The royal court of Elthira bustled with anticipation, gathered in the grand arena to witness the most anticipated duel of the year: a battle between two of the kingdom’s strongest warriors—Princess Seraphine, half-human, half-Fey, and Prince Aeryn, the son of the Dragon-Blooded King.

Seraphine stood tall, her eyes fixed on Aeryn across the arena, the clamor of the court fading into the background. She had been waiting for this moment for years—ever since Aeryn had humiliated her in their first encounter, claiming that no half-breed could ever be strong enough to wield a crown. Their rivalry had only grown, and today, they would finally settle it.

The tension between them was palpable, electric even, and the court whispered of the rivalry with amusement, some even wagering on who would emerge victorious.

"Try not to embarrass yourself, Seraphine," Aeryn called out, his tone casual yet dripping with mockery. His sharp, dragon-like eyes gleamed, and his smirk only fueled her desire to win. "It won’t look good for your kind if you lose in front of the entire court."

Seraphine’s grip tightened on her sword, her heart pounding with adrenaline. She was a warrior, trained by the best, but Aeryn’s dragon blood made him formidable. His strength, his speed—he was a nightmare on the battlefield, and he knew it.

"Save your breath," she shot back, her voice steady despite the fire in her veins. "You’ll need it once I’m done with you."

The signal for the duel rang out, and they charged at each other, swords clashing in a flurry of sparks. Aeryn moved with the grace of a predator, but Seraphine matched him strike for strike, her Fey agility keeping her just out of reach. Their blades met again and again, the sound of metal ringing through the arena.

The crowd watched, breathless, as the duel stretched on. But Seraphine wasn’t fighting just for herself today—she was fighting for her place, for respect, for the half-bloods like her who were never seen as equals in the royal courts. Aeryn, the perfect prince with royal blood, was the embodiment of everything she had fought against her entire life.

With a sharp twist, Seraphine disarmed Aeryn, sending his sword flying across the arena. She held her blade to his throat, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The arena fell silent, every eye fixed on the two of them.

But Aeryn… he didn’t look defeated. Instead, he was smiling, his eyes locked with hers in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

"You think this is over?" he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "It’s only just begun, Princess."

Before Seraphine could react, Aeryn’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with inhuman speed. His strength was overwhelming, and in one fluid motion, he flipped her over, sending her crashing to the ground. The audience gasped, and before she could get up, he was already on top of her, his face inches from hers, their breaths mingling.

"Careful," he said softly, his smirk still in place. "You might just make me fall for you."

Seraphine’s heart raced, but it wasn’t from the fight anymore. The way he looked at her—it was different now. There was something in his eyes, something unsettling. She shoved him off, her cheeks burning with frustration, both from losing and from the strange heat that had risen between them.

As they stood, the court erupted in cheers and laughter, but Seraphine barely heard them. She kept her gaze on Aeryn, trying to figure out what had changed.

“You should keep your distance,” he said, sheathing his sword and stepping closer. “There are secrets in this kingdom you’re not ready to know, and getting involved with me would be a mistake. A fatal one.”

Seraphine narrowed her eyes. "I don’t plan on getting involved with you."

Aeryn’s grin widened, a dangerous edge to it. "You don’t have a choice, Princess. We’re bound by more than just blood and crowns. You’ll see soon enough."

Before she could respond, Aeryn turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the center of the arena, her mind racing. She didn’t know what he meant, but something told her that this duel was the beginning of a much larger game—a game that might cost her more than just the crown.

As the crowd dispersed, Seraphine glanced down at her hand, where a faint burn mark appeared, glowing with a strange, golden light.

The burn on Seraphine's hand was still faintly glowing when she returned to her chambers. She sat at the edge of her bed, staring at it. The strange golden light pulsed faintly, but there was no pain, only an odd warmth. She had tried to wipe it off, thinking it was some trick of the light, but it remained stubbornly etched into her skin.

"What is this?" she muttered, flexing her fingers.

Her thoughts kept returning to Aeryn’s words—We’re bound by more than just blood and crowns. She hated the way he’d smirked when he said it, that infuriating confidence of his. But more than that, she hated how unsettled it made her feel. The bond he mentioned, the burn on her hand—it didn’t make sense.

The door to her room creaked open, and her attendant, Lira, stepped inside. “Your Highness, you missed the feast after the duel. Everyone was looking for you.”

