Updated Nov 6, 2025 • ~11 min read
The official decree was written in dragon script and signed in blood.
Freya watched as Queen Seraphine pressed her palm to the parchment, magic flaring as her blood sealed the words. Ancient law, binding and absolute. One month of sacred guest-right. One month where Freya Thornwood was under the protection of the Drakemyr Court, untouchable by human or dragon alike.
One month to decide the rest of her life.
“This will be delivered to Prince Viktor by sunset,” the Queen said, rolling the parchment carefully. “Along with a very clear warning about what happens if he violates guest-right.”
“He’ll be furious,” Freya said quietly. They were in the Queen’s private study now, just the two of them. The council had dispersed, Lysander had been sent to deal with border defenses, and for the first time since the war horns sounded, Freya could breathe.
“Let him be furious.” Queen Seraphine settled into her chair with the grace of someone who’d ruled for centuries. “Fury without action is just noise. And he can’t act without breaking laws older than his kingdom.”
“You really think ancient law will stop him? He tried to have me assassinated.”
“Which was a mistake on his part. Now we have justification for defensive measures.” The Queen’s smile was sharp. “Viktor is arrogant, child, but he’s not stupid. He knows attacking during sacred guest-right would unite every dragon court against him. Even his allies would abandon him.”
Freya twisted her hands in her lap. “So for one month, I’m safe.”
“For one month, you’re protected. Safe is relative.” The Queen’s silver eyes—so like Lysander’s—studied her carefully. “But you’re also bound by the terms of guest-right. Do you understand what that means?”
“I get to decide about the bond?”
“Yes. But there are obligations on both sides.” Queen Seraphine leaned forward. “You must genuinely try to understand our ways. Learn about dragon culture, the mate bond, what it means to be part of our realm. You can’t hide in your chambers and run out the clock.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“And Lysander must court you properly. Human-style courtship, not dragon instincts.” Her lips twitched. “No more dead sheep.”
Despite everything, Freya almost smiled. “He was trying.”
“He was being a disaster. But his heart was in the right place.” The Queen’s expression softened. “My son has waited over a century for his mate, Freya. The bond recognized you, and his dragon went slightly insane with relief. That doesn’t excuse the kidnapping, but it does explain it.”
“Everyone keeps saying that. Like desperation makes it okay.”
“Not okay. Understandable.” Queen Seraphine stood, moving to the window overlooking the mountains. “When a dragon finds their fated mate, it’s not a gentle thing. It’s all-consuming. The need to claim, to protect, to possess—it’s overwhelming. Most dragons have years to court their mates properly. Lysander had two weeks and a wedding that would have stolen you forever.”
“So I’m supposed to forgive him because he was desperate?”
“I’m saying you should understand the context before you judge him too harshly.” The Queen looked back at her. “But forgiveness is your choice. Everything is your choice now. That’s what this month is for.”
Freya joined her at the window. In the distance, she could see Lysander in dragon form, flying patrol with other dragons. Even from here, she could feel him through the bond—his constant awareness of her, his desperate hope that a month would be enough.
“What if it’s not?” she asked quietly. “What if a month passes and I still don’t know?”
“Then you’ll have to choose anyway. That’s the nature of deadlines—they force decisions.” Queen Seraphine’s voice was gentle. “But Freya, let me tell you something I’ve learned in three hundred years of being mated to the Dragon King. Love—real love—isn’t about certainty. It’s about choosing someone despite the uncertainty. About deciding they’re worth the risk.”
“That sounds terrifying.”
“It is. But it’s also wonderful.” The Queen smiled. “I chose Aldric when I was young and reckless. The bond had recognized us, but I could have refused. Could have found a safer, easier path. But I looked at him and thought ‘this dragon is going to drive me insane, and I want every moment of it.'”
“And did he? Drive you insane?”
“Constantly. He’s stubborn, overprotective, and has a dragon’s instinct for hoarding things he loves. Including me.” Her eyes glinted with amusement. “But he’s also loyal, passionate, and would burn the world for my happiness. Three hundred years, and I’ve never regretted choosing him.”
Freya watched the dragons fly, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. “I don’t know if I can be that brave.”
“You’re already braver than you think. You stood up to my son. Called him out for kidnapping you in front of the entire council. Demanded agency when everyone else was trying to decide your fate.” Queen Seraphine turned to face her fully. “That takes courage, child. Now you just need to be brave enough to let yourself feel. To explore the bond without fear of what it might mean.”
“What if I fall for him and it’s just the magic?”
“Then you’ll spend your life with someone you love who loves you back. Is that really so terrible?” The Queen moved toward the door, then paused. “One piece of advice, Freya. Stop trying to separate the magic from the feelings. They’re intertwined by design. What matters is whether you want him, bond or no bond. Whether he makes you happy. Whether you can imagine a life together.”
“How will I know?”
“You’ll know.” Queen Seraphine’s smile was knowing. “Trust yourself. And give my son a chance. He may be a disaster at human courtship, but he’s trying. For you. That’s worth something.”
