Cyrene gasped as her lungs filled.

The first thing she realized was that she could feel the buzz of her blade. She reached for her magic and sighed with relief that it had returned to her. But it didn’t explain where she was or what had just happened.

She lay on her back in a brightly lit sanctum. She rolled over and slowly eased to her feet. The room was ornately decorated with an altar and pool. It was large enough to house the three dragons staring down at her.

“What…is going on?” Cyrene asked.

She tilted her head to the side and realized that each of the dragons had a Dragon Blessed handler. Kerrigan was among them. She nodded her head at Cyrene.

“You made it through the competition,” Alura bit out.

Cyrene turned slowly to find that they were the only two there.

“You did, too.”

“Obviously,” Alura said.

“What are we waiting for?”

“One more competitor,” Alura said. “I’ve been here for hours. They could have at least provided snacks.”

“They didn’t say that we’d get a dragon if we won,” Cyrene said. “I thought we would just be scored.”

“Seems like the scores don’t matter anymore.”

Cyrene didn’t know why, but she felt a sharp relief. She couldn’t imagine making it here and still being scored before moving forward into the Society. She’d endured too much. Her hands still shook from that last thing…whatever it had been.

“Do you know what that last test was?” Cyrene asked.

“Ask the Dragon Blessed. I’ve tired of your presence.” Then, Alura turned and strode away from Cyrene.

She sighed and turned to Kerrigan. “Do you know about the tests?”

“Yes. The sea nymph tested your purity of heart. The dark court—or as they call themselves, the House of Shadows,” Kerrigan said, wrinkling her nose at the last second, “was to test self-restraint and control. The faerie illusion was a fear test.”

“That was an illusion? Creator, it felt real.”

“The faerie magic has the ability to warp reality and infect the mind. It pulled your darkest fear from you and forced you to live it. We wanted to see if you could come out on the other side of your fears. To rise above adversity.”

She nearly choked on that. It was a hollow victory. Her greatest fears—all of her friends dying and her giving in to her blood magic and losing the battle to darkness. It had been as horrifying as she’d always imagined it to be.

No matter if she’d overcome it and walked out from the other side, she’d never forget the taste of blood magic that zinged through her veins. Or the faces of her dead friends. Or the bite of that blade through her chest.

“You passed,” Kerrigan added quickly. “You’ll move on.”

“Great.”

“It’s not consolation, but…you did the best I’d ever seen,” Kerrigan whispered. “You had to go up against Fordham.” She shivered. “He’s…horrible. I’ve never seen the House of Shadows use a dark prince on anyone before.”

“You’re right. That doesn’t feel like consolation.”

Cyrene stepped away from Kerrigan just as Dean’s body appeared roughly two feet from where Cyrene had woken up. He was on one knee. His hands were before him, as if he’d been praying or maybe proposing. Fear was clear on his face.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Alura grumbled.

Dean opened his eyes and looked around in the same amount of confusion as Cyrene had felt. “What…is this?”

“Congratulations,” Kerrigan said. “You are the third competitor to complete the dragon tournament. We have our three winners and will close the portal now.” She nodded her head at a beautiful blonde sprite of a child, who rushed over to the wall. “If you will step forward, please, we will begin.”

Dean still looked confused as he stepped toward Cyrene and Alura.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Cyrene assured him.

He nodded once, as if that was answer enough. In fact, when he looked at her, it was as if he were seeing a ghost. He could hardly pull his eyes from her.

“The final step in the dragon tournament is not for our competitors, but the dragons themselves,” the blonde girl said.

“The dragon’s choice,” Kerrigan finished for her.

The final Dragon Blessed was a blue-haired boy who looked older than both of the others. “A dragon is not complete without a perfectly paired rider. We attempt to winnow down the competition so that only the best get through to this point. To prepare you for a life in the Society and working with your dragon. But it is ultimately their choice if you are worthy.”

Cyrene glanced left and right. They’d done all of this, and now, a dragon might not choose them.

“We will begin with Gemina,” said the sprite.

The dragon stepped forward. Her metallic scales shone as she shifted. She was stunning. Regal and intelligent. Her golden eyes narrowed as she surveyed the three.

I am Gemina of Ardena and Margon. Born of the Vert Mountains. Proud, honorable, and deadly. My choice is one that lasts until my last breath or yours. I am duty bound, and you are duty bound. Nothing on this world or another could separate us. If you will accept, I will give this honor to Alura of Venatrix, soul of stone and fire.

Alura stepped forward. Despite her cool outward appearance, it was clear that she was honored and excited.

She bent to one knee. “I, Alura of Venatrix, do humbly accept your choice.”

The blonde girl nodded. “Come with me, and your magic will be bound.”

They moved toward the altar, leaving Cyrene and Dean alone with the final two dragons.

The blue-haired boy spoke next, “Our next dragon is Halcyon. Make your choice.”

I am Halcyon of Jestra and Margon. Born of the Heart Cave. My soul sings to the waves and breeze and salt. My choice will not just be one of duty. I dream of a dragon rider that unites me with one of a matching soul. For I will never be without my rider, and my rider will never be without me.

He paused as his cool blue eyes looked between Cyrene and Dean. His blue, green, and turquoise scales shimmered in the light, and his talons clicked on the hard ground.

My choice is Dean of the Elsiande, but as I look into his soul, I realize that he is…incomplete.

