Chapter 174 Dante
“Explain it.”
Lukas nodded once. “Dragon bonds are singular by nature,” he said. “One dragon. One element. One source of power.”
I knew that. Everyone knew that.
“But,” he continued, “there has been one exception.”
Of course there had.
“There was a Dragonborn king,” Lukas said, his voice steady. “Centuries ago. Before the territories were fully stabilized. Before the laws were written the way they are now.”
Lucian frowned slightly. “I’ve heard stories…”
“They’re not stories,” Lukas said.
My stomach dropped. “What was he bonded to?” I asked.
Lukas looked at me. “Death,” he said. “And fire.”
The room went quiet again. Because we all knew what that meant. Power. Destruction. Control. Instability.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
Lukas didn’t hesitate. “He didn’t survive it.”
That made my chest tighten instantly.
I glanced down at Seraphine, my grip tightening at my sides. “No,” I said immediately. “No—she’s not—”
“He didn’t survive because he wasn’t balanced,” Lukas cut in. “His elements clashed. Consumed each other. Consumed him.”
I forced myself to breathe. Once. Twice.
“Seraphine isn’t him.”
“No,” Lukas agreed.
My gaze snapped back to him.
“She’s not,” he repeated. “Which is why she’s still alive right now.”
Lucian stepped forward slightly. “Okay—then explain why she’s different.”
Lukas gestured toward Seraphine. “Her original bond isn’t death,” he said. “It’s fire.”
I frowned. “And?”
“And the second bond,” Lukas continued, his gaze sharpening slightly, “is Starborn.”
The word settled. Different. Heavier. Ancient.
“Starborn dragons don’t clash with other elements,” Lukas said. “They don’t compete for dominance. They… align.”
I glanced down at her again. Her hair. The mark. The fire.
“That egg…” I muttered.
“Yes,” Lukas said. “Was not just an egg.”
No shit.
“It was a Starborn vessel,” he continued. “Ancient. Rare. Nearly extinct.”
Lucian let out a low breath. “And it just… bonded to her?”
“It chose her,” Lukas corrected.
I swallowed. Hard.
“And now?” I asked.
Lukas’s gaze shifted back to Seraphine. “Now her body is trying to survive the merge.”
My chest tightened again. “That’s what this is?” I asked, my voice quieter now, rougher. “This—this burning, this—this—”
“Yes.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Lukas didn’t answer immediately. Which was answer enough.
My dragon growled low in my chest.
She will.
I clenched my jaw. “She has to,” I said, more to myself than anyone else.
Lukas nodded once. “She’s already doing better than anyone else who has ever attempted something like this.”
Attempted. Like this wasn’t supposed to happen. Like this wasn’t normal. Because it wasn’t. Nothing about this was.
Lucian ran a hand through his hair. “So we just… what? Sit here and wait?”
“No,” Lukas said.
All eyes turned to him again.
“You make sure she survives the transition.”
I stepped forward immediately. “How?”
Lukas met my gaze. “Keep her stable,” he said. “Temperature. Energy output. Do not suppress her fire, but do not let it spiral.”
Amara nodded slightly. “I can help with that.”
Lukas continued. “And you—” he said, looking directly at me now, “stay with her.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” he said. “But you need to understand something.”
I frowned slightly. “What?”
Lukas’s expression didn’t change.
“She’s not just your mate right now.”
That didn’t sit well.
“What is she then?”
He gestured toward her again. “Something ancient is integrating into her.”
My chest tightened again. “And if she wakes up wrong?” I asked.
Lukas held my gaze. “Then we deal with that when it happens.”
I didn’t like that answer. Didn’t like it at all. But I didn’t have another option.
"Let me explain about the Dual Bonded King from before." Lukas said.
I nodded, sitting down in the chair across from Seraphine, my eyes never leaving her face.
“The only other known case of dual-bonding didn’t end well,” Lukas began, his voice steady, slipping into something older, heavier. “He was Death-born. A king. Powerful, respected… controlled.”
Lucian leaned against the counter, arms crossed, already listening like he was piecing together a problem.
“What happened?” he asked.
Lukas continued, “He wasn’t looking for power. Not at first. He was collecting relics—artifacts tied to early dragon history. Things that were disappearing. Forgotten. He wanted to preserve them. Build a museum. A record of what came before us.”
Amara frowned slightly. “That actually sounds… kind of sweet.”
“It was,” Lukas said. “Until it wasn’t.”
I felt my jaw tighten. “Just get to the part where it goes wrong.”
Lukas nodded once. “He found an egg.”
Of course he did.
“A fire egg,” Lukas clarified. “Ancient. Dormant. Something that shouldn’t have still existed.”
Lucian muttered, “There’s always an egg.”
Lukas ignored him. “He reported it. Immediately. Followed protocol. Didn’t try to hide it, didn’t try to claim it.”
“So where did he screw up?” I asked.
Lukas’s gaze shifted slightly.
“He touched it.”
Silence. Heavy.
“Why?” Amara asked quietly.
“No one knows,” Lukas said. “Curiosity. Instinct. Something in him responding to it. Maybe it responded to him first.”
My grip on Seraphine’s hand tightened.
Because that part... That felt too familiar.
“He shouldn’t have,” Lukas continued. “But he did. And the moment he made contact…”
He paused.
“…it bonded with him.”
Lucian straightened slightly. “Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“And Death didn’t reject it?” I asked.
Lukas looked at me then. “That was the problem.”
My stomach dropped.
“Death doesn’t mix,” he said simply. “It consumes. It doesn’t share.”
I glanced down at Seraphine instinctively.
Fire flickered faintly along her skin. Still there. Still fighting.
“Death and fire,” Lukas continued, “are both dominant forces. They don’t balance each other. They clash. Constantly. Relentlessly.”
Lucian nodded slightly. “Like storm and fire.”
“Exactly,” Lukas said. “Or death and water. Some elements cannot coexist without one destroying the other.”
Amara tilted her head slightly. “So… nothing mixes with death then?”
Lukas didn’t answer immediately.
“Shadow does,” he finally says.
That made Lucian glance up.
“And,” Lukas added, his gaze flicking briefly toward Seraphine, “cosmic.”
The room stilled again.
“Starborn,” Lucian said under his breath.
Lukas nodded. “Cosmic energy doesn’t compete. It aligns. It creates balance rather than demanding dominance.”
I exhaled slowly. “So she’s not… tearing herself apart because—”
“Because her bonds aren’t fighting each other,” Lukas finished. “They’re trying to synchronize.”
That didn’t make me feel better. It just made this more complicated.
“What happened to him?” I asked again, quieter this time.