Darkness, again.
Not just darkness—pressure.
I was trapped. Ice locked around me, pressing in from every side, wrapping around my body like a second skin.
No, not skin. Not mine.
My heart pounded. Slow. Steady. Too steady. Every beat thrummed through me like a war drum, pushing blood through my veins in a way that felt wrong. Stronger. Deeper. More.
I should be dead.
That was my first thought. The st thing I remembered was cold, pain, and the dragon’s golden eyes watching me as she—
I don’t want to think about that.
I tried to move. My fingers barely twitched. The ice didn’t budge.
Move. Come on. Move.
I gritted my teeth and pushed. Nothing. Again—push! A dull ache spread through my limbs, but the ice refused to give.
No. I have to—
I clenched my jaw, mustering what little strength I had left, and threw my weight forward.
Crack.
A fissure split through the ice. I froze. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then—again. A sharp, splintering sound echoed through my prison.
What—
Then I heard them.
"She is not one of us."
The words sshed through the silence like a bde—sharp, dripping with contempt.
A woman’s voice. Cold. Furious.
Who?
"They will accept it."
The second voice was different—smoother, composed. A voice that didn’t need to be loud to be heard. "That is all that matters."
The first woman scoffed. “You think our kin will stand for this? A false Dragon, forced into the world by your hand?”
False Dragon?
A strange shiver passed through me. It dug into something deeper than my mind—something instinctual. The word felt important. It felt wrong.
A pause. Then the second voice spoke again, calm as ever.
“Would you prefer I offer you in her pce?”
Silence.
The air around me felt heavier. The cold wasn’t just biting—it was alive, pressing down, filling the space between their words.
Then, finally, the first voice muttered something low and bitter. I couldn’t make it out.
The second voice sighed. “It is done. She is hatching.”
Hatching?
No. No, that isn’t right. That’s not—
I pushed.
Something in me refused to stop. I threw all of my weight forward, body twisting, straining—
The ice shattered.
I fell forward, gasping, barely catching myself on trembling limbs.
Cold. Air. Freedom.
I dragged in a breath—too much air, filling my lungs too easily. It burned, my chest expanding more than it should, my whole body aching with the effort of being alive.
I clenched my hands against the ice, bracing against the shock of my own existence. My fingers dug into the frozen ground, scraping—
Wait.
Something felt wrong.
I sucked in another breath, pressing a trembling hand to my chest.
Pain. No—absence.
I frantically searched for the wound—where she had stabbed me, where her cws had punctured my heart—but there was nothing.
No wound. No scar.
Just smooth, unbroken skin.
I should be dead.
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering. A slow wrongness crept in.
I looked down.
No.
My hands pressed lower—skimming over my sides, my stomach.
Smaller frame. Lighter limbs.
A body that wasn’t mine.
A slow, creeping horror settled in my gut. This wasn’t just a wound healing.
This was something else entirely.
I swallowed against the rising panic. Too much. My breath was too fast. My chest rose and fell—too soft, too unfamiliar.
What… what did she do to me?
A sharp exhale drew my attention.
Two figures stood before me.
The first, I knew.
The dragon. The woman who had taken everything.
She looked the same as before—tall, elegant, pale hair shimmering in the dim light. Her golden eyes were distant, watching me with quiet amusement.
But the other one—
She was younger, sharper, with long ptinum hair that framed a scowling face.
I didn’t know her. But the way she was looking at me—
Like I wasn’t supposed to be here.
Like I was wrong.
I sucked in a breath, forcing my pulse to steady.
"What…" My voice cracked—hoarse, unfamiliar. Wrong.
"What did you do to me?"
The dragon tilted her head slightly.
“You live,” she murmured, “as I promised.”
The younger woman scoffed, arms crossing. “You should have let it die.”
It?
A sharp pressure built in my chest, too much, too fast.
I forced my gaze back to the dragon.
"You… changed me."
She gave a slight nod, unbothered. “Yes.”
She moved slowly, like she had all the time in the world. Her golden eyes studied me, scanning every inch of me, her fingers resting lightly under my chin.
She tilted my face up, inspecting.
I stiffened under her touch, my body screaming to move, to fight, to do something.
Instead, I froze.
The younger woman let out a breath, a sneer curling her lip. "Her eyes."
The dragon hummed. "Yes. Fascinating."
The younger one scoffed. "They’re blue. They’re not like ours."
The dragon did not immediately respond. Instead, she pressed her palm lightly against my chest.
A spark—something hot and deep, pulsing inside me.
I jerked, heart pounding as I felt it—a presence, something answering her touch.
A pulse.
No. Not mine.
The same pulse radiated from her.
And from the younger woman.
The dragon’s golden eyes narrowed slightly. "You still have doubts?"
The younger woman pressed her lips into a thin line, but said nothing.
I wanted to protest. I wanted to demand answers.
But I was weak. Starving.
How long had I been inside the ice?
My body swayed slightly, exhaustion pressing down like a heavy cloak.
The dragon let her fingers fall from my face, watching me with quiet consideration.
Then, finally, she spoke.
“You chose to live,” she reminded me, golden eyes half-lidded, calm. “Did you not?”
I stared at her.
That moment.
The choice.
Live, with whatever consequences she decided.
A lump formed in my throat. I could still feel it—the moment her cws had punctured my chest, the ice consuming me, the world turning bck.
"…What am I now?" My voice was barely a whisper.
The dragon’s gaze lingered on me, considering.
Then, slowly, she smiled.
“My daughter.”
