Argh!
Rosearia’s eyes snapped open.
Pain exploded through her skull, forcing a strangled gasp from her throat. Her chest heaved as she struggled to focus, her vision a disorienting haze of dark shadows and flickering golden candlelight.
Beneath her battered body rested a plush, impossibly soft mattress. Heavy crimson silk blankets had been pulled neatly over her chest.
She felt warm.
Why does feeling warm feel so wrong?
The thought flickered through her mind like a phantom, impossible to catch — a lingering echo of some cold, miserable past that had already slipped through her fingers before she could grasp it.
Groaning, Rosearia forced herself upright.
She clutched her throbbing temples, pale fingers digging into her scalp as she tried to drag a single memory up from the dark abyss of her mind.
Why can’t I remember anything? Who am I? Where am I?
Panic clawed at her throat, sharp and freezing. She searched for a name, a face, a place, a voice — anything at all to anchor herself to.
Nothing came.
Her past was a vast, terrifying void, and she was standing at the very edge of it with nothing to hold onto.
She looked down at her own hands. Slender fingers, delicate wrists, pale skin — and then her breath caught in her throat.
Faint black veins pulsed beneath her flesh, glowing with a low, sinister crimson light. They crept across her skin like a spiderweb of dark magic, humming with a quiet, dangerous energy that didn’t feel like it belonged to her.
What is this? What happened to me?
Before she could process the marks, a suffocating weight settled over the room. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Someone was watching her.
Her disoriented eyes darted across the dark, lavish chamber — towering archways, heavy velvet drapery, high stone walls, and corners swallowed whole by shadow.
"S-show yourself!" she rasped, her voice dry and raw, scraping against her burning throat.
A low rumble of dark laughter echoed from the corner, vibrating through the floorboards beneath her.
"It seems whatever toxic poison is running through your system is heavily clouding your mind," a dangerously smooth voice drawled.
Rosearia squinted through the dim light. Sitting casually in a high-backed velvet armchair, bathed in the faint glow of the fireplace, was a tall, imposing figure. As he leaned forward, the firelight caught long, silken blond hair — and a pair of glowing golden eyes with slit pupils, like a dragon’s.
"Who are you?" she demanded, scrambling backward until her spine hit the solid wood headboard. "What is this place?"
"What do you think?" He rose from the chair, unhurried, and the simple movement made every instinct in her body scream in warning.
Whatever this man was, he was not someone she could afford to underestimate.
"Do not come near me," Rosearia flinched. "Stay back, or—"
"Or what?" he purred, taking another slow step toward the bed, his golden gaze tracking her every frantic movement like a predator savoring the chase.
Her hands searched the sheets for a weapon. Finding nothing but soft silk, instinct took over — her fingers flew to her green hair, tangling until they brushed a heavy, sharp silver hairpin. In one swift, desperate motion, she ripped it free. A cascade of vibrant, silky green hair spilled over her pale shoulders.
She held the pin outward, her hand shaking as she aimed it at his chest.
"I will kill you," she gasped, crimson eyes flashing with frantic defiance. "Take another step and I’ll drive this through your heart."
The golden-eyed man paused — then tilted his head back and let out a rich, dark laugh that echoed off the stone walls.
"You amuse me, my dear," he chuckled, genuine delight flashing in those dragon eyes. "If only Asmodeus were here to see this. A half-dead girl, threatening a dragon."
"Who are you?" she demanded, her knuckles bone-white around the metal pin. "Answer me."
"Aldric." He gave her a lazy smile. "Dragon Duke of the North. And you’re in my castle."
Aldric... Dragon Duke...
The titles echoed through her mind, sounding some faint warning bell deep in the void of her memory, though she couldn’t grasp why they mattered.
Aldric took a step closer, entirely unbothered by the weapon still pointed at his chest. "Tell me, what is your name, dear?"
"My name is... it’s—" Rosearia froze. The words died in her throat. She searched the empty desert of her mind and found nothing waiting for her there.
Panic choked her. "I— I don’t know."
Aldric’s mocking smile slowly faded, his golden eyes narrowing with sharp interest. "Mmm. Do you remember anything at all? Where you came from?"
"No," she whispered, voice cracking. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. "I don’t remember anything."
"The Memory Water worked better than expected," Aldric murmured, stepping right up to the edge of the bed.
Before she could react, his claw-tipped fingers moved with blinding speed, but he didn’t disarm her. Instead his hand closed gently around her trembling fingers, wrapping his warmth around her cold grip. Slowly, effortlessly, he guided her hand — and the sharp silver point still clutched in it — right against the center of his chest, directly over his beating heart.
Rosearia gasped.
"Well then," Aldric leaned down, his massive frame casting a shadow over the bed. His hot breath brushed her face, carrying the scent of ozone and ancient fire. His gaze dropped to the crimson veins glowing beneath her skin.
"Rose."
She frowned. "What?"
"Until you remember your real name." His smile sharpened. "You look like a rose with thorns."
His golden eyes burned with raw intensity. "Welcome to your new life, Rose. You belong to us now."
Something in her trembled, but deep beneath the fear, a spark of stubborn fire roared to life. Even with her mind wiped clean, her spirit refused to bow.
"I belong to no one," she hissed.
With the last of her strength, she shoved the silver pin forward with everything she had.
Clang!
The pin snapped in half against his chest, unable to pierce the microscopic dragon scales hidden beneath his skin. Metal fragments scattered across the sheets.
Aldric didn’t even flinch. A dark, crooked grin spread across his face. "Fierce," he murmured, fingers tightening slightly around hers. "You’re going to be trouble, Rose."
Before she could make sense of anything, heavy double doors at the side of the chamber swung open.
"Aldric. Let her breathe."
The voice was low, command-laced, and heavy with a raw, dominant weight that seemed to press against the very walls.
Rosearia snapped her head toward the sound.
A tall man stepped into the room, long, wet silver hair clinging to his sharp jawline and broad shoulders. Water droplets traced the carved, lethal lines of his chest before disappearing into a dark towel wrapped low around his waist. His eyes were a striking, electric blue — and right now, they were fixed entirely on her trembling form.
"You’re terrifying her," Adrian said calmly, though the sheer weight of his aura filled every corner of the room. "She just woke up with her mind wiped. Give her space."
Aldric chuckled, slowly letting his hand slide away from her neck, though his golden eyes never left her face. "She tried to put a hairpin through my heart, Adrian. I’m just appreciating the spirit."
Adrian stepped closer, the scent of wild pine, rain, and heavy alpha pressure flooding the room. He didn’t look at Aldric with hostility. Instead, something shifted, slow and profound, in his electric-blue eyes the moment her scent reached him up close for the first time.
His eyes flashed a deep, blood-red hue.
The ancient bond snapped into place for him just as it had for Aldric before him. He didn’t growl or challenge his ally. His gaze only softened — intense, dark, and utterly focused on her.
"The bond," Adrian whispered, stopping near the edge of the bed. He looked at Aldric, a faint, dark smirk touching his lips. "So the old demon wasn’t lying. She really is the Cursed Rose."
He turned his full attention back to Rosearia, taking in her glowing black-crimson veins and her wild, defensive posture.
"Don’t look at us like that, little flower," Adrian said, his voice dropping into a deep, soothing rumble. "We aren’t going to hurt you. You’re finally home."