Chapter 1: FIRESTORM

"Do not hesitate, it only brings nothing more but death." A raspy stern voice instructed in a strict voice.

The young woman stood still in an unusually quiet sparring arena, with a black blindfold wrapped tightly around her eyes to ensure she couldn't see anything.

She let out a deep forced sigh, her shoulders relaxed and her fingers which could be seen from her bandaged hands wiggled easily.

"You speak like I am afraid of death." She spoke with pride, her eyes rolled in disdain beneath the blindfold .

"Your pride will be the death of you!" The raspy voice yelled in a offended voice. Her statement had angered him.

She scoffed.

"Ophelia Viadislav!" The voice yelled with rage. "Hmm?" She asked nonchalantly.

Looking back, Ophelia wished she had been raised to be a prefect princess. Attending etiquette classes, attending balls for attention, gossiping about handsome, ugly, strong, and weak princes, and obsessing over dresses, shoes, and makeup.

Sigh. Nonetheless, she was still a princess, but her title, 'Princess Ophelia Viadislav,' was vastly different. Instead of taking etiquette classes, she had been taking sword fighting classes since she could walk and had been beaten to near death when she failed. She could now handle any weapon. She could basically turn anything into a weapon. Instead of seeking attention, she went to balls as an assassin. And as for gossiping, it couldn't be called that when she needed to know everything about someone because they were her targets to kill. Dresses, shoes, and makeup were all normal things for her to think about. Maybe.

"Concentrate and strike. Think about nothing but striking." A strained raspy old voice chanted incessantly.

Her bandaged hands clenched into strong ball fist, her mind relaxed and her cracked bloody lip parted slightly allowing a forced breath to escape through her mouth.

"Now!" The voice screamed.

The stone ground beneath her feet vibrated, and she felt a force coming at her quickly. Smirking, she turned to her right side and punched the hard chested incoming person who appeared in front of her using his speed.

"Ah!" She was overjoyed when she heard a deep voice yell out in pain. "Ophelia! Not on my chest, please." The whining voice made her scoff.

"I am allowed to hit you anywhere." She spoke proudly, removed the blindfold and tossed it away, her hazel gray eyes twinkling with pride as she narrowed her gaze to the tall strong built man in front of her who had a deep frown on his gorgeous face and his hand on his affected chest.

"Brute." He snapped, his face creased in pain.

"Dummy." Ophelia snapped at him, teasingly squinting her eyes at him.

There was no denying their resemblance. There were two identical peas from the same pod that were different in terms of their masculine and feminine appearances, from their long dark brown hair to their fiercely hypnotic hazel gray eyes.

Ophelia and River Viadislav were twins.

"This is not the time to have fun!" The raspy strained voice yelled, and an old wrinkling man with long white hair, fuzzy beards, and a large robe that almost swallowed him up appeared in front of them, frowning.

"But we weren't playing," Ophelia muttered, averting her gaze from the old man.

The old man's name was Sheldon, and he served as their mentor and trainer, developing them into formidable warriors to this day. He was very strict and incredibly grumpy.

"Don't talk back to me," He glared angrily at Ophelia. She was the stubborn one.

"We weren't really playing. I think you must be mistaken." River jumped in to defend her. "You are always supporting her." Sheldon scoffed.

"You're distracting her!" He kept complaining.

Despite the fact that he wasn't distracting her and she hadn't been playing, Ophelia didn't speak, not because she didn't want to, but because her words would be meaningless at this time.

Ophelia had carried out the most kills compared to her brother, who was still training while serving as crown prince.

She had been sent on random missions since she was a child to get rid of beings who were threats to her home... her Kingdom Fireria, the home of the fire dragons.

Her family bloodline had always been strong, unstoppable warriors, and it would continue to be so. Sheldon was acting this way right now because she was preparing for her latest mission, one that would almost certainly land her on her death bed soon because she was meeting death himself.

