Chapter 1: Ashes Don't Forget
1180 Words
The first dragon I ever threatened to kill smiled at me as if I'd offered him a dance.
That was the problem with dragons.
They mistook confidence for flirting and danger for entertainment.
I tightened my grip around the ironwood staff strapped across my back and glared across the crowded market square. The autumn festival had transformed the ancient city of Black Hollow into a maze of glowing lanterns, enchanted music, and stalls selling everything from phoenix feathers to bottled moonlight.
At the center of it all stood Kael Ashthorne.
Golden eyes. Dark hair that looked permanently windswept. A smirk that deserved to be outlawed.
He leaned lazily against the fountain carved from dragonstone while merchants and nobles alike laughed at whatever ridiculous story he was telling. The bronze scales creeping across the side of his neck shimmered beneath the afternoon sun—the unmistakable mark of a fire dragon who had shifted recently.
Arrogant.
Beautiful.
Infuriating.
"Lira."
My best friend Rowan nudged my shoulder. The silver-haired werewolf sniffed the air dramatically.
"You're glaring again."
"I'm planning his funeral."
"Creative or simple?"
"I haven't decided." Rowan nodded thoughtfully.
"Creative means you're still emotionally invested."
I elbowed him hard enough to make him grunt.
"I'm invested in watching him lose."
Before Rowan could answer, a hush swept through the crowd.
The festival trials were beginning.
Every hundred years, witches, dragons, and werewolves gathered to compete for the Ember Crown—a relic said to amplify the magic of whichever clan claimed it.
Winning meant prestige.
Power.
Political influence.
And unfortunately...
Team assignments.
An elderly witch stepped onto the stone platform.
"The trials will not be fought alone."
The cheering stopped.
Lira frowned.
No.
Please no.
"Each competitor shall be bound to partners chosen by ancient magic."
Absolutely not.
Glowing runes spiraled across the plaza.
Names appeared in brilliant silver.
One by one.
The first team.
The second.
The third.
Then—
Lira Thornvale.
Her stomach dropped.
Beside her name...
Kael Ashthorne.
Silence.
Then laughter erupted from every corner of the square.
Kael looked up. Their eyes met.
He laughed louder than everyone else.
"Oh, this is cruel."
Lira marched across the plaza.
"You think this is funny?"
"I think fate has an exceptional sense of humor."
"I'd rather partner with a troll."
"I asked first."
"You—"
Magic exploded between them.
Blue lightning wrapped around both of their wrists.
A binding spell.
Ancient.
Unbreakable.
Until the trials ended...
Neither could travel more than twenty feet from the other.
The crowd burst into applause.
Kael examined the glowing bond.
"Well."
He smiled.
"I suppose we're spending quality time together."
"I will throw you into the ocean."
"I can fly."
"I'll find a deeper ocean."
By sunset they hated each other even more.
Kael discovered Lira organized everything with military precision.
Lira discovered Kael never stopped talking.
He whistled.
He joked.
He winked at strangers.
He somehow managed to look relaxed while carrying enough magical power to burn down a kingdom.
Everything about him irritated her.
Everything.
"So," he said as they entered the forest assigned for the first trial.
"What made you dislike dragons?"
"I've met you."
"Ouch."
"You survived."
"I have thick scales."
"Emotionally too?"
He chuckled.
"No."
For the first time all day...
His smile faded.
Just for a second.
Long enough for Lira to realize she'd accidentally hit something real.
Interesting.
Before she could ask—
A howl echoed through the trees.
Not Rowan.
Not any ordinary werewolf.
This howl carried corrupted magic.
Dark.
Ancient.
Hungry.
The forest fell silent.
Leaves stopped moving.
Birds vanished.
Even the wind held its breath.
Kael's playful expression disappeared completely.
"That's impossible."
"What?"
He looked toward the darkness between the trees.
"Shadow wolves."
Lira frowned.
"They've been extinct for centuries."
"So were blood dragons."
A deep growl answered him.
The creature stepped into the fading light.
Its fur looked woven from living darkness.
Its eyes glowed crimson.
Black smoke curled from its paws.
Then another emerged.
And another.
Twenty surrounded them.
Lira whispered an incantation.
Blue runes ignited around her hands.
Kael's shoulders rippled.
Golden scales spread across his arms.
Fire danced between his fingers.
For one heartbeat...
They forgot to hate each other.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
"No."
"Good."
He grinned.
"Me neither."
The wolves attacked.
Flames collided with shadow.
Magic shattered trees.
Lira raised walls of crystal ice while Kael launched torrents of dragonfire overhead. Their powers moved differently—hers precise, controlled, elegant.
His wild.
Explosive.
Chaotic.
Yet somehow...
They fit.
When a wolf lunged toward Kael's blind side, Lira trapped it in glowing vines before it reached him.
When another appeared behind her, dragonfire consumed it before she even turned around.
Neither acknowledged the other.
Neither said thank you.
But the rhythm formed anyway.
Fight.
Cover.
Protect.
Repeat.
Until only silence remained.
The last shadow wolf dissolved into black ash.
Lira leaned against a tree, breathing hard.
Kael wiped blood from a cut above his eyebrow.
"Not terrible."
"I carried you."
"I distinctly remember saving your life."
"I had it handled."
"You nearly became wolf food."
"I had a spell."
"You didn't cast it."
"I was about to."
He laughed again.
This time...
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Night settled over the forest.
Their assigned campsite sat beside a moonlit lake.
The magical bond refused to let them sleep more than a few feet apart.
Lira sat by the fire, pretending to read.
Kael sharpened a dagger.
Minutes passed in comfortable silence.
Finally he spoke.
"My older brother was killed by witches."
Her eyes lifted.
He wasn't smiling.
"The council blamed all witches."
Lira closed her book.
"My mother was executed because dragons claimed she practiced forbidden magic."
Kael looked at her.
Neither spoke.
Years of hatred.
Centuries of prejudice.
All inherited.
None questioned.
Until now.
The fire crackled softly between them.
"I don't hate you," Kael admitted.
"I hate what I was taught you represented."
Lira stared into the flames.
"I've spent my whole life believing dragons only cared about power."
"And I was taught witches manipulated everyone."
Neither statement felt true anymore.
Not after fighting side by side.
Not after seeing fear in each other's eyes.
Not after discovering grief looked the same, regardless of scales or spells.
A shooting star streaked across the night sky.
Kael noticed her watching it.
"Make a wish."
"I don't believe wishes come true."
"I do."
"What would you wish for?"
He looked at her.
Not teasing.
Not arrogant.
Just honest.
"A chance," he said quietly.
"To become someone better than the stories written about me."
Lira didn't know why those words settled somewhere deep inside her chest.
Maybe because...
She wanted the same thing.
Far beyond the lake, hidden among ancient ruins, crimson eyes watched the campfire.
A cloaked witch lowered her hood.
"The prophecy has begun."
Beside her, an enormous silver dragon exhaled smoke.
"They're already changing each other."
The dragon's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"Then we are running out of time."
Because some love stories were destined to heal kingdoms.
Others...
Were destined to destroy them first.
- Writer
