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“Mum? Where are you? Please, Mum. Answer me,” I ask, noticing I’m back in a dark, dreary chamber. The space around me reminds me of a dooming, dirty dungeon. It’s the same nightmare—the same room I've been dreaming about night after night.

I slam my eyes shut, telling myself this is my dream and I decide what happens in it, but uncertainty looms over me like a stormy, dark cloud. I don’t even know how I got out of here the last time. It’s cold and I’m shivering—the temperature keeps dropping. Fear hatches out slowly, slinking down into the pit of my stomach. My inner dragon longs to be unleashed, but the space is entirely too small; too cramped and there may be other shifters around. My body locks up as a series of tight tingles travel over my spine. I register movement somewhere nearby. I take a few steps back until I hit the wall behind me. A door opens to my left. My hands splay flush against the wall to balance my weight, as I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart.

Someone’s in the chamber with me, another mage member or shifter. Their energy is caressing my cheek, circulating around, trying to leach into my inner dragon. A few moments pass and I hear loud breathing—hoping it’s only my mother.

She finally found me.

A shudder of revulsion and fear rocks through me as the sound of footsteps approach.

“Mum? Is that you?” I ask again, my voice uneven, then I remember—it’s not Mum. In this terrible nightmare she never appears.

“Your beloved mother is dead and I’m here to finish the job,” says a deep, raspy voice I don’t recognise. “You’re the last of your clan, the final piece of the puzzle. Minerva begged me to spare her and I laughed when she tried to shift one last time. A pathetic attempt at bravery, but I digress.”

My heart accelerates and I press my back to the wall, knowing I have nowhere to escape. It’s a trap, the darkness has me now. My inner dragon whispers “use the fire” and I know this is the only way I’ll be able to survive.

Tingles of energy roll over my spine and the air is static with electricity. I’m too afraid to move—to release the flames in fear of being trapped in this chamber forever.

“Get away from me or you’ll die. My fire brings death and I can easily lose control,” I shout. A blue light above starts flickering and I see the mage’s face. He smiles widely and twisted excitement glimmers in his eyes.

I close my eyes and fist my hair, telling myself this isn’t possible. It can’t be him. He’s the greatest protector of the city. He can’t be the enemy.

“Your father begged me to spare him too. He was a coward and he didn’t even try to fight for your mother. I took great pleasure ending his life. Now it’s your turn. You’re the last in the Wyvern’s clan and you must die,” the male mage says, smiling deviously.

I shake my head, and tears are streaming down my cheeks now. I’m not meant to be weak; my father told me countless times mages feed off weakness.

“Please stop. Step away. My parents aren’t dead–they’re coming for me. We’re the true dragons—”

“Wyvern’s aren’t the real dragon shifters. They’re beneath the mage and other shifter races. Your family was working against the clan, and they brought shame to their breed!” the mage roars while my dragon rises inside me, brewing its deadly fire as sparks escape from my fingertips. It just a matter of time before my fire magic gets out of control, killing anyone who dares turn against me.

He’s standing so close now I can feel his hot breath on my face. He’s going to die any second, only he doesn’t know it yet. I can see him bleeding on the floor, writhing in agony in my mind’s eye.

My heart pounds as I let go of a high-pitched scream, unleashing the nuclear–power strength energy. My inhuman roar echoes throughout the entire space. Fire moves within my body, easing out of my pores. My fiery ball spins in the air—growing like a massive thunder cloud, then something unexpected happens.

My fire magic blows back instead of protecting me and the pain’s even greater than I imagined. My beloved parents are dead. Grief cracks my chest open, filling me with anguish and a steady stream of despair.

Suddenly, raw flames are burning my left cheek, moving slowly down my neck melting my skin. Fiery bursts of pain cause my ears to ring. The mage laughs ominously. Everything’s spinning out of control—I can’t even touch my face. Pain lances through my chest, making me dizzy. It feels like arsenic’s tearing my skin apart, reaching into the depths of my bone marrow.

“Your own dragon turned against you, little girl. I own you now and I’ll own you forever.” Menacing laughter echoes inside the chamber.

* * *

I wake up breathing hard and disorientated, taking long, wheezing breaths continuously until I know it was only a dream. Silence answers me and my heart’s pounding away in my chest.

I caress deformed parts of my face, feeling an uneven and lumpy surface underneath my fingers.

It takes me a long moment to gain control of myself. Luckily, I didn’t wake up screaming at the top of my lungs as I usually do. My uncle told me he’d throw me out if he heard me shouting in the middle of the night again.

I scramble off the edge of the bed and glance at the watch on my bedside table. It’s two a.m. The silence is broken by loud snoring. Two Welsh Pixies are fast asleep, embracing each other. I should be used to their snoring by now, but tonight it’s unusually loud. I put my bare feet on the cold floor and wait for my breathing to calm down.

I gasp when I realise what was different about this dream. I finally remember the face of the mage who tried to kill me. Ever since I was a little girl, I woke without knowing any details about the man. In the past, his face was always hidden in the darkness. My pulse quickens and heavy bricks cascade into my stomach.

The mage who scarred me for life and admitted to killing my parents is the Duke of Rivenna.

I put my head between my knees, taking shuddering breaths, telling myself once again, as if saying it over and over somehow will make it true—this is impossible. He can’t be the same person—the same mage. There’s no way the duke would’ve had anything to do with my parents’ death. I get up, ready to pull my clothes back on and run to the castle …

And then what?

My inner self asks this question and I don’t have an answer.

This is stupid, Astri. The castle is riddled with guards and the duke’s most likely fast asleep. No one would even consider letting you anywhere near him, especially in the middle of the night.

I sigh loudly and lay down on the bed again, staring up at the ceiling. The dream…it was just a dream, but my cheek’s warm and the skin’s still slightly burning. Now everything’s clear. My own magic turned against me, disfiguring my face and neck all those years ago. The blow-back spell left a permanent mark on my body, and now the dreaded spell can’t be removed.

Over the past several years, I’ve been having the same dream. I wake up when my spell hits me. I’m soaked with sweat, screaming, and I hear the same, looming voice; I experience agonising pain, but the mage’s identity is never revealed—until tonight.

My thoughts are racing and I hate myself because he isn’t someone else. The truth hurts–he’s untouchable.

After eleven years, I’ve finally discovered the identity of the mage who took my parents away from me. Maybe tomorrow I can think about a plan—about a way of confirming what happened all those years ago, but deep down I realise it’s nearly impossible. The duke is the most powerful dragon shifter in Rivenna and no one’s ever challenged him. I run my fingers over the scar on my cheek again and close my eyes. The moment’s finally come—the dream was just a reminder that I’d been scarred for a reason. My dreams have always revealed the truth or reality of a situation. They’ve never been wrong before.

Now … I know.

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