The arena fell silent, the roar of the crowd replaced by an echoing dread. Zilas's heart hammered as the final gates creaked open. It wasn't a monster that emerged, but a ghost. Cinda. Chained, broken, her eyes reflecting a terror he knew all too well. He shifted, scales shimmering, the dragon within unleashed. Not in fury, but in defiance. He would not break her. He would break his world. "She is my queen," he declared, his voice a thunderclap. He kissed her, a claiming, a promise. And in that kiss, the fate of Dragirust, and perhaps Earth, was irrevocably changed.