Ashes in the Storm
The storm arrived over Eryndor like a warning.
Auren Vey watched it roll across the mountains from the shadows beneath the eastern bridge, cold rain dripping from the edge of her hood as thunder cracked somewhere above the city walls.
The royal fortress stood ahead of her, carved into black stone cliffs that overlooked the sea. Even at night, the dragon pits beneath the palace glowed red with furnace fire, smoke coiling into the sky like the kingdom itself was burning from the inside out.
Most people in Eryndor avoided looking at the pits.
Auren understood why.
You could hear the dragons screaming from streets away.
Not constantly.
Not loud enough for nobles to acknowledge.
But enough.
Enough to know something monstrous lived beneath the palace.
Enough to know the crown had turned living creatures into weapons.
Auren adjusted the dagger strapped against her thigh and slipped through the narrow alley beside the outer wall, boots silent against rain-slick stone.
Her brother had been missing for six days.
Six.
Tavin never disappeared without leaving word. Never missed a meeting point. Never abandoned her to worry alone.
Which meant he had either been taken—
—or he was dead.
Auren shoved the thought away violently.
No.
Not yet.
Not until she saw proof.
A pair of royal guards crossed the upper walkway above her position, their armour glinting silver in torchlight.
Auren flattened against the wall and waited.
One of the guards laughed.
“You hear what happened in the south?”
“The rebel attack?”
“They say Valor was there.”
Silence.
Then:
“That’s impossible.”
Auren’s stomach tightened.
Even now, people lowered their voices when speaking his name.
Malek Valor.
The dead prince.
The traitor prince.
The monster prince.
Depending on who was telling the story.
The older guard spat over the railing. “Saw the aftermath myself. Black fire. Burned stone. Half the soldiers looked torn apart before they ever touched a blade.”
“Could’ve been another dragon.”
“There is no other dragon like that one.”
Thunder growled overhead again.
The younger guard crossed himself instinctively.
Auren waited until their footsteps disappeared before moving.
The entrance to the lower tunnels sat half-hidden behind iron supply gates near the cliffs. Rusted chains hung from the walls, rattling softly in the wind.
She slipped inside.
Heat hit her immediately.
Not comforting warmth.
Oppressive heat.
The kind that crawled beneath skin and sat heavy in your lungs.
The tunnels beneath the fortress twisted downward in spirals lit by torchfire and molten channels carved into the rock itself. Auren moved carefully through the corridors, keeping to the shadows whenever voices echoed nearby.
The deeper she went, the louder the dragons became.
A low, terrible sound.
Not roaring.
Suffering.
Auren swallowed hard.
She had seen dragons before, from a distance. Every citizen of Eryndor had. The royal riders paraded them through the capital during festivals like prized warhorses.
But this—
This was different.
These sounds belonged to imprisoned things.
Her hand tightened around the folded piece of parchment in her pocket.
A map.
Stolen from a drunken palace official two nights ago.
Tavin’s last known location had been marked beside the lower pit chambers.
Which was exactly where Auren was heading now.
The tunnel opened suddenly into a massive cavern.
She froze.
Gods.
The dragon pits stretched beneath the fortress like the inside of hell.
Iron cages lined the cavern walls in towering rows, each large enough to hold creatures the size of houses. Massive chains anchored into the stone floor. Heat shimmered through the air.
And dragons—
There were dragons everywhere.
Some sleeping.
Some pacing.
Some curled tightly against the farthest corners of their prisons like they were trying to disappear inside themselves.
One silver dragon lifted its head as Auren stepped closer to the ledge above the pits.
Its golden eyes locked onto hers.
Auren stopped breathing.
The dragon’s gaze held ancient intelligence.
Pain.
Rage.
Something inside her twisted sharply.
The creature lowered its head slowly against the chains wrapped around its throat.
Auren’s chest tightened.
“What did they do to you?” she whispered.
The dragon blinked once.
Then screaming erupted somewhere deeper in the fortress.
Human screaming.
Auren spun toward the sound.
Shouts exploded through the tunnels.
Running footsteps.
Steel clashing.
The entire cavern seemed to shudder.
Then came the roar.
Everything stopped.
The sound ripped through the fortress with enough force to shake dust from the ceiling.
The dragons in the pits reacted instantly—thrashing against chains, wings beating violently, snarling and screaming in answer.
Fear crashed through Auren.
Not theirs.
The guards’.
The soldiers above the pits started shouting over one another.
“He’s here!”
“Get the riders!”
“Seal the western gate!”
Another roar split the air.
Closer this time.