"Sheldon, she should get some rest. And, by the way, Father has called for a family dinner tonight, and you're not going to let her go against my father, are you?" River spoke to the old man calmly, but the threat in his voice and intense gaze was obvious.

Ophelia finally looked the old man in the eyes and watched as he nodded before giving her a rigid glare that made her sigh in frustration. "I appreciate it." Then she hurriedly walked away from the sparring area, not even so much as glancing back.

She took slow steps into a quiet dark hallway, feeling nothing but unease. She had never been more nervous for a mission in her life, not even on her first. She hadn't slept since her father, his adviser, and elders called her and told her the news, and even when she was tired, she never tried to sleep, not because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't.

Ophelia approached her bedroom door, opened it, and walked in, immediately closing it behind her and relaxing her back against the door.

She needed a drink to alleviate her uneasiness, and dinner might be the perfect solution, as they hadn't had a family dinner in years.

She walked towards her bed, and as she got closer, her eyelids became heavy, her head lighter than usual, her heartbeat unexpectedly quickened, and she slumped on it and succumbed to darkness.

In that same darkness, she found herself standing there looking around with a neutral expression. Her bandaged hands were clenched, ready to punch into any attacker's bones.

"Where am i?" Her eyes twinkled in confusion as she asked slowly.

"More importantly, who are you?" Behind her, a deep, husky, velvety smooth voice erupted. She shivered at the voice and turned to face the source of the voice.

Ophelia locked eyes with the mysterious man's blazing dark crimson wolf-like eyes, his inexplicable beauty taking her breath away so much that she forgot to breathe for a moment.

His lips curled into a sly smile and he said. "Aren't you the cutest little firestorm?”

Chapter 2: FEAR OF DEATH?

At that precise moment, Ophelia was unable to comprehend what was happening. A dream, perhaps? And if she was, why was she dreaming about a man she had never met before?

He was just too gorgeously ethereal, like he belonged in a dream.

His piercing crimson wolf eyes informed her that he was a werewolf, but she had sharp enough senses to recognize him as a powerful wolf shifter who was likely a purebred.

If she was having a dream? Why on earth was a strange werewolf in her dream, and why on earth was he so stunningly attractive.

He was practically a silhouette in the darkness, so she hadn't even gotten a good look at him, but she could tell he was built and very tall, likely the same height as her brother.

His words-a firestorm? Ridiculous. All she needed to know was her location.

"Who are you? Where am I?" She demanded sternly that he respond to her questions right away. He laughed in a chilly, dark tone. He kept his cheeky grin on his face. "I am as eager as you are,

firestorm, but I am not complaining." Ophelia's eyes widened as he spoke softly, showing that she had no faith in him at all.

"Stop calling me that." She murmured, attempting to contain her impending rage. Why would anyone refer to her as a firestorm?

"Calling you what?" He asked acting fool, but his voice was surprisingly having an unexpectedly positive effect on her.

"I'm not here to listen to your nonsense," Ophelia snapped, then moaned and dug her fingers into her hair in anger. "I have no idea why I am even here." She grunted.

Perhaps you are here because you are thinking about me," He cooed, and Ophelia's eyes twitched, seeing amusement in those blazing eyes.

It was almost as if they were in a dark cavern with her at the entrance and him at the far end yet, she could feel his strong, violent, dark, and mysterious aura that reeked of death. Her heart actually skipped a beat as fear swept through her body like never before.

"I don't even know you, so how can I be thinking about you." Ophelia asked incredulously, having done a perfect job of holding back her fear for him.

Her mind was constantly warning her that there was danger, but for some reason neither her legs nor his seemed to be moving.

"Why bother?" With a deep chuckle and a click of his tongue, he inquired. "The last thing I remember is falling asleep." He abruptly added.

"You haven't slept in days?" When he nodded, Ophelia exclaimed, "I'm shocked!" and frowned slightly.

"Based on your reaction, you are in the same situation as me, but trust me when I say that mine is much worse." He told her while grinning a little.

Ophelia snorted. What could be more terrible than her life?

