Page 2 of Claimed By the Drakarn Warrior Lord

Falling into shadows. Into silence. Into …

My eyes snapped open with a sharp inhale, the echo of her touch still sizzling beneath my skin.

The glow of the heat crystals embedded in my chamber walls did little to stave off the pounding in my chest. My breaths came ragged, uneven. I shot upright, my claws gripping at the carved edges of the obsidian slab I called a sleeping platform. I stared down at my hands, the tremors running through them utterly foreign to me.

Darrokar, Warrior Lord of Scalvaris, did not shake.

But my fangs burned.

Closing my mouth did little to soothe the fiery ache in my jaw. I flexed my tongue, wincing as the faintest motion sent unbearable hypersensitivity ricocheting across my senses. My wings, half-unfurled, curled protectively around me.

Damned dreams.

I growled low, the sound vibrating through my chest, but it put no distance between me and the sensations clawing at me. The tingling along my claws, the phantom press of her fingers over my skin, the maddening scent that lingered in the air, entwining with the faint freshness of the river below.

I couldn’t dismiss it—not as a trick of the mind,not as a warrior’s exhaustion or the effects of a poor night’s rest. This was something deeper. I’d known of the fated bond only through stories and ritual, through the words of others. I'd never dreamed of it for myself.

And yet. She was real.Somewhere, she was real.

I rose from the slab, dragging my claws over its cool surface as though that might cure the chaos within me. It didn’t help. My clawed feet touched the smooth volcanic rock of the chamber floor, and my wings drew close to my body, their membranes taut with tension.

Moving toward the sky tunnel carved into the ceiling, I narrowed my eyes to the faint stream of light streaking down from the twin suns. It was dim now. The sun shafts would soon burn brighter, but for now, this slice of sky was cool enough for reflection.

Reflection. The word felt weak, and the fire ravaging my senses left no room for hesitation.

I braced my hands against the angular edges of the tunnel’s opening, letting the external heat press against my scales. My claws scraped at the volcanic stone, seeking some purchase, but there was no escaping the torrent within. It gnawed at me, simmering low in my gut and coiling tighter withevery moment. I wanted to howl into the void, to demand the gods of my ancestors explain this madness.

Instead, I tilted my head back toward the narrow view of the heavens. Somewhere, far above this labyrinth of obsidian halls and warrior chambers, was the source of my agony—and my salvation. The dream … it hadn’t been my imagination. It was a call.

I didn’t understand how or why. Or how to answer it.

It didn't matter.

I would find her. I would tear through realms known and unknown if that’s what it took. Just as the scar across my chest was earned and worn with pride, I would bleed for this bond. I bared my teeth in a wild grin.

Whatever gods had decided this woman was mine had better prepare for what they’d unleashed.

My fangs ached again, sharper this time. My claws flexed, and the scent of her ghosted through my senses once more, dragging foreign sweetness through the heat of Volcaryth. My mate waited … somewhere.

“Mine,” I murmured to the silence of my chamber, the word taking an unfamiliar softness atop the granite edges of my voice.

ONE

DARROKAR

The ancient stories spoke of beings from far away worlds. That dream hanging heavy over my thoughts put those stories at the forefront of my mind.

But it was the dark streaks of smoke in the sky that showed me something truly otherworldly had come to visit.

The crash was a speck on the horizon, smoke curling upward to stain the crimson of Volcaryth's sky. The suns hung heavy above, their fiery rays bearing down on us in judgement. I led the flight, my wings carving smooth arcs through the scalding air. Behind me, the shadows of my warriors mirrored me—loyal, deadly, unshakable.

"The wreckage reeks of foreign metal," Rathgrowled, his ruby-red scales catching a glint of light. "We should scour it clean before it festers."

I shot him a look over my shoulder. "Have you forgotten the difference between fear and reward?" My words cut sharp, a blade honed by years of command. "We don’t eliminate the unknown until we understand it."

Rath huffed but said no more. He knew better than to push me, though the way the veins along his neck pulsed betrayed his simmering impatience. It was his strength and his flaw—an explosive temper that mirrored his namesake, a heart of flame forever on the verge of inferno.

Vyne glided closer to my left flank. His deep purple scales shimmered faintly in the glare of the suns, his voice as steady as the flow of the sacred river. "Whatever fell from the sky wasn’t designed for Volcaryth. It can't endure this heat. Whatever, or whoever, survived that crash might need aid." His gaze flicked toward Rath. "We should at least assess before we destroy."

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