Then black fire tore through the ceiling.
Stone exploded.
The fortress shook violently as something enormous crashed through the upper levels of the cavern in a rain of burning debris.
Auren stumbled backward, shielding her face.
Heat slammed into her like a physical blow.
And through the collapsing smoke—
A dragon descended from the storm.
Black.
Massive.
Terrible.
Its wings blotted out the torchlight as it landed in the center of the pits with enough force to crack the stone floor beneath it.
The cavern erupted into chaos.
Guards screamed.
Dragons roared.
Chains snapped.
The black dragon lifted its head, silver eyes glowing through smoke and fire.
Nyrix.
Even Auren knew that name.
Every child in Eryndor did.
The nightmare dragon.
The rebel king’s beast.
The creature soldiers claimed could melt steel with a single breath.
Nyrix opened his jaws.
Black fire exploded through the cavern.
Not orange.
Not red.
Dark.
Like fire dragged from the bottom of the ocean.
It swallowed an entire line of soldiers instantly.
Auren stared in horror as the flames moved unnaturally across stone, devouring everything in their path.
The cages began breaking open.
Dragons burst free.
The cavern became carnage.
And then she saw him.
He dropped from Nyrix’s back like part of the darkness itself.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Clad in black armour streaked with ash and blood.
A sword hung loose in one gloved hand.
The other reached automatically toward Nyrix as the dragon snarled beside him.
He moved through the chaos with terrifying calm.
Like slaughter no longer meant anything to him.
Auren’s breath caught.
Because she knew his face.
Everyone did.
Even after five years.
Malek Valor.
Crown prince of Eryndor.
Declared dead after vanishing during the northern rebellion.
Except dead men did not walk through dragonfire looking like vengeance made flesh.
He drove his blade through a soldier without hesitation.
Turned.
And looked directly at her.
Everything stopped.
Not the battle.
Not the screaming.
Her.
Auren froze beneath the force of his gaze.
Gods.
He was beautiful.
Not softly.
Not delicately.
Beautiful the way storms were beautiful.
Sharp cheekbones. Dark hair damp with rain and smoke. A scar cutting through one eyebrow. Eyes so pale they looked silver in the firelight.
And suddenly he wasn’t moving anymore.
Neither was Nyrix.
The dragon had gone completely still.
Malek stared at her like he had forgotten where he was.
Auren’s heart slammed violently against her ribs.
Something passed across his face.
Shock.
Not recognition exactly—
Something deeper.
Something impossible.
A soldier lunged toward him from behind.
Auren reacted before thinking.
“Move!”
Malek turned instantly.
His blade flashed once.
The soldier hit the ground.
Silence crashed between them again.
The prince kept staring.
Not at her weapon.
Not at the threat around them.
At her.
Like he physically could not look away.
Auren should have run.
Instead she stepped closer.
Stupid.
Completely stupid.
But something in her chest pulled toward him with terrifying force.
Malek’s expression shifted slightly.
Not softer.
Worse.
Hungry.
Not for blood.
For understanding.
Like he was trying to solve something impossible just by looking at her.
Nyrix lowered his massive head beside him.
The dragon’s eyes fixed on Auren.
Then the creature inhaled sharply.
A strange sound rumbled through its chest.
Malek went rigid.
“No,” he said quietly.
Auren frowned.
No to what?
Nyrix took a step toward her.
The floor trembled beneath his weight.
Guards nearby immediately panicked.
“The dragon’s targeting someone!”
“Kill her!”
Auren’s pulse spiked.
Three soldiers rushed toward her from the upper ledge.
Malek moved before they reached her.
Fast.
Terrifyingly fast.
He intercepted the first soldier with brutal efficiency, driving his sword through the man’s chest before ripping it free in one violent motion.
The second swung for Auren.
Malek caught the blade with his own.
Their weapons crashed together.
Then Nyrix roared.
The sound shook the entire cavern.
Black fire erupted around the remaining soldiers, forcing them backward.
Auren stumbled against the stone railing, breathless.
Malek turned toward her again.
“You need to leave,” he said.
His voice startled her.
Deep. Rough. Controlled with effort.
Not cruel.
Not kind either.
Like he was forcing himself to remain calm.
Auren swallowed. “I’m looking for my brother.”
Of all the things she could have said, that was what came out.
Malek blinked once.
The cavern exploded around them again as freed dragons tore through chains below.
But somehow his attention remained entirely on her.
“What’s his name?”
“Tavin.”
No recognition crossed his face.
Disappointment punched through her immediately.
