“My father got himself into trouble. Serious trouble, this time. He owes two hundred gold to some very dangerous men, and they’ve given him one week to pay, or they’ll kill him. A few nights with clients won’t be anywhere near enough to cover that kind of debt.”
“Tressa, no. Don’t tell me you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking. There has to be another way.”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m going to the nearest bride market.” I make myself say it out loud, make it real. “I’ll put myself up for auction and sell myself to the highest bidder. I’m young, and I’m pretty, and I know how to charm men and make them wantme. I should fetch a good price, enough to pay off what my father owes, and maybe even have some left over.”
“You can’t do that.” Alana’s voice cracks. She looks like she wants to shake me. “Let me help you. I can take on more clients, we can figure something out together. You don’t have to sell yourself to some monster you’ve never met.”
“There’s no other way, and we both know it. Even if you and I worked every single night for the next week, it wouldn’t be enough. They’re going to kill him, Alana. I can’t let that happen, no matter what he’s done or how angry I am at him. I need you to do something for me instead.”
“What?” She’s still holding my hands tight enough that it almost hurts.
“Take care of him after I’m gone. Please. Make sure he doesn’t drink himself to death or get into more trouble. And I’ll send you money as soon as I have it, as much as I can, for you and your family.”
“Tressa, please don’t do this.” Her eyes are bright, but no tears fall. “There has to be another option.”
“There isn’t.”
I pull her into my arms and let myself cling to her. She’s my best friend, the only person in this world who knows me and understands what I’ve been through. After tomorrow, I might never see her again. I might never get to talk to her, laugh with her, or share the weight of our survival together. The thought makes my chest ache, but I still don’t let myself cry.
“I hate this,” Alana whispers against my shoulder.
“I know. But I have to go through with it. You know I have to.”
She holds me tighter and doesn’t argue anymore. I’ve made up my mind and nothing she says will change it. I close my eyes and breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume, trying to memorize this moment.
My heart is heavy with everything I’m about to lose. I hate that my life has come to this, that selling myself to a literal monster is the only option I have left.
But if I know anything about myself after all these years of surviving, it’s that I always do what I must. No matter how much it costs me.
Chapter Two
Altair
I walk down the long corridor toward the north wing, my wings folded against my back and my tail swishing behind me with each step. The palace sprawls across the mountain like a golden beast. I could shift and fly there in moments, but I choose to walk today. Every balcony is designed for landing and takeoff, with wide platforms that catch the wind.
Polished floors stretch ahead of me, gleaming in the noon light. Sunlight pours through tall windows to catch on the tapestries that line the walls. They depict the history of Aurumveil in golden thread and rich colors, showing dragons in flight and wyverns locked in ancient battles. My ancestors stare down from painted frames, with cold eyes and proud wings, their expressions frozen in eternal judgment of those who walk these halls.
I pause at a balcony where fluted columns frame the view beyond, and watch dragons soar through the sky, their scales flashing in the sun like scattered jewels. The mountains rise in the distance, covered in dense forest.
I hate that my mother never flies anymore, and that she’s locked herself away in the north wing, like a prisoner who has forgotten she holds the key. She used to take to the sky every morning when I was a child, her white wings catching the light as she circled the towers, and I would watch her from the nursery window in awe. Now she stays in those closed rooms and tends to my father like it’s her penance. I’ve told her a hundred times that she doesn’t need to do it, that she could leave him to the servants and reclaim her life. But she won’t listen. She never does, and I’ve learned that some prisons are built from the inside.
The north wing feels different from the rest of the palace. It has nothing to do with architecture, and everything to do with the weight of misery that hangs in the air. I reach the doors and knock twice.
An old servant opens as if she’s been waiting on the other side. Her skin is covered in dull scales that have lost their shine with age. Klara is a lesser dragon shifter who has served my family since before I was born. She bows her head and steps aside.
“Lord Altair,” she says.
“Is my mother receiving visitors?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
My mother always receives me, always ready to pour tea and pretend that everything is fine.
“Of course, my lord. Lady Helena will be pleased to see you.”
I follow her through the entrance hall and into my mother’s sitting room. The ceiling soars high above us, but the windows are shut tight against the spring air. The room smells like lavender and old paper. Books are stacked on tables, while shelves line the walls with leather-bound volumes that I suspect she never reads. An embroidery frame sits near my mother’s chair, with half-finished flowers stretched across the fabric. I wonder if she actually enjoys the work, or if it’s just something to do with her hands while the hours crawl past.
My mother rises when she sees me. Her golden hair falls past her shoulders, with gray threads running through it at her temples. She’s thin and frail, wrinkles have settled around her eyes, and her white wings are tucked close to her back as if she’s forgotten how to spread them.
“Altair,” she welcomes me. “What a lovely surprise.”
