The morning after the attack, Thornhaven lay in uneasy quiet. Smoke rose from smoldering ruins, and villagers worked to rebuild what they could. Seris stood at the edge of the forest, her fingers brushing the glowing mark on her shoulder. It pulsed faintly, as if alive, tethering her to the massive dragon crouched nearby.
"You're quiet," the dragon remarked, its golden eyes glinting in the morning light.
"Quiet doesn't mean content," Seris replied sharply.
The dragon huffed, a plume of smoke escaping its nostrils. "A bond of this nature requires more than anger. Survival demands trust."
Seris turned to face it, her sword at her side. "Trust? You've burned my home and bound me to you without my consent. Why should I trust you?"
The dragon's gaze softened, a flicker of something almost human in its eyes. "Because I did not burn your home for pleasure, girl. Thornhaven stands because of my restraint. The true fires come for all of us, and you are the only one who can wield my power against them."
Before Seris could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted them. A young man with sandy hair and a bow slung over his shoulder emerged from the trees. His tunic was torn, and his expression wild.
"Seris!" he gasped. "The scouts saw movement near the old ruins. Enyx's forces might be regrouping."
Seris recognized him—Dain, one of the village hunters. His presence stirred a mix of relief and discomfort. They had grown up together, but the chaos of recent days had strained every bond.
"Are you sure?" Seris asked, gripping her sword tighter.
Dain nodded. "The wolves are circling. And there's talk of a warlord rallying them—a beast stronger than any we've seen."
The dragon rose to its full height, towering over them both. "Then we cannot delay. The ruins lie on the path to Mount Valtara, and the storm will strike there first."
"You expect us to go now?" Dain asked, glaring at the dragon. "With what army? Or do you plan to burn them all for us?"
Seris shot him a warning glance, but the dragon only chuckled. "Your courage amuses me, mortal. But courage without action is as useless as a sword without a blade. Prepare yourselves."
Reluctantly, Seris and Dain followed the dragon's lead, gathering supplies and leaving the village under Elda's care. As they trekked deeper into the forest, the air grew heavier, charged with magic that made Seris's skin crawl.
"What were you thinking?" Dain muttered, walking beside her. "Teaming up with that… thing."
"I didn't have a choice," Seris shot back, her voice low. "The mark binds us. If I die, so does the dragon. And if we fail, Thornhaven will burn—for real this time."
Dain hesitated, his frustration softening. "You're carrying too much, Seris. It's not fair."
She glanced at him, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. "Fair or not, I'll see this through. For the village. For everyone."
Dain looked like he wanted to say more, but the dragon's deep voice interrupted. "Quiet, both of you. We are not alone."
Seris's hand went to her sword as she scanned the shadows. A low growl rumbled from the trees, and out stepped a figure wrapped in wolf pelts. His eyes were piercing amber, and his presence radiated menace.
"Ah, the dragon's bonded," the man said, his voice smooth and dangerous. "I am Fenrik, Warlord of the Wyrmfangs. You've entered my domain."
Seris raised her sword. "We're not afraid of you."
Fenrik laughed, a guttural sound that sent a chill through her. "Brave words, little warrior. But bravery won't save you."
In a blur, Fenrik transformed, his body expanding into a hulking beast with claws like daggers. The forest exploded into chaos as Wyrmfang wolves poured from the underbrush.
"Hold the line!" the dragon roared, unleashing a wave of fire that scorched the charging wolves.
Seris fought with everything she had, the mark on her shoulder burning brighter as she channeled the dragon's power. Beside her, Dain loosed arrows with deadly precision, his eyes focused and unyielding.
Amid the battle, Fenrik lunged at Seris, his claws aimed for her heart. She dodged just in time, her sword slicing his arm. He howled in fury, his amber eyes locking onto hers.
"You cannot win!" he snarled.
"Watch me," Seris retorted, driving her blade into his chest. Fenrik staggered back, but before she could finish him, he vanished into the shadows, leaving the remaining wolves to retreat.
As the dust settled, Seris leaned against her sword, panting. The dragon approached, its golden eyes proud. "You grow stronger with each fight. But Fenrik will return, and next time, he will not run."
Dain placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "You were incredible, Seris. But we can't keep doing this alone."
She looked at him, her resolve hardening. "We won't. We'll find allies—other villages, other warriors. Whatever it takes to stop this storm."
The dragon nodded. "The bond has begun to awaken your true potential. If we are to succeed, you must trust the power within you—and each other."
As they set off toward the ruins, Seris felt the faint stirrings of something new. In Dain's unwavering presence and the dragon's grudging respect, she saw the beginnings of a bond stronger than any mark—a bond forged in fire, adventure, and perhaps, something deeper.