Chapter 2

Lyra’s breath came fast as Kaelen’s cold hand gripped hers, pulling her through the dark forest. The trees whispered in the wind, their shadows long and heavy. She could barely keep up, her long gown dragging over the ground. His touch was icy, yet it steadied her strange comfort in the middle of chaos.

“Kaelen,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “What’s happening? Why did you save me?”

He didn’t turn around. His deep voice was calm, but every word carried urgency.

“You were in danger, Lyra. They were after you. I couldn’t let them touch you.”

She stumbled over a root, and his arm wrapped around her waist, strong and sure. Her heart raced at the closeness at how right it felt, even though she barely knew him.

“Who were they? What do they want?” she asked, breathless.

Kaelen stopped and finally faced her. His silver eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, sharp and beautiful, yet filled with something darker sorrow, maybe.

“You don’t need to know now,” he said quietly. “You just need to be safe.”

Her pulse hammered in her ears. “Safe? My coronation is tonight. I have to be there—”

“Which is exactly why you need to leave!” he snapped, his voice cutting through the cold air. “If they find you before the ceremony, everything will fall apart. Your kingdom needs you alive, Lyra. Go back before it’s too late.”

His words stung. She wanted to argue, to demand answers, but his gaze softened, and she saw pain in his eyes. “And what about you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Why are you here? You’re not from my world. You’re—”

“A vampire,” he finished, bitter but calm. “I know. But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is you.”

The way he said “you” made her chest ache. There was so much emotion in his tone, care, regret, longing. She didn’t understand why his voice made her want to believe him.

“I can’t leave you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

Kaelen’s lips curved slightly. “You have to. You were born for this, Lyra. Your people need a queen, not a frightened girl running through from enemies .”

His words hurt her. Still, the idea of leaving him behind felt wrong, like part of her was being torn away.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked again, her voice cracking. “Why risk yourself for me?”

He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. “Because I couldn’t lose you again,” he said softly.

Again? The word struck her like lightning.

“What do you mean by—”

Kaelen cut her off by gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. His cold fingers grazed her cheek, and the world seemed to stop.

“Go, Lyra,” he whispered. “You don’t remember me, but I remember everything. Every smile, every heartbeat. You were mine once.”

Her breath caught. Her mind screamed that this couldn’t be true, but her heart her heart remembered something. A flash of warmth, a whisper of his name in the dark, a kiss lost in fire and smoke.

Before she could speak, he took her hand and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles. The gesture was so tender that it made her chest tighten painfully.

“My queen,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. “Go now. Be who you were meant to be.”

And then he was gone. The shadows swallowed him like mist. She stood there, staring at the empty space where he’d been, her heart aching in ways she couldn’t explain.

The golden doors of the Dragon Palace opened with a heavy creak. Lyra stepped inside, her gown trailing behind her like a river of fire-red silk. The grand hall glowed with light and music, filled with nobles and courtiers waiting for their new queen. But her mind wasn’t in the room. It was still in the forest still with him.

“Lyra,” her father’s deep voice called. King Thalric stood at the throne, tall and proud, his silver crown shining under the chandeliers. “Come forward, my daughter.”

She forced her feet to move. Every step felt heavy. The whispers of the crowd followed her like a wave admiration, hope, expectation. She smiled faintly, but her heart wasn’t steady.

When she reached the foot of the throne, her father took her hands in his. “You are ready,” he said softly. “Our people believe in you. Lead them well, my daughter.”

She nodded, her throat tight. He lifted the golden crown and placed it on her head. The weight of it pressed down hard, but the real weight was the responsibility she now carried.

“Rise, Queen Lyra,” the priestess declared. The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound echoing through the great hall like thunder.

Lyra smiled, lifting her chin but then the air shifted.

The candles flickered. The cheering dimmed in her ears. Something cold brushed her skin. Slowly, her eyes drifted toward the grand doors and froze.

A shadow stood there. Tall. Still. Watching.

The firelight caught on pale skin and silver eyes that gleamed like ice. Her breath hitched.

Kaelen.

He looked breathtaking and deadly all at once black coat flowing like smoke, his expression unreadable, his gaze locked on hers. For a moment, time stopped. The hall disappeared. The crown felt meaningless.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. His gaze softened for a heartbeat, a flicker of emotion that no one else saw.

Then he smiled. Slow. Knowing. Dangerous.

Before she could move, a sudden gust of wind swept through the hall, snuffing out several candles. The shadows thickened, and when the light returned

Kaelen was gone.

The crowd cheered again, unaware of what had happened. But Lyra stood frozen, her pulse racing. A single white feather drifted down from the ceiling, landing at her feet cold and unfamiliar in the golden hall.

Her father stepped toward her, concern flickering in his eyes. “Lyra? Are you all right?”

She looked down at the feather, her fingers trembling as she picked it up. It shimmered faintly, pulsing with a strange energy one that didn’t belong in the Dragon Kingdom.

“Yes,” she whispered, though her voice trembled. “I’m fine.”

But deep inside, she knew everything had just changed.

Somewhere beyond the palace walls, she felt him Kaelen watching and Waiting.

And the whisper that brushed her mind wasn’t her imagination.

“You can wear the crown, my queen,” his voice echoed softly in her head, “but your heart… still belongs to me.”

Lyra gasped, the feather burning hot in her hand and then it turned to ash.

The hall roared with applause again, but her heart knew better.