"You are a werewolf." She narrowed her eyes at him and whispered deeply."

"You are a dragon." He adopted her tone. "You shouldn't put too much pressure on yourself; it will only lead to death in the end, and everyone will forget about you; you won't matter anymore." He continued slowly this time with his deep, dark tone.

Ophelia noticed something strange about him, the way he spoke... but couldn't explain why or how it affected her.

"By the way, I prefer to be referred to as a lycan because I am a lycan." "Pure bre..?"

"Pure blood." He abruptly cut in. Ophelia's mind jumbled as she processed that information, and as her mind cleared, she began to deny that he couldn't be who she thought he was.

Just because he was a pure blooded lycan didn't mean he was who she thought he was! "We are adversaries." She snarled.

"Did I murder your father?" Unexpectedly, he asked with a flat tone. "What? No!" Ophelia found it impossible to believe him at that moment.

"So why are we at war with each other?" He continued by asking, sounding innocently sarcastic. His voice was just too low, smooth, and effortlessly seductive.

Who was this man? How could his voice have such an unusual effect on her? She couldn't even comprehend or articulate how she felt.

"Are you kidding me?" She rolled her eyes and scoffed. To her, his question was completely stupid and absurd.

"Actually, I am not." She clenched her fist in readiness to strike if he attacked because his voice sounded so grave this time. She didn't have the slightest faith in him and yearned to be awakened from her protracted sleep.

She could no longer see that gorgeous face that she had only partially seen; it was now just his silhouette. She felt her heart quicken as fear overcame her as she heard his cold, deep laughter erupt in the dark. Although it didn't seem to be directed at her, she could feel his anger, which seemed to be a part of him.

She hadn't felt this terrified in so many years. He wasn't even attacking her, but despite her best efforts to hide it from her face, she was terrified of him. He was a lycan, a pure blood one to be exact, and because of this, he could hear her heartbeat clearly and smell the fear she was trying to hide for him.

He said calmly as if he were saying "Hello," "Well, I have to go now. I would have loved. to stick around but I am coming out soon, which means I have so many to meet, places to be, and people to kill."

Ophelia laughed apprehensively but stopped when she only saw his blood-red eyes staring menacingly at her. She thought she was going to be split in half by the piercing gaze. His eyes were icy and resembled an endless, bloody void.

He was serious when he spoke, but what did he mean when he said "coming out soon"? "Is the fire storm scared?" He asked.

She heard him call her that, and an automatic frown of annoyance appeared on her face. "Fuck you!" She hissed.

"How brazen of you to say, Fire Storm, I will undoubtedly track you down and give you the green light to act."

"W..what?" Ophelia stumbled in complete shock. He caused her to stumble on her words, and she couldn't believe it! Sheldon despised that and has made sure she never falters when speaking. The next instant, she maintained her composure and said, "If you come across me, I'll rip your head off of your body. Absolutely repulsive!" She snapped, and for a brief moment she felt his rage shoot at her like an arrow.

"I can sense your hatred, but I'm confident you can sense my rage." This time, his voice was so forceful and menacing that she almost believed he was going to attack her.

Ophelia forced herself to swallow her fear, which was quickly replaced rage. "I'll tell you right now, your kind are nothing but heartless dogs. Nikolai Novikov, you are going to be my first victim when I kill you all!" She suddenly disappeared into the shadows, her golden reptile-like eyes fluttered open, and they sharpened with intense rage.

Chapter 3: DINNER PREPARATIONS

"Gods! What in the world was that?!"

Ophelia mumbled, raking her fingers through her hair and pacing around the room, trying to process what had just happened to her.

She wasn't stupid, of course! Her gut was constantly telling her that it was him, despite her best efforts to deny it because it was simply impossible.

Why so suddenly? Why did she meet him in such an unusual spiritual way? She was actually very motivated to kill him right now. Very, very much.

Ophelia groaned and fell onto her bead, burying her face in it. "Why?! Why?! Why?!" Her screams were muffled.

