[Draven’s POV]

I stare at Evelyn huddled in the moonlight, unable to process what I’m seeing. She cradles a hatchling whose pale scales catch the silver light like moonstone, gleaming impossibly bright against the dark sand.

That’s not a sea dragon. Not even close to any breed native to Aeloris. Every dragon I’ve encountered pales against what sits before me.

The creature is white. Pure, unmarked white. The rarest of all dragonkind—creatures most riders only know from ancient texts and half-believed legends whispered through countless generations.

The implications crash over me like a wave breaking against the cliffs. She smuggled this egg from somewhere else entirely. Brought it into my territory under my very nose. The crime is punishable by death under every house law I know.

“Where did you get this?” My voice comes out harsher than I intend, sharp as a blade in the quiet night. “Answer me now, Evelyn.”

She clutches the hatchling tighter against her chest, clearly expecting execution. Her whole body trembles with fear, yet she doesn’t release the small creature.

“It’s mine.” Her chin lifts with fragile defiance. “It was always mine. From the very beginning, this dragon belonged to me.”

“That’s not an answer. I need specifics, not sentiments. Where did you acquire a white dragon egg? They don’t simply appear in the wild.”

She hesitates, and I watch her weighing options. Fear flickers across her features, followed by something harder—determination settling like armor.

“I’m from a small settlement on the neutral territories,” she begins, voice shaking but steady. “A place with no house loyalty, no powerful connections. Just people surviving together.”

“Go on. I want the full story, not fragments.”

“I found the egg myself. In the wild, in a cave no one else dared to enter. The mountains there are dangerous—most people avoid them entirely.”

“And yet you didn’t.”

“I had nothing to lose.” Her jaw tightens with visible emotion. “But when word spread about what I’d found, the elders decided differently. A white dragon was too valuable for someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

“A nobody. An orphan with no family, no status, no connections worth mentioning.” Her voice turns bitter with old pain. “They wanted to use it for political leverage—to trade it to a major house for protection and resources they desperately needed.”

Her words carry the bitter taste of betrayal. I know that flavor intimately.

“They were going to give it to someone more ‘suitable,'” she continues, hands tightening around the hatchling. “Someone with connections. Someone with status. Someone who mattered to them.”

“And you disagreed with their assessment.”

“I took back what was rightfully mine and ran.” Her eyes meet mine, blazing with fierce defiance despite her tears. “I refused to let them steal what I’d claimed. What had already chosen me before anyone else even knew it existed.”

“She speaks truth,” Khaira rumbles in my mind, her ancient voice weighted with absolute certainty. “The bond is genuine—older than any theft could ever be. I can feel it resonating between them like a chord struck true.”

I kneel beside Evelyn, studying the hatchling more closely. The creature’s golden eyes meet mine without fear, steady and knowing in ways that unnerve me.

“This bond was not forced or manufactured,” Khaira continues. “It was born of mutual choice. The dragon claimed her long before she ever touched the shell.”

The hatchling tilts its head, regarding me with intelligence far beyond its size. Its scales shimmer in the moonlight, casting prismatic shadows across the sand.

“A white dragon,” I murmur, still struggling to accept what’s before me. “Do you understand what this means? Do you comprehend even a fraction of the magnitude of what you’ve brought into my territory?”

“I understand enough.”

“Houses have gone to war over far less than this. Entire territories have been destroyed for possessing one of these creatures. People have murdered their own blood relatives for the chance to claim them.”

“She deserves that chance,” Khaira murmurs through our bond with unusual gentleness. “She has fought harder than most to simply survive another day. Do not crush that spirit now—not when she’s come so far.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify