Chapter 1 - The Thing That Cried Fire
The baby screamed before it took its first breath.
Not a human scream.
A sharp, cracking shriek tore through the birthing chamber, and every candle in the room went out at once.
Mara Ellery lifted her head from the blood-soaked pillow. “Why did it get dark?”
No one answered.
The midwife stood frozen between Mara’s knees, both hands shaking. Something small moved beneath the linen in her arms.
Then smoke curled out from under the cloth.
Mara heard the priest whisper, “God save us.”
Her husband, King Rowan Ashbourne, stepped away from the bed.
“What is it?” Mara gasped.
The midwife looked at him instead of her.
That frightened Mara more than the smoke.
“Give me my child.”
The woman did not move.
“Give me my baby!”
The bundle jerked hard. A tiny claw, black and shining, hooked through the linen.
Someone screamed.
The priest dropped his silver cross.
Rowan drew his sword.
Mara’s exhaustion vanished.
“No.”
Rowan’s face had gone gray. “Mara, don’t look.”
“Don’t look at my own child?”
The midwife stumbled backward as the linen slipped.
Mara saw a small face.
Not human.
Not fully.
The baby had Mara’s dark eyes and Rowan’s pale mouth, but fine charcoal scales covered her cheeks and neck. Two soft horn buds curved from her temples. Thin wings, wet and folded, trembled against her back.
And when she cried again, a spark jumped from her lips.
Mara stared.
The room seemed to tilt beneath her.
Rowan raised his sword.
Mara lunged despite the pain tearing through her body.
“Touch her and I’ll kill you.”
Everyone went silent.
The king looked at his wife as if he no longer knew her.
“Mara.”
“She is mine.”
“She is not a child.”
The baby whimpered.
Mara reached out.
The midwife hesitated, then placed the creature in her arms.
The second Mara held her, the baby stopped crying.
Warmth spread through Mara’s chest. The scales were softer than they looked. The tiny wings pressed against her skin.
“My daughter,” Mara whispered.
Rowan’s grip tightened around his sword.
The priest finally found his voice. “Your Majesty, the old prophecies warned of this. A dragon born from a woman will open the Black Gate.”
Mara looked up. “Prophecies are stories frightened men tell each other.”
The priest swallowed. “This one killed three kingdoms.”
The door suddenly burst open.
Captain Lucan Vey entered with six royal guards.
He took one look at the child and went pale.
Then he looked at Rowan.
“My king,” he said carefully, “the eastern watchtower just sent a signal.”
Rowan lowered his sword an inch. “What signal?”
Lucan’s eyes shifted toward Mara.
“Dragons.”
Mara’s blood turned cold.
“How many?” Rowan asked.
Lucan answered in a whisper.
May you like
“All of them.”
And somewhere beyond the palace walls, something enormous roared back at the newborn in Mara’s arms.
