Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
In the hidden realm of Ashmorra, immortal berserkatrix Olyssa Drachenveil, Queen of Dragons, has spent centuries bound to a cruel grant eternal life to a mortal firebrand in the heat of her flames or watch him perish. But any man she’s ignited has died screaming. She’s vowed never to test another.
He must survive her fire.
Taron Locke, brilliant historian and secret dragon slayer, has spent his life preparing to end the creature who murdered his father. A legend cloaked in beauty and ruin. When he summons her with ancient chains, he intends to end her reign, not fall under her spell. But the moment they meet, everything combusts. A battle. A bond. A kiss that could burn an empire to ash.
In war, desire is the most dangerous blaze.
As ancient enemies rise and Olyssa’s crown—and heart—hang in the balance, she must decide whether to defy destiny or surrender to it. And Taron must destroy the queen he was born to hate… or become the firebrand destined to love her for eternity
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Hear now the tragedy of the Dragon Queen.
Once upon a time, in the age when dragon-berserkers carved kingdoms from flame, Olyssa Drachenveil was born in fire and fury, her heart sealed in ice, her destiny already written.
Her fated firebrand she must burn: immortality in her flames, or ash with no return.
For Olyssa, love equaled loss. She’d buried friends and family alike and feared losing another. So she did what dragons do best: she hardened. Leading raids beside her father, the Dragon King of Ashmorra, she helped steal treasure and thrones with abandon but no remorse.
Until she came upon Leopold Locke, a mortal man with iron chains and endless courage. The only villager to stand his ground when dragon armies darkened his skies.
With cunning traps and surprising strength, he did the impossible. He imprisoned the storm-eyed princess.
Somewhere between their battles and bargains, the line between captor and captive blurred. Hatred turned to heat, heat to hunger and hunger to love. He taught Olyssa to build rather than destroy. She showed him the joy of life beyond survival.
But as soon as her father’s war ended, Olyssa and Leopold’s newfound love faced an unbearable choice. Let him remain mortal and lose each other to time. Or forge him immortal in her flames, risking everything to spend eternity together.
He chose the fire. Love.
Olyssa agreed to test him, even as doubt flickered. But hope quickly smothered doubt, for an ancient myth foretold of a great phoenix warrior, pure of heart, rising among the dragons. A tale, she was sure, that spoke of Leopold.
She unleashed. He burned.
But he did not rise again.
His ashes scattered in the wind, and Olyssa’s scream split the heavens. Fueled by rage and blame, Leopold’s brothers struck, binding her in the very chains her sweet Leo had once freed her from. In her grief, she let them do it.
Weeks passed, her constant flow of tears seeping into the metal, igniting a second curse. From that day forth, the Chains of Olyssa would call to her whenever worn, forcing her to test the wearer in her fire. Immortality or ashes.
Ignorant of this, she left the shackles behind when at last she escaped. The Lockes, however, kept them, plotting, waiting, vowing that a son of their line would one day be her undoing. But as she rose in rank, becoming leader of the dragons, generations of Lockes withered while others bloomed, their hatred slowly curdling into something worse. A hunger for the very immortality Leopold had not gained.
Each time a Locke chained himself in the mystical bonds, he summoned the Queen of Dragons. Each time she came. And each time, she burned him to ash in her flame.
Centuries ticked on. The world changed. Olyssa endured, her heart hollowed by regret and sorrow.
Today, only one Locke remains. And unlike those before him, he doesn’t seek immortality.
He seeks her end.
When the Chains call once again, will the Dragon Queen’s heart be mended at last… or broken beyond even her fire?
Chapter
One
A well-trained human smells slightly singed. In other words: Perfect.
-Humaning for Beginners: A Dragon’s Tale of Human Management
Disaster had a flair for theatrics, and I was currently its reluctant star.
First, my father had clawed back from the death I’d dealt him centuries ago. Then, three of my best warriors vanished without a trace. Most recently? Someone spotted a human creeping around my realm. Not once, not twice, but thrice. He’d picked fights with my dragons—and won. He’d also pocketed things that didn’t belong to him, successfully avoiding traps I’d set.
I glanced at a shelf on my wall, where my favorite teacup used to rest. My hands balled.
How was he doing this? It should be impossible.
Although there were legends of rare tools able to safely whisk humans between worlds. What if he’d found one?
At least I didn’t have to wonder about his identity. “Professor Taron Locke,” I muttered into the wind, as if speaking his name might summon him, allowing me to deal with the problem at last.
Nope. He didn’t appear.
I stood on the edge of my personal balcony, the highest point of Castle Ashmorra. No rail separated the ledge from the ether; when you could fly, you didn’t need one. A light breeze perfumed with linden blossoms and wild chamomile tugged strands of hair free from a myriad of pins. The crimson hue blended with the sunrise until it looked as if my entire body might ignite in soft fire. The illusion strengthened as the hem of my scarlet gown danced at my ankles.
I scanned my queendom, a dimension stitched like the finest silk to the human world. Below me, molten spires and ancient ruins coiled together in a symphony of gold. Crystalline rivers wound through obsidian meadows that bloomed year-round with violet emberlilies and white ashorchids. Berserkers trained on a soot-streaked field dotted with mist-veiled ghost trees. Mothers and children swam in a lake the same color as skyglass, while twin suns rose in a slow, simmering dawn, casting streaks of lavender across an expanse of dark blue.