Seraphine hadn’t even thought about the feast. Her mind was too clouded with what had happened in the arena. “I wasn’t in the mood for celebrations,” she replied, still staring at her hand. “Lira, do you know of any marks like this?” She held out her hand, showing Lira the burn.

Lira’s brow furrowed as she examined it. “It looks like dragon fire. But that would be impossible. The dragons were banished centuries ago, and only their bloodline remains in the royal family.”

Seraphine’s chest tightened. “Dragon fire?” she repeated, thinking of Aeryn. His family had dragon blood running through their veins—his strength, speed, and powers were all inherited from that ancient lineage. But why would his fire leave a mark on her?

Lira hesitated before speaking again. “The mark is faint, Princess, but it’s a bond of some kind. I've seen it once before, long ago.”

Seraphine’s gaze snapped to Lira, her heart pounding faster. “A bond? What kind of bond?”

Lira lowered her voice, glancing around as if the walls themselves were listening. “The old stories speak of an ancient pact between the dragons and the Fey. When the kingdoms were at war, there were… unions formed between their bloodlines to end the conflict. They called it the Mark of Unity—a bond that tied their fates together.”

Seraphine’s stomach twisted. “Are you saying Aeryn and I are bound by this… Mark of Unity?” The very idea seemed absurd. They were rivals, not allies, and certainly not bound by any ancient pact.

But Lira nodded slowly. “It’s only a guess, Your Highness. But the burn you carry, it’s not a common one. It could mean that your fate is tied to Prince Aeryn’s—whether you like it or not.”

Seraphine felt the room spin for a moment. Fate tied to Aeryn? The thought was almost laughable. And yet, the strange heat on her hand wouldn’t fade.

Before she could say anything more, a knock sounded at her door. Lira opened it, and there stood Captain Theron, the head of the royal guard.

“Your Highness, the king has summoned you,” Theron said, his tone formal and unreadable. “There’s been an incident in the council chamber.”

Seraphine rose to her feet, slipping on her cloak. “What kind of incident?”

Theron hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to Lira before he answered. “It involves Prince Aeryn.”

A chill ran through her. She didn’t know what to expect, but her gut told her that whatever had happened, it wasn’t good. The burning mark on her hand flared slightly as she followed Theron down the castle’s stone halls, her mind spinning with possibilities.

When they reached the council chamber, the doors were guarded by two sentries, who stepped aside as Theron led her in. Inside, her father, King Alistair, sat at the head of the table, his expression grave. Beside him, several advisors whispered among themselves, casting wary glances at Aeryn, who stood in the center of the room—his hands shackled in iron.

Aeryn’s eyes met hers briefly, and for the first time, he looked… unsettled.

“What is this?” Seraphine asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

King Alistair rose, his deep voice filling the chamber. “Prince Aeryn is accused of treason. We’ve found evidence that he has been in contact with those loyal to the banished dragons, plotting against the throne.”

Treason? Seraphine stared at Aeryn, searching for some sign of truth in his eyes. But his face was unreadable, closed off. The court was silent, the tension in the room thick.

“You’ve been speaking to traitors?” Seraphine asked, her voice low.

Aeryn didn’t look at her this time. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?” King Alistair demanded. “We have letters, correspondence that links you directly to the rebel factions.”

Seraphine’s mind raced. If Aeryn truly was conspiring against the throne, everything made sense—his arrogance, his secrecy, the strange way he had spoken to her after the duel. But the mark on her hand pulsed again, as if warning her not to jump to conclusions.

“I didn’t betray the crown,” Aeryn said finally, his voice calm but laced with frustration. “But there are things at play here that none of you understand. The dragons… they never truly left. And the danger they pose now is greater than you realize.”

The council erupted into murmurs, but Seraphine’s focus was locked on Aeryn. He was lying—or was he?

Before anyone could respond, a loud crash echoed through the chamber. The doors burst open, and a gust of icy wind swept in, chilling the room. Seraphine’s eyes widened as she turned toward the entrance.

Standing there, cloaked in shadows, was a figure with glowing, dragon-like eyes, similar to Aeryn’s but far more menacing. They fixed their gaze on Seraphine, and the mark on her hand flared painfully, the golden light burning brighter than ever.

"You should have listened, Aeryn," the figure said, their voice deep and ancient. "The bond between you two is just the beginning."

The chamber was frozen in shock as the figure stepped forward, their eyes now fixed on Seraphine.

“Princess Seraphine,” they said with a chilling smile, “your fate has already been sealed.”