Malek stepped closer.
Too close.
Auren could feel heat radiating from him despite the cold rain blowing through the shattered fortress ceiling.
Nyrix watched them both carefully.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Malek said quietly.
“You think I don’t know that?”
For the first time, something almost resembling amusement flickered across his expression.
It vanished quickly.
Auren became abruptly aware of how tall he was.
How dangerous.
How completely insane it was that she wasn’t terrified.
No.
That wasn’t true.
She was terrified.
Just not of him.
And somehow that felt more dangerous.
A crash thundered through the cavern as another section of the fortress collapsed inward.
Malek barely reacted.
His eyes stayed locked on hers.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Auren.”
The second she said her name, Nyrix made that strange sound again.
Malek’s entire body tensed.
Auren frowned. “What is wrong with your dragon?”
The prince looked genuinely unsettled now.
“That’s what I’m trying to understand.”
The air shifted suddenly.
Heavy.
Charged.
Every dragon in the cavern seemed to react at once.
Heads lifting.
Bodies stilling.
Even the chaos quieted slightly beneath the weight of something unseen.
Nyrix stepped closer to Auren again.
Slowly this time.
Carefully.
Like approaching something fragile.
Malek grabbed the dragon’s harness instinctively.
“Nyrix.”
Warning.
The dragon ignored him.
Auren’s pulse hammered violently as the massive creature stopped directly in front of her.
She should have been dead already.
One snap of those jaws—
Instead, Nyrix lowered his enormous head.
The silver dragon she had seen earlier watched silently from below.
Then, impossibly, Nyrix pressed his forehead lightly against hers.
The world tilted.
Heat exploded through Auren’s chest.
Images slammed into her mind—
Storms.
Fire.
A pair of glowing silver eyes in darkness.
A voice she couldn’t understand.
And loneliness.
Gods, the loneliness—
Auren gasped sharply.
Nyrix jerked backward.
Malek caught her before she hit the ground.
His hands closed around her arms hard enough to steady, not hurt.
The contact sent another violent wave of heat through her body.
Both of them froze.
Auren looked up.
Too close.
Way too close.
Rain dripped from strands of dark hair across Malek’s forehead. Ash streaked one side of his throat. His breathing had gone uneven.
Like hers.
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before snapping back to her eyes.
The entire cavern seemed distant suddenly.
Muted.
There was only him.
Only this.
“What was that?” she whispered.
Malek didn’t answer immediately.
Because he was staring at her like the world had just rewritten itself in front of him.
“Auren—”
The way he said her name made something inside her ache.
Like he already belonged there.
A shout echoed from above.
“Archers!”
Malek’s head snapped upward instantly.
Too late.
An arrow flew from the upper walkway straight toward Auren.
Malek moved without hesitation.
He dragged her against him and turned sharply as the arrow struck his shoulder instead.
Auren felt the impact through his body.
Felt his pain.
Actually felt it.
Malek’s arm tightened around her automatically.
Nyrix roared with such fury the cavern walls cracked.
Black fire surged upward toward the archers.
Screaming followed.
Auren stared at the prince in shock.
Blood spread quickly across his shoulder armour.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s literally an arrow.”
His mouth twitched unexpectedly.
Gods.
Why was he smiling right now?
Then his expression darkened again.
Because he was still looking at her like she was something impossible.
Something he had been searching for without knowing it.
The fortress shook violently once more.
“Malek!”
A voice echoed from across the cavern.
Another rebel rider appeared near the western tunnel entrance.
“We have to go!”
Malek didn’t move.
Auren realized with sudden terrifying clarity that he did not want to leave her here.
Even worse—
Part of her didn’t want him to.
Nyrix lowered beside them again, smoke curling from his jaws.
The dragon’s eyes never left Auren.
Malek looked torn for the first time since she’d seen him.
Like every instinct in him was pulling in opposite directions.
Finally, quietly, he asked:
“Can you run?”
Auren nodded slowly.
“Good.”
His hand slid from her arm reluctantly.
The loss of contact felt wrong immediately.
“Get out before the fortress collapses.”
“And you?”
His gaze held hers.
“We’ll meet again.”
Not hope.
Certainty.
Like he already knew.
Then Nyrix launched upward with a deafening roar, Malek pulling himself onto the dragon’s back in one fluid movement despite the blood running down his shoulder.
The last thing Auren saw before they vanished into the storm was Malek turning to look at her again.
Still staring.
Like he couldn’t stop.
Like something inside him had already chosen her.
And somewhere deep beneath the fortress—
Something ancient woke up.