When she heard a sharp knock on the door, she gasped and raised her head, her golden eyes squinting at the bed board. She was clearly not in the mood to go to the family dinner, she had lost her appetite.

"Who am I going to tell about this? If I tell River, he'll pretend to believe me "

Another set of knocks cut off her words. She jumped off the bed, frowning, and stomped towards it, opening it with the intention of launching on the person and beating him or her to a pulp.

At the level of her current situation, she didn't care if it was one of her siblings or her parents; she just wanted to vent her rage.

"Oh my!" Vera, her beautiful and elegant cousin, let out a dramatic scream. "You're not even dressed! You look horrifyingly disgusting!"

Ophelia stepped back, her eyes rolling. She didn't want to scar her snobbish cousin's beautiful face, who was a real overdramatic being.

"That look you have on your face right now is making you look even worse, darling, so stop it." Vera spoke with a phony elegant accent while disapprovingly waving her hands at her.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead or worse?” Ophelia deadpanned.

Vera scoffed in disbelief, walked into the room past Ophelia, and burst into an annoying laughter that irritated Ophelia.

"Your room is still as plain as ever. You, unlike me, have no taste." Vera, as usual, extolled herself while demeaning others. "I mean, what's with the big book shelf?" She finished with a scoff.

"Father invited the entire family huh?" Ophelia inquired dully, turning to face Vera with a completely uninterested expression.

"You should cherish this moment because it will be the last time you will see your entire family." Vera said this with an elegant tone and a mocking smile.

"Has the dinner begun?" Ophelia asked, a tight smile on her face, suppressing the desire to strangle Vera.

"Unfortunately no, you are the only one who is missing, and I was sent here to dress you up." Vera looked at her with disgust as she spoke.

Vera scoffed in disbelief, walked into the room past Ophelia, and burst into an annoying laughter that irritated Ophelia.

"Your room is still as plain as ever. You, unlike me, have no taste." Vera, as usual, extolled herself while demeaning others. "I mean, what's with the big book shelf?" She finished with a scoff.

"Father invited the entire family huh?" Ophelia inquired dully, turning to face Vera with a completely uninterested expression.

"You should cherish this moment because it will be the last time you will see your entire family." Vera said this with an elegant tone and a mocking smile.

"Has the dinner begun?" Ophelia asked, a tight smile on her face, suppressing the desire to strangle Vera.

"Unfortunately no, you are the only one who is missing, and I was sent here to dress you up." Vera looked at her with disgust as she spoke.

Ophelia returned the disgusted glare, and as the glares intensified, tension rose between the ladies.

After Ophelia had a chance to freshen up. Vera started working her magic on her, relieved that Ophelia's wounds from her earlier training had healed, making her job easier.

She dressed Ophelia in a dinner gown that was as black as night that was adorned with silver diamonds. Given that it belonged to Ophelia and was something Vera had chosen for her from her wardrobe, it was ideal for dinner.

Vera helped the woman sit down in front of the mirror, brushing her hair until it was sleek, straight, and shiny before beaming proudly.

As Vera started applying makeup to her face, Ophelia had her eyes closed and was wondering why she was dressing up so much for a family dinner. She wanted to go back to the sparring ground and train, but still, she didn't want to miss this dinner because it might not happen again.

Ophelia didn't get along well with either of her parents. Her relationship with her father was especially strained because she had come to know to him only as "His royal majesty. Ophelia couldn't simply flow with her mother like she was supposed to, despite the fact that her mother was a passionate, caring woman. Her siblings were much closer to her parents, at least to her, and the other relatives were just relatives because she couldn't rely on any of them.

"It's cold in here, and there's not enough fire in the fireplace." Vera, who was now applying pink lip gloss to her lips with complete concentration, complained.

"It is not my fault that the world is blanketed in eternal winter." Ophelia frowned.

"However, your demise will be your fault." Vera snorted. "Why can't you refuse the mission? Do you know what I've heard about him? Ophelia, he is not your average prey."

Ophelia laughed. "Stop talking; one might think you're concerned about me." She muttered something.