After the Queen left, Freya stood alone in the study, feeling the weight of one month pressing down on her shoulders.
Through the bond, she felt Lysander returning. Landing. Shifting to human form. Making his way through the palace toward—
Her door opened without knocking.
Lysander stood there, slightly out of breath, still wearing his flight leathers. His silver eyes found hers immediately, desperate and searching.
“You’re alright,” he said. Not a question. He could feel her through the bond, knew she was physically fine. But seeing her seemed to calm something in him anyway.
“I’m alright,” she confirmed.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “My mother told me the terms. One month. Sacred guest-right. Human-style courtship.”
“No more dead sheep,” Freya added.
“Definitely no more dead sheep.” He moved closer, and she felt the pull of the bond—that magnetic draw that made her want to close the distance between them. “Freya, I need you to understand something.”
“What?”
“I’m going to fight for you. For us. For the bond.” His voice was fierce, determined. “Not with kidnapping or possessive declarations or dragon instincts. But with everything I have. I’m going to show you who I am, what we could be together, why the bond chose us.”
“And if I still say no at the end?”
The pause was long enough that she felt his dragon raging. But when he spoke, his voice was steady. “Then I’ll honor your choice. Even if it destroys me.”
Through the bond, she felt the truth of it—and the lie. He wanted to believe he’d let her go. But his dragon would never accept it. They both knew that.
“One month,” she said softly. “Prove to me that you’re worth choosing, Lysander. Show me that being your mate means being your equal, not your property.”
“I will.” He took a step closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “But you have to try too, Freya. Really try. Learn about our world, understand the bond, let yourself feel what’s between us without constantly questioning if it’s real.”
“How can I not question it? Magic is literally making us feel things for each other.”
“The magic recognized what was already there. It amplifies, it connects, but it doesn’t create.” His hand rose, hovering near her face without touching. “What I feel for you—the desperate need to be near you, the way my chest aches when you’re upset, the absolute certainty that you’re mine—that’s not magic forcing me. That’s me, choosing you, over and over again.”
“You haven’t known me long enough to feel that way.”
“My soul has known yours forever.” His eyes glowed silver in the dim light. “But if you need proof beyond the bond, then I’ll give you that. Every day for the next month, I’ll show you who I am. And you’ll see that what we have is real, magic or no magic.”
Freya’s heart hammered in her chest. The intensity of his gaze, the certainty in his voice, the way the bond amplified everything until she could barely tell where her feelings ended and his began—it was overwhelming.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“Me too.” His hand dropped. “I’m terrified you’ll reach the end of the month and choose to leave. That I’ll lose my mate, my dragon, everything that matters. But I’m more terrified of forcing you into something you don’t want. So I’ll wait. I’ll court you properly. And at the end, whatever you choose, at least we’ll both know we tried.”
Through the bond, she felt his determination—solid and unwavering. He meant every word. For the next month, he would give her space, respect her boundaries, prove himself worthy instead of just claiming her.
It was more than Viktor had ever offered. More than her father had ever considered. For the first time in her life, someone was treating her choice as valuable.
Even if that someone was a dragon who’d kidnapped her from her own wedding.
“One month,” she repeated. “Then I decide my own fate.”
“Agreed.” His lips curved into a smile that was both hopeful and heartbreaking. “But Freya? I will show you we’re meant to be. I’ll show you that being my mate means being cherished, protected, valued. That it means partnership, not possession.”
“That’s a big promise.”
“I have a month to keep it.”
He moved toward the door, giving her space like he’d promised. But at the threshold, he paused.
“For what it’s worth?” His voice was soft. “You’re already worth fighting for. Worth the kidnapping and the war threats and every impossible choice ahead. You don’t have to earn that. You just have to believe it.”
Then he was gone, leaving Freya alone with the bond pulsing warm in her chest and his words echoing in her mind.
You’re already worth fighting for.
No one had ever said that to her before. No one had ever looked at her like she was valuable just for existing, not for what she could offer or what family name she carried.
Through the bond, she felt Lysander’s emotions—hope so bright it hurt, determination that felt like dragon fire, and underneath it all, a love so fierce it should have terrified her.
Instead, it made her feel seen.
Freya touched her chest where the bond lived, feeling his presence even across the palace. One month to figure out if a dragon prince who hoarded books and brought dead sheep as romantic gestures could actually be her happily ever after.
One month to decide if the fated mate bond was destiny or disaster.
One month to choose between safety and something terrifyingly, impossibly real.
“One month,” she whispered to the empty room.
And through the bond, she felt Lysander’s answering surge of hope.
I’ll make you fall for me, Freya Thornwood. Watch me.
The challenge had been issued.
The courtship had officially begun.
And despite every logical reason to guard her heart, Freya felt something flutter in her chest that might have been anticipation.
Or maybe it was just the bond.
She was starting to suspect it didn’t matter which.
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