FIERY ORBS

The basement is clocked with darkness. Cielle feels as if she is a shadow flitting through the dark paths; murky and unnerving.

The space is heavy with the scent of metal and dust, even though she cannot see it through the haze of darkness, she can taste it on her tongue— tangy and unpleasant.

As Cielle walks through the cold, stone passage of the basement, she wonders what is even hidden behind these high walls, what kind of atrocities are the Lords hiding away from the local's eyes.

When her uncle, the High Fae and lord of Wisteria, told her that he had a gift for her birthday, she never thought it would be hidden inside of a basement like this.

The more they stroll inside the dark space, the more unsettling Cielle feels. Each step feels heavier, each breath seeming treacherous and the silence ringing in the vastness of the space makes her heart roar from inside her chest out of fear.

Her uncle has never shown her any affection, nor presented her anything for any of her birthdays. Maybe it was because they were not as special as the eighteenth. But then again, he was never kind to her. Even when she was breaking down from the loss of her mother, he didn't even lend a word of consolation.

The Lord of Wisteria is mysterious, dangerous, and intimidating. She has always kept her away from his presence.

But when he knocked on the door of her chamber later this evening with a smile on his face which she had never witnessed before, and told her he had a present for her, she didn't think twice before following him out here. But now, she kind of regrets it.

What if he is intending to murder her?

"Cielle?"

She halts in her tracks, head snapping to his side and her eyes boring into the outline of his face, "Yes, Uncle."

"Remember your mother signed a treaty with the court which says only her offering will be able to inherit the throne and I'm just a replaceable Lord till you come of your age?" Even though he tried to conceal the hostility that seeped into his voice with a forced smile, Cielle heard it loud and clear.

No one was happy about the treaty her mother made since Cielle was her only offspring and it meant she would be the only name to the throne. In the history of Wisteria, there was not a single woman who took over the throne and became the High Fae Lord. Nobody let that happen. Cielle does not know how she managed to make a treaty like that.

"Since your mother wants you to take over the throne, you need to prove your worth, little Cielle." Lord Jaiden's voice rises in the space like a threat more than a statement. "And it starts from today… since you are not little anymore."

The sound of metal clanking against metal resounds in the air like a crash of thunder. The hair on the back of Cielle's neck stands up when a lamp flickers from above the high wall and lights up the dungeon in front of them, swallowing up the darkness.

And good Lord, what she sees inside them has her heart skidding to a stop, breath getting stuck in her chest. Inside the large space of the lockup is a dragon sprawled out on the hard stone— a living, breathing, dragon, a creature she only read about in the fantasy books she hid under her bed. She has seen many wyverns since all the knights has one of them. But a dragon is an entire different story for her.

Its enormous midnight black wings which are sprinkled with glittery, golden flicks are drawn close to its body as if the space is barely serving it right. If it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of its body, she would have thought it was a sculpture.

It looks enchanting.

She cannot believe it is real.

She cannot believe this is the gift her uncle has for her.

"Do you like it, Cielle?"

Her gaze cuts to her uncle, unsure of what to answer. She doesn't know why she is being gifted a dragon. Does she need to ride it? A strange excitement skims under her skin at the mere thought of riding a dragon. Just how far can it get here? Would it be high enough that she could touch the clouds?

"You must like it, Cielle. These kinds of gifts are one in a million. You should be grateful." His words bring her back down to the earth, away from the sky.

"I like it, uncle. Thank you."

"You have to tame it, Cielle. It's not like any other dragons, you have to be very careful."

Dread crawls onto her skin like some creepy insect that she cannot smack away when she processes his words. The dragon is not already tamed. And taming it would be nothing less than a death sentence. And taming a dragon this big with little knowledge about them would be like serving a death note on a golden platter.

"Why? Why is it not already tamed?" She dares to ask.

"Seems like my little Cielle knows nothing about our court rules." A loud laugh escapes from the Lord's lips and Cielle flinches. "It is a way of proving your power by taming deadly creatures like dragons. Your father tamed and bonded with one before taking over the throne. The dragon is our biggest weapon for the war."

The memories of her father soaring through the endless blue sky with a certain red dragon flash behind her eyes. Good god, what was her mother thinking when she made that treaty with the court? Will she even survive the training to take over the thorn at all?

A hand nudges her forward to the cell, "Go, get to know that thing first."

What?

The Lord pushes her toward the cell with a little more force when she keeps staring at the dragon with horror-filled orbs, her limbs motionless. "I said go and get to know that thing, Cielle."

"Can't it shift to its human form first so that we can get to know each other?" She mumbles.

"He is too festy to shift. Too stubborn. And too hot-blooded." He says, fingers threading through his hair, "You have to change that, my little Cielle. You have to have him in the palm of your hand."

"But I don't—" He cuts her off with a sharp click of his tongue.

"No buts, Cielle. Just do what I said."

Fear flares inside her and eats up her insides, yet still, she takes a cautious step toward the sleeping monster waiting for her behind the locked cell.

"We do not have all the time in the world, Cielle. Make it fast." The impatient taps of the Lord's boots are drowned out by the roar of her heart.

If her uncle is urging her like this, it would not be that dangerous, right? Maybe the dragon was a deep slumber. Mustering up all the courage left in her lethe body, Cielle wraps her shaky fingers around the lock and twists the key that her uncle thrust into her hands.

Even when the cell creaks and announces the arrival of a visitor, the dragon stays unbothered; Deep in slumber. And Cielle wonders if it was under some drugs.

From this close, she can see the shackles circling around its body and the magical shine of its scales under the flickering candlelight. The more she stares into the creature in front of her, the more her fear melts into fascination. How is it possible for such beauty to exist in this dark world? She doesn't know.

The steps Cielle takes toward the creature start to feel less heavy and more out of curiosity. She halts just before the face of the dragon, bending her spin and reaching her hand out to gently run her fingers over the shiny scales, not knowing where this sudden surge of courage came from. It's so soft, almost slippery even though it's dry. Her fingers skip down in between its eyes and gently scratch, "It must be uncountable for you out here." She finds herself whispering, "It's cold and hard. Isn't it?"

She keeps skidding her fingers up and down its head and then to its horns; they are curved majestically, shimmering like glitters. "You are so beautiful…" It's more of a breath of words than a whisper, barely audible.

She leans further down, her puckered lips are only inches away from its head when those beady eyes flutter open. She feels all the air in her lungs being snatched away as her gaze locks with those gleaming golden orbs, her heart burning.

A thunderous growl wreaks through the creature, it is so loud that it feels as if the dungeon is crumbling down upon them. Fear strikes through Cielle's body like an ugly bolt of lightning, she flinches back and falls down on the cold, gravel floor.

The dragon lifts up its massive body, trying to shake the shackles away as if it is made out of dust. Like this, the creature looks terrifying, all the enchanting beauty twisting into a monster ready to burn her down.

"No, no, no…" She chants beneath her breath as the creature cranes its neck forward, their faces so close that one snap of its teeth can end her blooming life…

Good god, I'm too young to die.

***

A/n: And the drama starts from here! Like fantancy romance with a lot of twist and turns and spice? This is the right one for you!

What to expect:

Worldbuilding

Fiery romance

Angst

Twists

Spicy scenes

Interesting characters

And a happily ever after!