"Psh! Who is concerned?" Vera laughed.

Despite their diametrically opposed personalities, Ophelia and Vera clicked perfectly and clearly cared for each other, even when they tried to deny it.

"Done." Vera chimed.

"Finally," Ophelia groaned, fluttered her eyes open, which had returned to their hazel gray state. She smiled admiring herself as she looked stunning as usual and Vera, had a proud expression on her face.

"I have an uncanny ability to make anyone look perfect." She complimented herself and blew a kiss to her reflection in the mirror.

Ophelia rolled her eyes, stood up, and put on her shoes. "We should get going. I'm already starving." She said casually.

"Yes, yes, no delay," Vera nodded excitedly while still displaying her self-confidence on her face and Ophelia rolled her eyes.

With the exception of the continuous sounds of their footsteps, silence reigned upon them as they stepped out of the room and began walking in the bright hallway.

Every sound of their unusually synchronized footsteps transported Ophelia's mind back to the darkness she had earlier appeared in. The same darkness where she met and spoke to him. Those crimson eyes filled with bloodlust, his words, his rage... Fear enveloped her once more.

Her heart began to race, her lips quivered, her eyes flashed in their gold reptile form, and she barely whispered, "Nikolai Novikov.”

Chapter 4: MEMORIES?

With his eyes sealed shut, the darkness that encompassed his vision was like a dreadful unending abyss.

Nikolai didn't think there was anything more torturing than falling into an abyss where one could not escape from, and just when he thought he would sink straight into the inescapable pit, his eyes immediately snapped open, revealing his Ruby-colored dark orbs.

His breathing came out sharp and short as his eyes momentarily fixated themselves against the neat ceiling. With his vision blurry, he waited until his eyes adjusted to the light of the room before he finally blinked_then blinked some more.

His eyes squinted curiously when the ceiling above looked totally different from the ceiling he was usually fond of staring at.

Unlike the usual dark ceiling that reminded him of his gloominess, this particular one looked neat and nicely structured, which definitely shouldn't be how a prison would be structured.

Another thing he took notice of was the comfiness of the bed he laid on. It was pleasantly soft and soothing to his aching skin, and that left him all the more confused.

Did he die and end up in heaven? Not that he hadn't died before.

Propping his elbows against both sides of the bed, he carefully tried to lift himself up into a sitting position, but in the process, a searing pain shot through his head to his brain, and he winced, placing a hand to the side of his head.

"Ssssss." He hissed out when the pain almost blinded his vision, and he paused once more in his movement, waiting for the pain to dissipate a little before shifting himself up to a sitting position and rested his back against the wooden headboard.

Releasing a harsh breath like someone who just finished working out, his gaze swept across the unfamiliar room as he took notice of his surroundings.

The room he was in looked very spacious and pleasing to the eyes. The ceilings were a deep royal purple inlaid with patterns that stretched elegantly from the walls down to the tiled floor.

The large bed he was presently resting on was wrapped with the finest silken sheets that tended to soothe his skin.

The curtains hiding the windows at each side where off light purple coloration, and on the bedstand was a vase of different flowers. The sweet appealing mixtures of the scents filled the room, and Nikolai was silently starting to believe he may have ended up in heaven.

But people don't feel pain in heaven right??

"Arghh.. Where where am I?" With his head still pounding non-stop, Nikolai tried to get out of bed

to find something that could ease him of the headache.

He let out a loud growl and dug his fingers into his hair as if doing so would cure the ear ringing headache. "What the hell!" He yelled out in rage and raised his body into a sitting position.

His eyes were closed, his breathing was labored, and he was rubbing his face trying to numb the pain, which was only intensifying.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a chilly breeze blew into the room, mixing with a potent familiar scent he hadn't smelled in three hundred years.

Nikolai laughed deeply and menacingly as he struggled with a headache that appeared to be getting worse.

"Nikolai," A gentle female voice called, but it only served to inflame an already extreme rage in Nikolai who was still laughing like he had just heard a joke.

