I amPrincess Tamsin of Valdoria. Witch-born, Fire-Bringer blooded, and the last surviving heir to a throne that no longer exists.
My mother was a witch—one of the most powerful in three generations. My father carried Fire-Bringer blood, dormant in his veins but alive in mine. The combination should have been impossible. Instead, it made me something rare. Something valuable.
Something hunted.
The Relic responds to both bloodlines. Witch magic to seal it. Fire-Bringer flame to control it. I’m the only one who can do both—the only one who can keep the Crown dormant while the Shadow Clan tears the world apart searching for it.
I was supposed to have a lifetime to learn how to wield this power. Instead, I have three days of exhaustion and a rapidly depleting well of magic.
I need help. I need allies. I need the only people in the world who’ve successfully fought the Shadow Clan and won.
I need the Brotherhood.
The Brotherhood will never helpme.
I know this. Have known it since the moment I decided to seek them out. Because of all the dragons who guard the realms, all the warriors who might stand against the Shadow Clan, I’m asking for help from the one family my bloodline has already destroyed.
Auren Valek. The Brotherhood’s strategist. Cold, calculating, and utterly without mercy when it comes to witches.
I know why he hates us. Know the story even though I wish I didn’t.
My sister Morrigan killed his.
Morrigan, who was supposed to inherit the Crown before her magic twisted into something dark. Morrigan, who murdered Auren’s younger sister in a ritual meant to steal the girl’s fire. Morrigan, who fled our kingdom rather than face justice and has been allied with the Shadow Clan ever since.
My sister started this war. My sister turned Auren Valek into the witch-hating dragon he is today. And now I’m going to knock on his door and beg for sanctuary.
He’ll want to kill me. Might actually try. And I won’t entirely blame him if he does.
But the Relic matters more than my life. More than his hatred. More than the blood debt my sister carved into his heart.
If the Shadow Clan gets the Crown, everything—Valdoria, the Brotherhood, the fragile peace between dragons and humans—all of it burns. And I’m the only one who can stop that from happening.
The Brotherhood fortressrises from the mountains like a warning.
I’m half-dead by the time I reach the gates. Blood from a wound on my side has soaked through my makeshift bandages. My magic is nearly depleted—just enough left to maintain the Relic’s wards, nothing more. If anyone attacks me now, I’ll die.
The guards at the gate are dragon-shifters, their eyes tracking my approach with predatory focus. One of them inhales sharply when I get close enough to scent.
“Witch.” The word drips with contempt. “And... Fire-Bringer?”
“Both.” I straighten my spine despite the pain. I am a princess. I will not grovel, no matter how desperate my situation. “I need to speak with your leaders. I have information about a Relic.”
The guards exchange glances. Uncertainty wars with hostility in their expressions.
“The Relic,” one repeats. “And you expect us to believe?—“
“I don’t expect anything.” My vision is starting to blur at the edges. Blood loss. Exhaustion. I don’t have time for this. “But if you turn me away, the Shadow Clan will have the Crown within a fortnight. King Ulrik will have the power to destroy everything you’ve built. Is that what you want to explain to your Guardian King?”
Silence. Then one guard peels away, disappearing into the fortress. The other keeps his eyes fixed on me, hand on his weapon, ready to strike at the first sign of treachery.
I wait. Sway on my feet. Focus on breathing, on keeping the wards around the Relic intact, on not collapsing before I’ve delivered my message.
I came here to save the world. I might die on this doorstep instead.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
The doors open,and he emerges.
