Darius knelt behind Imogen, his hand steady but urgent on her shoulder.

  She was shaking.

  Not from fear, from guilt.

  He gently turned her toward him, voice low and grounding. “Imogen. Breathe. What happened?”

  She clutched her satchel like a lifeline, knuckles white. Her lips parted, but the words caught in her throat before finally tumbling out in a breathless, choked rush.

  “I was trying the Emberwake Song,” she whispered. “The one from my mother’s notes. I just… I wanted to know if I could actually use it. I wasn’t trying to awaken anything in her, I swear I didn’t know it would react to her like that.”

  Darius’s jaw tightened. “But the Emberwake Imogen, that’s a trigger. It’s meant to awaken a dragon’s true strength.” His eyes flicked to Malachite, writhing in agony beneath the burning sigils. “Does that even work on drakes? That’s too much magic for anyone.”

  “I know that now!” Imogen snapped, her voice cracking as panic took over. “She was just sitting beside me when it hit. It grabbed onto her, Darius! Like it knew. I tried to stop it, I tried to redirect the flow-” Her breath hitched. “But it didn’t matter. Her aura just tore through mine. It’s not reacting to me anymore, it’s absorbing me.”

  Darius blinked, then his eyes narrowed, tracking the glowing copper sigils crawling over Malachite’s skin like burning vines.

  His voice dropped. “These markings…”

  He stepped closer, studying the shapes with unease.

  “They’re not normal draconic runes,” he muttered. “They almost look like… blood sigils.”

  Imogen froze. “What?”

  Darius’s brow furrowed deeply, his tone turning grim. “My mother had them banned years ago. Said they were from an ancient line of power that preyed on dragons. Magic fueled by bloodlines and binding rites, dangerous, unstable.” He pointed to one near Malachite’s neck as it shifted again. “That one… that’s a seal-breaker. It’s not supposed to exist anymore.”

  Imogen stared at him, horror blooming in her expression. “You think she-?”

  “I don’t know,” Darius said tightly. “But something inside her just woke up and it doesn’t look like it wants to stop.”

  Malachite screamed again, her back arching as the sigils flared brighter, almost throbbing with life.

  Imogen clenched her eyes shut, shaking her head. “I can’t even heal her. Her magic’s eating every spell I cast like it’s starving. And I-I used all my healing potions.” She tore open her satchel with a trembling hand to show the emptiness inside, broken vials and all. “Everything’s gone.”

  She let out a broken sob. “I’m scared she’s dying and I don’t even know how to help her.”

  The words echoed like a thunderclap.

  Axel heard them.

  His breath hitched as he knelt beside Malachite, still reaching for her despite the heat radiating off her skin. “No,” he whispered, voice shaking. “She’s not dying. Don’t say that.”

  But Imogen’s voice repeated in his mind, each word tearing deeper.

  I’m scared she’s dying… and I don’t even know how to help her.

  And with the scent of scorched earth in his lungs and the woman he couldn’t lose unraveling in front of him and felt helpless.

  And that helplessness burned hotter than the fire around her.

  The earth shuddered, tremors rippling through the ruined battlefield as the roar returned closer, deeper, heavier.

  Then a thunderous CRACK as a massive stone outcropping near the treeline exploded, metal shards and earth raining down as something colossal forced its way through with terrifying force.

  From the dust and ruin emerged a drake of staggering size, his scales a deep, scorched bronze streaked with veins of silver and dull iron. His claws were like jagged blades, every step carving into the ground. His eyes were of molten steel and locked instantly on the one figure writhing in the dirt.

  “WHAT IN THE GODS’ NAME DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTER?!”

  His voice was an earthquake of pure rage, shaking the battlefield as if it might rip the sky open.

  Axel moved without thinking, throwing himself in front of Malachite, arms out, snarling through his teeth even as the copper sigils continued burning across her skin. His stance said one thing: you will not touch her.

  Imogen stood frozen, shaking, her hands still tingling from the magic she couldn’t control, the broken vials around her glittering like the aftermath of a storm.

  Darius’s face hardened. His steps were slow, deliberate, posture straightening into that of a king. “You dare come roaring like that and threaten my people?” His voice was steel. “We were trying to help her.”

  “Help her?” the Smith snarled, stomping closer. The earth split beneath his claws. “You unleashed magic that was sealed for a reason! You triggered something that could kill her!”

  His glowing eyes locked onto the burning copper sigils writhing over his daughter’s skin. “You awakened blood magic. Do you even know what that means?!”

  Darius’s eyes snapped to the sigils, his expression turning cold. “Those marks were banned under my mother’s reign. Blood sigils are forbidden in every kingdom with my signature on the last decree.” His voice lowered dangerously. “And you allowed this to be sealed in her without my knowledge?”

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  The Smith bared his teeth. “You don’t get to act high and mighty now, kingling. Where was your protection when Dragon Singers were hunted? When my mate died, sealing that power so she wouldn’t be taken?”

  “She wasn’t taken,” Darius growled. “But she might be dying now because of you.”

  Imogen took a step forward, her body trembling, not with fear, but with rage. Her voice cracked like lightning. “Don’t you dare blame this on us. I’ve done everything I can to keep her alive. I’ve used every potion I had. I tried to heal her, to calm the effect. She’s consuming my aura,” she snapped. “I’ve poured every drop of my magic into her, and it’s not enough. So if you’ve been keeping secrets about what’s inside her, then you’re the one who put her in danger.”

