[Evelyn’s POV]

The morning sun blazes across the training yard as Sera gathers us together. Her sharp gaze sweeps over the assembled trainees with unusual gravity.

“Listen carefully,” she announces. “The Solstice tournament approaches. Three stages. The winner earns Junior Rider rank and the right to seek a dragon egg from the sea nests.”

My pulse quickens instantly. A dragon egg.

The words echo through my mind while my hidden secret burns in my memory.

I already have an egg. Aspis waits beneath my floorboards, growing stronger each day. His warmth pulses against my consciousness even now.

But winning this tournament would give me legitimate standing. I could claim I found the egg during the sanctioned search. Present my own dragon without suspicion. Finally belong here properly.

“Lord Draven himself will select participants today,” Sera continues. “He’ll test each of you personally. Only the worthy will compete.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd and Mira catches my eye, her expression tight with anticipation. I see Finn bounces on his heels beside Dorian, barely containing his excitement.

The air sharpens when Draven enters the yard. His presence commands immediate attention. Dark hair catches the sunlight as he surveys us with calculating eyes.

Khaira circles overhead, casting massive shadows across the packed earth. The dragon’s presence adds weight to the moment.

“Form a line,” he orders. “One at a time. Show me what you’re worth.”

Xavier calls names. One by one, trainees step forward to face their lord in combat.

Most last mere seconds. Draven moves with devastating efficiency, dismantling their defenses before they can mount proper attacks. He shows no mercy and the line shortens rapidly.

My heart hammers as my turn approaches, sweat dampens my palms despite the cool morning air.

Mira steps forward. She fights well, better than most, but Draven still overwhelms her within a minute. Yet he nods approvingly. “Acceptable. You’ll compete.”

Relief floods Mira’s face as she steps aside and catches my eye and gives me an encouraging nod.

“Evelyn.”

My name cuts through the tension and I force myself forward, meeting Draven’s dark gaze without flinching.

Something flickers in his expression. Recognition. Challenge. Heat.

“Let’s see if last night’s training stuck,” he said quietly when I approached him. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“I don’t intend to, my lord.”

He attacks without warning. I dodge right, barely avoiding the strike meant for my ribs. My body moves before thought catches up. Duck under his arm. Pivot. Counter.

He blocks easily and presses forward. His speed is terrifying up close.

I’m outmatched in raw power—that much is obvious. Every blow he lands rattles through my bones. His strength seems inexhaustible. But I’m faster. More unpredictable.

Years of secret training taught me to fight smarter, not harder.

Cassandra never learned that lesson.

I slip through gaps in his offense. Strike where he doesn’t expect. Keep moving constantly, never giving him a stationary target.

Our dance intensifies. The crowd falls silent, watching with held breath as Draven’s lips curve slightly.

He’s enjoying this. Testing me properly for the first time.

I feint left, then spin right. His arm extends a fraction too far—and I seize the opening instantly, letting my fist connect solidly with his jaw. The impact travels up my arm and his head snaps to the side slightly.

Gasps erupt from the watching trainees, even Xavier’s scarred face shows shock as the yard falls utterly silent.

But Draven recovers instantly and before I can celebrate my small victory, he’s on me—arms locked around my waist, momentum carrying us both to the ground.

Sparrings continue as Draven finishes his selections while I stand apart, trying to calm my racing heart. Mira reaches me first, eyes bright with excitement. “That was incredible! You actually hit him! Again!”

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