When he heard the female sigh, he seized his laughter and moved his gaze to the beautiful woman in front of him. She appeared divine as usual, and in his eyes, she had not aged a day since he last saw her.

Nikolai knew her as mother, Alina Novikov, Luna of the great Continent Celestia of wolf shifters.

It was from her that he had inherited his some his features from-her long shiny midnight black hair, her small face that always wore a warm expression to her sparkling olive green eyes and petite curvy statue.

Nikolai had long midnight black hair and olive green eyes that were hidden behind crimson eyes filled with blood lust.

Her current worried expression made him stare at her with venom, and a deep voice full of displeasure erupted from his throat, "This is not my room."

"I and your father thought it would be good for a new environment as that room would bring..."

"Memories?" Nikolai cut her off with a scoff of complete disbelier, then smiled brightly as if he wasn't feeling pain in his head anymore.

His smile suddenly faded, his crimson eyes flashing fiercely, "You both disgust me to the point of death but don't worry, I love you two dearly." He whispered ominously and clicked his tongue, looking away from her.

Alina's heart ached upon seeing her son in this state, but what hurt her the most was that despite her best efforts, she was unable to help him. She was unable to approach him as closely as she would have liked because of the darkness and rage he was emitting. She remained standing near the open door.

"Nikolai, I.."

"Go away. Can't you see I'm not in the mood for a depressing conversation? I fell into a strange deep sleep, and you all took advantage of the opportunity to bring me back without even attempting to wake me up!" Laying back on the plush bed, Nikolai loudly groaned while raising his voice.

Alina looked at her son with a worried expression as soon as his eyes closed. She had heard that Nikolai had been discovered unconscious and that, after exhausting all attempts to wake him, they had to simply return him to the imperial castle. Alina was aware of their joy and believed that if Nikolai hadn't been awake, he would have killed them all.

"Did you have a dream?" Alina inquired slowly and with intense interest. "Something like that,"

"So?" Nikolai sensed Alina's eagerness.

"I met a fifthly yet alluring dragon," he revealed curtly, returning to a sitting position and smiling menacingly at his mother, who now had widened eyes. "Tell me, Alina Novikov, why did you suddenly ask if I had a dream? Did you know I'd be dreaming about that dragon?”

Chapter 5: THICK SKIN

Ophelia sat at the dinner table, staring at the ruby-colored wine in her crystal glass, which reminded her of Nikolai's crimson eyes. She couldn't take those eyes out of her head and was still shaken by the experience. Why did she see the being she was supposed to kill in a strange dream?

"Are you alright, Ophelia?"

Her brother River, who noticed she was deep in thought, brought her back to the present. All eyes on the table were drawn to her, but she couldn't be bothered with family drama because she had a lot on her plate.

"Yes, I just need to eat that's all,"

"Yes, you should eat; you haven't been eating well lately." River expressed his concern.

"She has more important things to worry about than eating." Her father, King Rodion, spoke up. "After all, if it doesn't bring Fireria victory, it only means she's dead.”

Ophelia's lips twitched in response to her father's remark as she picked up the glass and drank all of the wine at once. She hadn't expected less from her father; in fact, she had expected the opposite because there was no way a word of encouragement could come from him. She didn't need it anyway.

"Half of the women her age are already married. I recommend that you make sure she gets married as soon as she finishes the job." Her aunt, duchess Reina, and Vera's mother began, and Ophelia rolled her eyes at the words that had always ruined her mood. "However, it will be unfortunate for her because of her disrespectful behavior." Reina suppressed a smile.

Ophelia caught her lips between her teeth and sighed unbotheredly. "You don't have to worry about me, aunt Reina; I look like an eighteen-year-old human, not like you, who hides her wrinkles with makeup and fake affection."

"Ophelia!" Duke Osric, Reina's husband, yelled out, glaring furiously at Ophelia, who casually slid her fingers across the crystal glass. He dared not slam the table in front of her father.

