over her. What could I do? How could I help?

There was a hole in her chest, right where her heart should have been.

I pressed my hands over it, as if somehow, by sheer will, I could force the blood back into her body. As if I could still save her.

But I couldn’t. And I couldn’t save myself, either.