Chapter 50 SACRED WATERS, PROFANED BLOOD

Chapter 50 SACRED WATERS, PROFANED BLOOD

SACRED WATERS, PROFANED BLOOD

KAELIA'S POV

I had not planned to go to the bathing caverns that day. That was the lie I told myself as I walked there. I told myself I was only passing through, because I needed a moment of quiet. But none of that was true.

When I woke up that morning, I felt a wrongness in the air that always came with Seraphine.

The thought of the wolf girl still residing alive in Drakoria made my scales itch.

Steam rolled through the caverns in thick waves, carrying the scent of minerals and heat. The pools glowed faintly because Dragons bathed here when they wished to heal or shed old skin. Because of this reason, this place was sacred ground and not meant for creatures like her. And yet there she was, clouding the entire place with her cursed scent.

I saw Seraphine standing knee-deep in the water, her back to me, her dark hair clinging to her skin. She looked smaller than I remembered, thinner somehow, like the mountain itself was testing her weight. For one brief moment, something close to satisfaction stirred in my chest, because she looked breakable and vulnerable.

Then she turned around to face me.

Her eyes met mine, and the steam between us thickened as if it sensed the shift. She stiffened immediately, fear flashing across her face before she could hide it. Good. She should be afraid of me. Every creature in this mountain knew better than to meet my gaze without bowing.

“Well,” I said, letting my voice carry easily through the cavern, smooth and sharp all at once. “If it isn’t the king’s little mongrel.”

Her shoulders tightened, but she didn’t lower her head. That alone made irritation spark hotter. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said. Her voice shook, but she forced the words out anyway. “Azrath—”

I laughed, the sound echoing off the stone. “You don’t get to speak his name like you own it,” I said. “Especially not in a place like this.”

I stepped closer, letting the heat of my dragon form leak through my skin just enough to make the air shimmer. I wanted her to feel the difference between us, to understand it fully. Pure dragon blood versus whatever cursed mixture ran through her veins.

“I can perceive the troubled aura around you,” I continued with delight, circling the edge of the pool. “Like ash pretending to be fire, you're a wolf just pretending to be something more.”

She swallowed hard. I could hear her heart now, beating fast and uneven. Still, she didn’t move away. That stubbornness again made my scales crawl.

“I didn’t choose this,” she said quietly.

I stopped, before slowly turning to face her fully. “None of us choose our blood,” I replied. “But some of us are born worthy of it.”

I then shifted, letting parts of my true form surface. Scales rippled along my arms, glowing faintly, my eyes burning brighter. I watched her flinch, watched her fingers curl into fists beneath the water.

“You see this?” I said, lifting one clawed hand. “This is purity. This is what Drakoria was built on. And you think you can stand here beside it?”

Something in her snapped.

She moved without warning, launching herself out of the water with a raw cry, her claws half-formed, baring her fangs. For a heartbeat, surprise flickered through me. Then instinct took over.

I caught her mid-air and slammed her into the stone wall with enough force to crack it. She gasped, letting out a sharp sound, but she didn’t go limp. She struck back, like a wild and untrained animal, her fist connecting with my jaw hard enough to make my head snap sideways.

That surprised me more.

I growled and drove my knee into her stomach, sending her sprawling. She hit the ground hard, skidding across wet stone. Before she could rise, I was on her, pinning her down with my weight, my claws digging into the rock beside her head.

“Stay down,” I snarled.

She coughed out, blood smearing across her lips, but her eyes burned up at me with something fierce and unbroken. “No.”

She twisted, ramming her head into my chest and shoving with strength that had no right to exist in a body like hers. We rolled, water splashing, cracking the stones. She landed a strike against my ribs, then another, each one weaker than the last as exhaustion caught her.

I needed to end this quickly.

I grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back into the ground, holding her there as the stone beneath her cracked in a spiderweb pattern. Her hands clawed at my wrist, her breath coming in short, broken pulls. She was shaking now, spent and bleeding, but still glaring at me like she would rather die than beg.

Her moves were pathetic and it only infuriated me.

“Yield,” I said but she didn’t answer.

I was about to break her arm when the air changed.

A sudden heat surged through the cavern, overwhelming the both of us. The pools hissed before the steam parted.

Azrath’s presence filled the space before I even saw him.

“Enough.”

His voice struck like a blade.

I froze, my grip still locked around Seraphine’s throat as he stepped into view. His cold and sharp eyes were fixed on me, not even sparing her a glance at first.

Slowly and deliberately, I released her and stood up. Seraphine collapsed where she lay, coughing and shaking, she was unable to rise.

Azrath crossed the distance in seconds and placed himself between us without hesitation. That stung more than I expected.

“Leave here this instant,” he said to me, his tone flat and final.

I stared at him, disbelief burning through my chest. “She attacked me.”

His gaze never wavered. “Leave.”