Drenched in blood and betrayal

Prologue

Fifteen years had passed since King Aethon Draevanar, the last true-born Dragon Rider, drew his final breath. His death had not merely left a kingdom mourning-it had shattered the balance of power. The throne, meant to pass to his daughter, Crown Princess Isolde, had instead been seized by her half-brother, a boy raised under the shadow of ambition and treachery.

The usurper's reign had been shaped not by his own will, but by the hand of Queen Dowager Mirelva Morvaine, his mother. A woman of cunning and cruelty, she saw Isolde and her children as nothing more than obstacles to her son's rule. The queen dowager had waged her silent war for years, her whispers turning once-loyal allies into spies, her gold buying steel to cut down threats before they could rise.

Isolde had survived. But survival came at a price.

For almost eighteen years, she had remained in hiding, a shadow in her own kingdom, her once-gilded existence reduced to secrecy and fear. Not for herself, but for her children. The firstborn, a girl with the unmistakable features of King Aethon-his almost crimson eyes, his golden blonde hair-had been declared dead. It was the only way to protect her.

Yet the blood of dragons did not fade so easily.

The winds carried whispers of a storm rising. Of fire yet to be rekindled. And of a princess who was never meant to be queen, but who would soon have no choice but to become one.

Because the queen dowager's hunt was not over. And neither was Isolde's fight.