  The Smith’s eyes burned hotter, but he didn’t argue.

  He knew.

  Malachite whimpered behind Axel, and Axel’s hands clenched into fists.

  His voice was low, but lethal. “She’s in agony because of this, because of you. And you still think you’re the only one who gets to decide what happens to her?”

  Axel’s fury simmered, rising like heat from stone. “You think your guilt gives you the right to scream threats at the people trying to save her? She’s not just your daughter anymore and I’m not letting you drag her off like she’s broken.”

  The Smith’s snarl returned, voice laced with a cold promise. “If I don’t get her out of here she will break. And if she dies because of your arrogance…”

  He looked between Darius, Imogen, and Axel.

  “…None of you walk away.”

  The threat landed like a blade.

  And not one of them backed down. Imogen shoved past Darius, her golden aura flaring around her like wildfire. Her eyes burned as she stared down the massive metal drake, unshaken by his towering form.

  “How dare you stand here and say you care for her,” she spat, voice trembling with fury, “when all you’ve ever done is crush her.”

  The Smith’s eyes narrowed, but Imogen didn’t stop.

  “You told her she wasn’t worthy of love. That she was less than. That the only way to survive was to put her head down and fight. She’s been hurting her whole life because the one person she looked up to made her believe she was never enough.”

  Her voice cracked.

  “She only had you after Sorya died. And instead of being her light, you became her shadow.”

  She stepped forward, the wind shifting around her like it feared her wrath.

  “But now she has us. She has people who see her. And if you don’t start telling us what the hell is going on” her hands clenched at her sides, glowing, “I will make you wish you had.”

  For the first time, the Smith faltered and his snarl wavered. His eyes, burning like molten steel, flickered with something uncertain. And behind all his fury, hurt crept in.

  “…Fine,” the Smith muttered at last, Imogen’s words still hanging in the air like the edge of a blade. “I’ll humor your bravery, Dragon Singer.”

  He looked down at Malachite, still glowing, still burning, the copper sigils refusing to fade.

  “But I will be taking her back,” he added coldly. “Before you kill her and release that damned prophecy.”

  He continued, voice heavy with guilt as memories flooded in, “She was born under a blood eclipse,” he said quietly. “The night Sorya screamed her into the world, the sky turned copper. Every forge in the mountain cracked. Every old ward flared like it was being summoned.”

  His eyes remained on his daughter.

  “She came early. Furious. Loud. Hungry. And…” His voice wavered. “Glowing.”

  Axel’s breath caught, and Imogen stood utterly still.

  “I knew Sorya was strong,” the Smith continued. “She served your mother, Darius, one of her elite guards. A dragon forged in war, blessed by the gods of flame and fury.”

  Darius didn’t speak, but the frost trailing down his armor said enough. His ice magic glinted at his shoulders like frostbite creeping over steel.

  “And I was a smith,” the man said. “A metal drake. Grounded. Not meant for fire or prophecy. Our bond wasn’t expected. But it was real.”

  He drew in a sharp breath.

  “We thought our daughter might have a spark of a dragon in her. Maybe a flicker. But the moment she cried her first breath she sang.”

  “She was born with copper dragon magic,” Imogen whispered, horrified.

  The Smith nodded. “Not a Singer. Something older. Rarer. The Protector is a copper dragon tied to the ancient bloodlines, born to defend Singers and shift the balance of power.”

  Darius’s eyes narrowed. “And you hid her. From the kingdom. From my mother.”

  The Smith growled. “Because every king before you slaughtered copper dragons the moment they were found.”

  He turned his glare fully on Darius now. “Copper dragons are too powerful. Too rare. Too tied to the throne by old magic. I wasn’t going to let her be turned into a weapon… or a challenge.”

  Imogen stared at him, heart pounding. “So you kept her magic sealed all these years?”

  The Smith nodded once. “An elder helped us bind it. Made her a weak drake with barely enough magic to hold a form. Safer that way. She’d live, small and overlooked.”

  “She’s been suffering,” Imogen hissed. “Feeling broken, useless, less than.”

  Axel’s voice cracked as he looked down at Malachite, her body still trembling, copper sigils flickering like lightning across her skin.

  “She never got to feel it,” he whispered. “Not once.”

  Silence fell.

  “What did you say?” the Smith growled.

  Axel didn’t look up.

  “I said… she never felt the mate bond. Because of the seal. Because of what you did.”

  The Smith took a single, thundering step forward, the earth splitting beneath his foot.

  Darius shifted immediately, ice trailing his fingertips as he stepped between them again but Axel didn’t flinch. His gaze remained on Malachite, fingers still wrapped protectively around hers.

  The Smith’s eyes blazed, molten fury boiling behind them.

  “You’re- you’re claiming her?” he snarled. “You think you’re bonded to my daughter?!”

  Axel finally looked up and met him head-on.

  “I don’t think. I know.”

  The Smith bared his teeth.“You arrogant little soldier,” the Smith snarled, voice low and seething. “You think I’d ever let her be tied to you?!”

  He stepped forward, each word rising like a storm rolling toward land.

  “Your parents betrayed the crown. They sided with rebels. They butchered innocent dragons, children. They got your sister killed.”

  His voice cracked, sharp with venom.

  “And when they were caught, what did they do? They didn’t fight. They didn’t repent. They sold you. Sold their own son like a coin to wash their blood from the books!”

  Axel didn’t move but his face paled.