Chapter One: The Unwanted Pair
The sky above the Dragon Kingdom burned in shades of molten gold and blood-red, thick with smoke that smelled of ancient power and volcanic heat. Below, the Great Courtyard of the Royal Palace was filled with the elite of the realm — dragon lords in their human forms, knights in iridescent scale-armor, and nobles whispering behind gloved hands.
Today was the day the ancient treaty would be sealed. Magic and Fire, united forever.
We stepped out onto the terrace, my sister and I, and the crowd fell into a hushed awe.
Beatrix — Trix — walked beside me. She was everything a High Witch was meant to be. Tall, willowy, with skin like cream and hair that fell in heavy, glossy waves of deepest midnight blue. Her eyes were a soft, mesmerizing violet, and her magic wrapped around her like a delicate perfume — subtle, beautiful, and intoxicating. She was calm. She was perfect. She was the prize everyone wanted.
And then there was Me. Bellatrix — Bella.
Where Trix was the calm night, I was the lightning storm. My hair was a wild mass of dark, untamed curls that refused to be pinned down, springing free like dark flames. My eyes were a piercing, bright gold, matching the dragons’ own, and my magic didn’t hum… it crackled. It snapped and sparked around my fingertips, wild and dangerous, too powerful for my own good. People looked at Trix with admiration. They looked at me with nervousness. Too much, they whispered. Too volatile. Too much woman for any man to handle.
“Here they come,” Trix murmured, squeezing my arm gently. Her voice was like silk, sweet and smooth. “The princes. Try to look calm, Bella. Please. We must make a good impression.”
I nodded, though my blood was already singing in my veins. I knew what was coming. We had been promised since childhood: The Crown Prince for the Heir Witch. The second son for the second daughter. Simple. Logical.
The great oak doors swung open.
Prince Eric stepped out.
A collective sigh of desire swept through the crowd. He was breathtaking. Tall, golden-skinned, his hair the color of sunlight, his eyes warm and inviting. He was the perfect Prince — charming, polished, beloved. His gaze went immediately to my sister, a smile curving his lips.
"Beatrix," the Herald announced loudly. "Betrothed to Prince Eric, heir to the Dragon Throne!"
Eric strode toward her, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles with practiced elegance. “My beautiful bride. You are even more radiant than the stories told.”
Trix blushed, her violet eyes shining. “Your Highness. I am honored.”
But as I watched, my stomach twisted into knots. Eric’s eyes slid away from my sister… and locked onto me.
That charming, polite smile on his face shifted, just for a fraction of a second, into something hungry. Something desperate. Something that had no business being directed at the sister who was not his intended. He looked at me like I was a feast and he was starving. He looked at me like I was the crown jewel, and Trix was just the box it came in.
It was wrong. It was dangerous. And I hated that my heart raced under his gaze, not from attraction… but from fear and guilt.
Then the Herald spoke again, his voice dropping slightly, losing that grand, booming tone, sounding almost apologetic.
"And… Bellatrix… betrothed to Prince Jack."
A ripple of quiet laughter and pity moved through the crowd. ‘Ah yes,’ I heard a lady whisper behind her fan. ‘The wild witch and the mad prince. Two broken things for each other. Good Eric got the treasure. Jack gets the trash.’
My skin burned with humiliation. But then… I saw him.
Jack.
He stepped out from behind his brother, and the air seemed to change. Where Eric was warm sunlight, Jack was a raging wildfire contained in human skin.
He was everything.
He had that rugged, devastating handsomeness of Charlie Hunnam — strong, square jaw, cheekbones that could cut glass, a mouth that looked equal parts cruel and irresistible. But falling around those broad, powerful shoulders was hair like spun gold — long, silky, flowing in the breeze, just like an Elven King’s hair, beautiful and wild and untamed.
He was dressed unlike anyone else present. While others wore heavy armor or stiff, stiff robes, Jack wore an outfit of midnight blue velvet and black leather, tailored perfectly to his muscular frame. High boots, a coat that flowed behind him like dark water, silver clasps gleaming. He dressed with the impeccable, sharp elegance of Elijah Mikaelson — refined, polished, royal… even though everyone treated him like a pariah.
And his presence… gods. He radiated that untamed, feral energy of Mad Max — a man who belonged on the open road, free, dangerous, impossible to chain.
He walked toward me, and when he stopped, standing only inches away, he towered over me. He looked down, and his eyes were burning amber, intense and sharp.
And then he spoke.
His voice washed over me, deep, rich, smooth, and dark, with that mesmerizing, commanding drawl of Klaus Mikaelson. It was a voice that promised ruin and pleasure in the same breath.
“Bellatrix.”
He said my name slowly, tasting it, and it sent shivers right down my spine.
He took my hand — his hand was large, warm, and incredibly strong, his fingers wrapping completely around mine. He didn’t kiss my hand like his brother had done. He held it. Claimed it.
“So,” Jack murmured, his voice low, meant only for me, his golden eyes searching mine, seeing every secret I tried to hide. “It seems the Crown Prince gets the gentle, perfect sister… and I get the storm.”
He glanced over his shoulder, right at his brother. He saw the way Eric was staring at me with naked longing. He saw the envy. He saw the betrayal. And a dark, knowing smirk touched Jack’s lips — dangerous, bitter, and possessive.
“They think this is a punishment for us, don’t they?” Jack whispered, leaning closer, his scent wrapping around me — smoke, rain, and wild honey. “They think because I am not the heir, and because you are too wild… we are the leftovers. The things no one else wanted.”
He turned back to me, his gaze blazing with that fierce, untamed fire.
“But they are fools, Bella. Utter fools. Because I do not want what my brother wants. I do not want soft and easy and obedient. I want fire. I want the storm. I want the magic that burns everything it touches. And looking at you… I realize I have been waiting for you my whole life.”
He squeezed my hand hard, his voice dropping to a growl that vibrated right through my bones.
“Let them whisper. Let them pity us. You are mine, Bellatrix. And I am yours. And let me tell you this… I am the monster they fear in the dark. And if anyone — even my own brother — ever dares to look at you with anything but respect… I will burn this entire kingdom to ash before I let them take you from me.”
I stared up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. The man everyone called the spare… the outcast… the unwanted brother… was the only one who truly saw me. He didn’t want to tame me. He loved that I was wild.
And behind us, Prince Eric watched, his face twisted with jealousy and regret. And Trix… poor, sweet Trix… stood smiling happily, completely unaware that the man she was marrying was in love with her sister, and the man everyone mocked was the only true king among them.