Not all of the family members were present as expected. Rodion had a strained relationship with his siblings and forbade her mother's family from associating themselves with the castle. it was a relief that they were well off and didn't need Rodion's assistance, despite the fact that he was king.

"She has thick skin." Maxim, her cousin and Vera's brother, chuckled amusedly while concentrating on his food. "With one punch, she will undoubtedly knock out the alpha heir."

"And die in the process, Vera mumbled as she elegantly placed a spoon of food in her mouth.

"It's time for dinner. It would be ideal if it remained a dinner rather than a brawl." Queen Elora spoke calmly, her worried gaze fixed on her nonchalant daughter.

Of course, her mother would support her in this type of conversation, but she would never save her from her power-hungry husband.

Fireria was a large and powerful kingdom of fire dragons located on the western region of Draconem's continent. The royal bloods of Fireria were golden dragons, powerful beings with the blood of unconquerable warriors, but no golden dragon, not even her brother who was the heir to the throne, had trained as much as Ophelia.

Currently, Her father, King Rodion, was engaged in conflict with Celestia and Antica, the kingdom of ice dragons situated in the northern region of Draconem. To him, those were the most serious threats to Fireria's survival, and despite the fact that the ice dragons were extinct, with only one remaining, he was determined to destroy the kingdom at any cost.

When it came to destroying Antica, she couldn't blame her father. The last ice dragon was a ruthless being, and the worst part was that from the moment he was born, the entire world was blanketed in eternal winter. Every part, including Fireria, was affected by the cold, and those who couldn't handle it died like weak wingless birds.

Ophelia couldn't understand why Celestia and Ophelia were at odds. Though she had killed many who had been sent to attack Fireria and vice versa, she had never gone to the battleground because her father had always forbidden her. Everything was strange to Ophelia, but she had been convinced thousands of times that they were nothing more than heartless dogs, especially the royal pure blooded lycans who could almost be considered immortal because they had the same lifespan as dragons.

A few days ago, Ophelia was summoned to the council of elders where she was informed that she had been tasked with killing the alpha heir to Celestia.

Yes, she was shocked because she had never anticipated being asked to kill such a being so quickly, but she also knew that she wouldn't have been asked to do it if he hadn't posed a threat to her family and home.

Nikolai Novikov. Who would have thought that she would encounter him in such a strange way?

"There is no way we can avoid discussing Ophelia's most recent mission. If she is successful, Fireria will be saved, Elora." In the dining room, she heard a recurrent deep voice that always made her feel as though needles were being inserted into her brain.

She heard River say, "Hello there, Uncle," but she didn't take her eyes off her plate. She was afraid to look at the man's face.

"Lev!" Elora suddenly called with a gasp.

When Ophelia heard that name, her eyes slightly widened. She finally raised her gaze to her uncle, Lord Esteban, her father's third brother and right-hand man. He maintained his unflattering smile, but she turned her attention to the young man next to him who was wearing a glum expression and had eyes that were similar to hers in color and length: shoulder- length dark brown hair.

When their gazes met, an image of an old memory flashed through her mind, showing her a younger version of herself in the midst of a golden fire, looking helpless and gasping for air like she was trying to control herself, while a younger version of Lev lay in front of her, unconscious and with all of his visible skin severely burned.

Ophelia jolted to her feet. "Lev." She exclaimed breathlessly as they locked gazes. "Sister," he said calmly, his dull expression replaced by one of excitement.

The same memory flashed through her mind again, and she felt a searing headache as guilt and shock flashed through her eyes.

"Ophelia?" River called, and he sounded concerned.

Her empty stomach turned harshly as she saw worry in those eyes she locked with. "Lev." She called again, this time taking a deep, hard breath. He was her younger brother, whom she had not set her eyes on since that memory...

When she noticed he had taken a step toward where she was standing, her fingers turned cold, and she hastily moved away from the chair and ran out of the dining room without a word.

Those images were becoming clearer with each step she took down the hall, and no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't run away from what had happened that day.