chapter 4

Her POV

He was kneeling.

A king—a dragon—kneeling in front of me, but it didn’t feel like comfort.

It felt like a storm, crouched and waiting, pretending to be tame.

His hand was warm against my cheek, but all I could think about was how easily those claws could tear through me.

"You are mine now," he said, voice like silk soaked in fire.

My heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it. Maybe he liked it. Maybe he fed on fear.

I tried to shrink back, but the chair didn’t let me go anywhere. I was trapped. Caged. Not by the walls, not even by his strength—but by the weight of his eyes, the way they burned through me like he was memorizing every inch.

“I want to go home,” I whispered.

His expression didn’t change. Not even a blink.

“This is your home now,” he said.

I looked down at the food again. The fruit. The fresh bread.The delicate little cakes and the perfectly poured tea. It should’ve looked welcoming.

It looked like bait.

I didn’t move. Didn’t touch anything. My hands were still shaking in my lap.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Without a word, he picked up a slice of fruit—something golden and soft—and held it to my lips.

Not forcefully. Not cruelly. Just... waiting.

I turned my face away.

He exhaled slowly, like someone trying not to break something fragile.

“I won’t hurt you,” he murmured. “Not unless you run from me.”

That made me freeze.

Because I wasn’t sure if it was a threat.

Or a promise.

...----------------...

(Lost, Alone, Defiant):

This wasn't my world.

The sky burned violet at dusk, and the stars were too close, too bright. The mountains were jagged shadows, and the trees whispered in a language I couldn't understand.

Everything here felt ancient. Watching.

And I was the only human. The only wrong thing.

They looked at me like a curiosity. The nobles with slitted eyes and scaled skin wrapped in silk. The guards with their unreadable expressions and claws hidden beneath gloves.

But none of them looked at me the way he did.

The Dragon King.

He looked at me like I was a treasure unearthed after centuries.

No-not a treasure. A claim.

I didn't belong here. I couldn't breathe in this world of magic and monsters and things that shifted their shapes like it was nothing.

Every breath I took felt borrowed.

Every smile he gave felt like alike a chain.

But I'd find a way out. Even if I had to tear a hole in the sky itself.

Because if I stayed too long... I was afraid I might start to forget what freedom felt like.

Or worse-start to wonder what it would feel like to let him touch me without fear.

And that... that scared me more than anything.

(Caged, Clever, Burning Quietly):

He watched me like a flame watches kindling-hungry, patient, certain I'd catch fire eventually.

I smiled today.

A soft, fake thing that didn't reach my eyes. He didn't notice. Or maybe he did and just liked pretending.

Every morning now, I sat at the long stone table and touched the food. Took small bites. Said little. Obedient. Harmless.

But my mind never stopped working.

I'd mapped every hallway I'd been allowed to walk. Counted every step from my room to the dining hall.Watched which doors stayed locked, which guards were lazy, which ones flinched when I stared too long.

He thought I was breaking. That fear was turning to acceptance. But fear wasn't the same as surrender.

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