Cyrene glanced at Dean sharply. Dean just looked confused.

His soul resides where it belongs. The mind is coherent though fragmented. But the heart…the heart is missing.

“Missing?” Dean asked.

I see you have a mission. We will have to retrieve it together. It will be our first task. Halcyon seemed settled with that, but both Dean and Cyrene stared at him in confusion. If you will accept, I give my dragon’s choice to Dean of Eleysia, soul of a prince, mind of a captain, bereft of heart.

“Eleysia?” he mumbled. “What is Eleysia? And what do you mean…bereft of heart? How can I not have a heart?” he asked.

“You will need to make your choice. You will have a lifetime for questions,” the blue-haired boy said softly.

“I accept,” Dean said numbly.

“Let us move to the altar now and continue the ceremony.”

Cyrene’s mind was spinning. Halcyon must have seen something within Dean that Dean could not reach. Because he had known that Dean was the prince of Eleysia. That he had been a captain in his previous life. He was her Dean after all. But, somehow, he had forgotten it all.

Kerrigan smiled then, and she looked so young with her red hair down loose. “Finally, we have Sarielle and her dragon choice.”

Sarielle’s golden gaze pierced straight through Cyrene’s heart. She was incredible. Red scales flecked with gold that made her shine and glitter as she adjusted herself. She was intelligent and sassy and perfect.

I am Sarielle of Laciara and Mazzon. Born of the Draíocht. My soul sings to adventure and the wild. It aches for more than this life. It reaches for one who brings change. And I knew that first day when I appeared that we would come to this moment. If you will, Cyrene?

“You knew all along?” Cyrene breathed.

Didn’t you?

Looking back on that moment as she’d watched Sarielle zoom in low and blow fire on the crowd, smile arrogantly as she swept away, Cyrene had known. She’d known that she wanted Sarielle above all others.

“Yes. Yes, I knew.”

So I thought.

“I accept.”

Kerrigan grinned from ear to ear. “I am glad to accept this union. Please move to the altar, and we will complete the binding, which initiates you into the Society for life.”

Cyrene stepped forward and put her hand on Sarielle’s strong side. She was warm and alive and hers. And Cyrene belonged to Sarielle. It felt inevitable. Just as it had when she met Avoca. The world had tipped on its axis, and everything had suddenly been right once more.

You feel it already, don’t you?

“Yes. We were made for one another.”

And we will do marvelous things as dragon and rider.

“I have no doubt.”

Cyrene followed Kerrigan to the altar. She had a book before her and a shimmering gold potion. It all looked so familiar. Familiar and yet not. This felt…more advanced. She knew that, from now on, she would be tied to the lifeline of her dragon. She could live for two thousand years if her dragon did. She had never gotten that from being bound to Avoca. This was a sacred ceremony unlike any other, and she was both nervous and excited about what was to come.

Kerrigan read from the book. None of it made sense to Cyrene, as it was in the ancient Fae language. But the words swam over her nonetheless. They wrapped magical ropes tight around her body, squeezing her and pulling she and Sarielle together. A connection that could never break.

“Drink this,” Kerrigan said. She passed Cyrene a potion. “You will pass into another realm where you will meet Sarielle. When you come out on the other side, you will be dragon and rider forevermore. Good luck.”

Cyrene looked to Sarielle and nodded her head once. As Cyrene poured the potion down her throat, she saw Sarielle drink from the pool. Her vision went fuzzy and then black.

Darkness.

Heavy darkness.

There was nothing else.

Then, a whistling blew in her ears.

She blinked to try to clear the darkness from her eyes, but nothing happened. She could sense Sarielle beside her. Feel her welcoming presence, but couldn’t see the beautiful dragon that would be her own.

This was unlike any other bound ceremony she had been through. She thought they would have to overcome a certain task together. Put themselves ahead of anyone else. Ahead of themselves. Be selfless. Anything.

But this darkness made no sense.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Soft but growing louder as they approached.

Cyrene tensed, wondering what evil they were going to have to face. What this illusion could possibly throw at her that was worse than watching all of her friends perish and knowing it was her fault.

Then, the footsteps stopped.

Just enough light was visible for Cyrene to see a black-cloaked figure.

Her blood ran cold.

She knew what that figure was.

She had come to Cyrene in a dream before.

This was the person that Serafina had been so afraid of. This was…a goddess. Serafina had feared that the dark goddess would enter Cyrene’s dreams and take them over. That the Destroyer would guide Cyrene into the darkness.

And here she was.

Someone who even the strongest among them feared. She had power that no one else could possibly have. That no one else had even seen in any lifetime. She had influenced the events that transpired between Viktor and Serafina two thousand years ago. She must be the person Serafina had said had helped Viktor to victory.

She was evil.

Pure and simple.

She reached her hand out, as she always had in Cyrene’s dreams.

Her cloak billowed, as if it were made of smoke. Her skin flickered, as if her body were made of spirit, not of skin and bone. Then, she laughed, a hollow, menacing thing.

“Come to me, Cyrene,” she said. “Use the coin and come to me.”

“Never,” Cyrene said.

“We could unite together. Work as one.”

“I could never work with you. You ruined the world. You destroyed my people. You will never have me to do the same again.”

“We’ll see.” She laughed again. “We’ll see.”