Vera was a dragon of unmatched promise, revered among her kind for her strength, intelligence, and beauty. In a world where dragons often preferred the grace and practicality of their human forms, Vera's presence was commanding in either guise. But her renown was not solely due to her abilities—it was also because she was the mate of Alaric, the crown prince of the dragons and the future king.
Alaric was an enigma. Cold and calculating to the world, he wielded his authority like a blade, precise and unyielding. Yet with Vera, he was different. He was soft. A fool, hopelessly in love. He would pull her into his arms without warning, his icy facade melting into warmth reserved only for her. Gifts piled at her feet—rare flowers that bloomed only in the moonlight, intricate jewelry forged in dragon fire, and silks finer than anything in the human realm. When words failed him, he would kiss her as if the act alone could convey everything he couldn't say.
And Vera welcomed it all. She loved him just as fiercely. Beneath his frigid exterior, she had glimpsed the man few others ever would. They were two halves of the same soul, bound not just by fate but by their shared love.
When Alaric ascended the throne and became the king of dragons, it was only natural that Vera became his queen. Their coronation was a spectacle that filled the skies with the thunder of wings and blazing firelight. No one questioned their union; it was as inevitable as the rising sun. Together, they ruled, their days an endless dream of shared joy and quiet moments of love.
But dreams, no matter how sweet, are fleeting.
When their son, Caleb, was born, Vera felt as though her heart had grown larger than her chest. Their child was perfect—a symbol of their love, of everything they had built together. But with Caleb's birth came a truth Vera hadn't fully prepared for: the dissolution of their mate bond.
It was an ancient magic that ensured dragons mated for life, a connection that allowed them to feel each other's emotions, to share their very essence. But when a mated pair bore a child, the bond would vanish, leaving only the love they had cultivated in its place. At first, it hadn't mattered. They were a family now, and Vera thought their love was strong enough to weather the change.
She was wrong.
At first, the differences were subtle—Alaric's lingering glances at her grew less frequent, his smiles more restrained. Then, his absences lengthened. The warmth he had once reserved only for her began to fade, leaving her shivering in the cold shadow of his distance. Vera tried everything she could to reignite the flame between them. She dressed in the gowns he once admired, prepared his favorite meals, even teased him with playful banter that had once made him laugh. But Alaric remained aloof, his attention slipping further and further away.
Her insecurities, once buried deep, began to fester. She lay awake at night, staring at the canopy of their grand bed, wondering if she was no longer enough.
The breaking point came on an ordinary day, in the grand hall where dragons gathered to discuss matters of the realm. Vera entered, her heart heavy with the weight of her worries, only to find Alaric standing near one of the female generals. The woman was laughing, her voice a musical chime that echoed off the marble walls. Alaric stood close, closer than he had stood with Vera in months, and though his expression was composed, there was a softness in his gaze that Vera hadn't seen directed at her in years.
Something inside Vera snapped.
She strode across the room, her footsteps echoing like thunder. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and struck the general's cheek with such force that the sound reverberated through the hall. Conversations ceased. All eyes turned to her.
The general staggered, her expression a mix of shock and pain, but Vera barely noticed. Her fiery gaze was locked on Alaric.
"Who is she?!" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of fury and heartbreak.
Alaric blinked, stunned, before his expression hardened into something cold and unreadable. He stepped forward, placing himself protectively between Vera and the general. "Vera, she's just a general. Nothing more."
"Just a general?" Vera's voice cracked, her anger giving way to raw vulnerability. "Then why are you shielding her from me?"
Alaric sighed, a sound that cut deeper than any blade. His eyes, once so full of love for her, now held a flicker of something she couldn't bear to name—annoyance. "I think you should leave."
The words hit her like a physical blow.
Vera stared at him, her breath hitching as tears welled in her eyes. But she refused to let them fall. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode away, her hands trembling as she clenched them into fists.
When she was out of sight, Vera allowed herself to crumble. She leaned against the cool stone wall of the corridor, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. Her heart felt as though it had been ripped from her chest, leaving a hollow ache in its place.
What had gone so wrong? How had they gone from a love that could defy the stars to this?
For the first time, Vera wondered if the dream was over—and if the only thing left was a nightmare