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The wind that swept through the Temple of Wings tasted of lightning and old magic. It slithered across Elianna’s skin like a warning, raising gooseflesh along her arms as she tightened her grip on the dagger at her thigh. The blade wasn’t for the dragons—they would burn her to ash before steel touched scale—but for the riders who might see her as prey when the ritual began. Not that anyone here expected her to survive. Her boots echoed against the obsidian floor as she stepped through the towering archway and into the temple’s heart. Pillars carved from dragon bone rose into darkness, curling like the talons of gods above her head. The scent of incense—sharp and metallic, tinged with sulfur—burned in her throat. Hundreds of figures crowded the arena-like circle, each cloaked in their House colors. Crimson banners for House Veyr snapped in the wind to her left; deep green for House Draemyr shimmered on her right; blue and gold standards gleamed like lightning and sunlight behind them all. The heirs of every ruling line stood waiting in rigid ranks, armor polished, faces sharp with hunger. And then there was her—House Kareth’s last unwanted daughter, dressed in leather that didn’t fit, hair tumbling in stubborn curls around her shoulders, freckles scattered across tan skin like constellations no one bothered to name. Elianna tilted her chin higher, forcing herself to meet their stares. Let them look. Let them see the girl they thought would die screaming before dusk. A hush rolled through the temple like a tide pulling back from shore. The Dragon Bells were ringing. Elianna’s breath hitched. Above the temple, light shattered. A crack split the clouds, white fire bleeding through as a roar rolled down from the heavens. The sound was alive, a living storm of power that shook her bones and made her teeth ache. The first dragon had answered the summons. She pressed her palms to her thighs to keep them from trembling as the wind rose to a howl. Shadows churned between the pillars, and then—through the rift in the clouds—a shape emerged. Wings. Vast and glimmering like molten sapphire, scales flashing with arcs of lightning. A Blue Dragon. Its scream split the sky as it plunged toward the temple, talons striking sparks as it landed on the obsidian dais. The arena shook with the impact, and several heirs stumbled back in terror. The dragon’s eyes burned like twin storms as they swept the ranks. Then another roar joined it—a deeper sound, darker, coiling like smoke through Elianna’s ribs. The air thickened. Heat surged across the floor as a shadow fell over the temple, devouring the sunlight that bled through the storm. Every head turned toward the far archway as black wings unfurled against the clouds. Her pulse stuttered. The Black Dragon. The only one in existence. It descended like a blade, air screaming around its body as its talons split the stone upon landing. Scales swallowed the light, matte and merciless as night itself. When it roared, the pillars quivered, and heat burst from its jaws in a gout of fire black as coal. And standing in its shadow—calm, unshaken, as if the world itself bent to his will—was Dominic Veyr. Of course it was him. He moved with that same predator’s grace she’d heard whispered about, tall and broad-shouldered, his cloak snapping like the wing of the beast behind him. Jet-black hair, tapered neat. Tan skin inked in black down one arm—a tapestry of dragons curling along muscle and bone. And those cursed eyes: one blue, one brown, glinting like a promise and a threat. He didn’t glance at her. Didn’t need to. The curl of his mouth said everything. You don’t belong here. Elianna’s fingers ached around the hilt of her dagger. If hatred were steel, she’d have gutted him where he stood. The bells tolled again, drowning in the chorus of dragon roars as more creatures ripped through the clouds—emerald wings scattering sparks of green fire, crimson leviathans hissing smoke. One by one, they landed in the circle, each more breathtaking and terrible than the last. Elianna’s heart hammered as the last bell pealed. Silence fell like a blade. The High Keeper stepped forward, robes trailing like blood across the floor. His voice cracked like thunder. “Let the Choosing begin.” The first heir stepped forward. A Blue Dragon lowered its head and opened its jaws in a blaze of lightning. One by one, the others followed—blooded nobles, polished and proud, chosen by beasts of fire and sky. Until the circle emptied. Until only Elianna remained. The girl no one wanted. The pawn sent to die. The dragons turned away. All except one. The temple darkened as a shadow coiled across the floor. From the rift above, the clouds burned violet, and a low hum vibrated in Elianna’s bones like the heartbeat of something ancient waking from a thousand-year sleep. Then she saw it—sliding through the storm like a shard of amethyst carved from the night. A dragon the color of twilight. Scales glimmering purple so deep they swallowed the light. Eyes bright as shattered stars. Every breath fled her lungs. The last Amethyst Dragon. And it was coming for her. --- The temple fell silent as the dragon descended—wings like night streaked with violet fire. Every other beast lowered its head in submission. Elianna froze. The Amethyst’s eyes locked on hers, and something inside her broke free. Power hit like a storm, knocking her breath away. The dragon lowered its head. Do you yield? The voice thundered inside her skull. “Yes,” she whispered. Heat seared through her veins. A mark bloomed over her heart. The bond snapped into place—unbreakable. The Amethyst roared. The sound shook the sky. Dominic moved like a blade. His hand clamped her arm, dragging her upright. Shadow loomed behind him, eyes burning. “What the hell have you done?” His mismatched gaze blazed with fury. Before she could speak, the High Keeper raised his staff. Silence crashed over the temple. His voice carried like prophecy: “It is done. The last of the Celestial Pair has awakened. And with their bond, the Crown of Wings and War shall rise again."