Chapter 1

The Chosen Sacrifice

The bells of Ardenshire did not ring for funerals anymore.

Not after the war.

Now they rang for announcements.

Executions.

And sacrifices.

Evelynn Ashford stood at the edge of the crowded square, her hood pulled low against the cold wind as the cathedral bells echoed through the gray morning sky. Snow drifted lazily over the rooftops, melting against the muddy streets beneath hundreds of restless boots.

Nobody spoke above a whisper.

Not when royal soldiers lined the square with drawn swords.

Not when the crimson banner of the Crown hung above the execution platform.

And certainly not when the name of the Dragon Empire was about to be spoken.

Evelynn tightened her fingers around the leather satchel hanging at her side. Inside were dried herbs, medicine bottles, and the silver necklace that had belonged to her mother.

The only thing she had left of her.

A soldier shoved past her shoulder.

“Move.”

She stumbled sideways, catching herself before falling into the slush.

No apology came.

Commoners didn’t receive apologies.

Especially not from nobles.

A bitter smile flickered across her lips.

Typical.

The square continued filling until there was barely room to breathe. Merchants abandoned their stalls. Children hid behind their mothers. Even the priests standing beneath the cathedral arch looked pale.

Fear spread through the crowd like smoke.

Because everyone already knew.

The dragons had demanded another offering.

Three hundred years ago, after the Great Burning War reduced entire kingdoms to ash, the peace treaty between humans and dragons had been written in blood.

Every decade, the human kingdoms would send a chosen tribute to the Dragon King’s court.

Nobody knew what happened to those tributes afterward.

Only that none of them ever returned.

The bells stopped.

Silence swallowed the square.

Then the royal herald stepped onto the platform.

His voice rang sharp and cold through the frozen air.

“By decree of His Majesty King Cedric of Valoria…”

A ripple passed through the crowd.

Evelynn looked down.

She should leave.

Announcements like this never ended well.

But before she could turn—

“...the Dragon Empire has demanded fulfillment of the ancient covenant.”

The square went still.

Even the wind seemed to die.

“The chosen tribute shall depart before the next full moon.”

A woman near Evelynn began crying quietly.

Someone muttered a prayer.

Others lowered their heads.

Nobody wanted to meet anyone else’s eyes.

Because everyone was thinking the same thing:

Who would die this time?

The herald unrolled another parchment.

“The Crown has selected—”

His pause stretched cruelly long.

“—Evelynn Ashford.”

The world stopped.

For a moment, Evelynn thought she had imagined it.

Then the crowd moved away from her.

Like water retreating from poison.

Gasps erupted around the square.

“Her?”

“A healer?”

“She’s only twenty-two…”

“No family. No status. Easy choice.”

The whispers hit harder than knives.

Evelynn stood frozen, unable to breathe.

No.

No, this had to be a mistake.

She had done nothing.

She paid her taxes. Kept her head down. Treated the sick for almost no coin. She had never even traveled beyond the outer districts of Ardenshire.

Why her?

Two royal guards began forcing their way through the crowd toward her.

People stepped aside eagerly.

Nobody wanted to stand too close to the doomed girl.

Evelynn finally found her voice.

“There’s been a mistake.”

The first guard grabbed her arm.

“There hasn’t.”

Pain shot through her wrist.

“I’m not noble-born,” she snapped. “Tributes are chosen from the royal bloodlines.”

The second guard laughed harshly.

“Not anymore.”

Of course.

The nobles had found another way to save themselves.

Again.

Rage flared hot in her chest, burning through the numb terror.

Around her, richly dressed aristocrats watched from beneath fur-lined cloaks and polished carriages.

Safe.

Untouchable.

One noblewoman even looked relieved.

Evelynn wanted to scream.

Instead, she lifted her chin.

“If the Crown wishes me dead,” she said coldly, “they could at least admit it honestly.”

The first guard tightened his grip.

“Careful.”

“No,” Evelynn hissed. “You be careful.”

For a split second, surprise crossed his face.

Not because of her words.

Because she wasn’t crying.

The herald cleared his throat loudly.

“The tribute will be delivered to the Black Citadel at month’s end.”

Black Citadel.

The fortress of the Dragon King.

The place where people disappeared.

The place mothers used to threaten children about.

Behave… or the dragons will come.

Evelynn’s stomach twisted violently.

She had heard the stories.

Everyone had.

The Dragon King was cursed.

Mad.

A monster wearing the shape of a man.

They said entire halls burned when his temper broke.

That servants vanished overnight.

That even dragons feared him.

And now she was being sent to him.

Like livestock.

The guards dragged her forward through the crowd.

Faces blurred around her.

Pity.

Relief.

Fear.

But no one tried to help.

Not one.

Because surviving mattered more than kindness.

It always did.

As they reached the platform stairs, something slipped from Evelynn’s satchel.

A silver necklace fell into the snow.

Her mother’s necklace.

“No—”

She twisted violently, breaking one arm free long enough to grab it before a soldier’s boot crushed it into the slush.

The chain trembled in her fingers.

Moon-shaped silver.

Worn smooth with age.

Her mother had once told her:

Keep this close when the world turns cruel.

Evelynn swallowed hard.

Too late for that.

One of the guards scoffed. “Sentimental garbage.”

Without thinking, Evelynn looked up sharply.

“Touch it,” she said quietly, “and I’ll make sure your death hurts.”

The guard stared at her.

Then barked out a laugh.

But he stepped back.

For the first time since her name had been called, Evelynn realized something.

Beneath the fear…

She was angry.

Furious.

Not because she was going to die.

But because they thought she would go quietly.

Snow continued falling over the square as the cathedral bells began ringing once more.

Above the city, dark storm clouds gathered beyond the mountains to the north.

Beyond them—

the Dragon Empire waited.