Marcus' POV
My hands erupted in golden fire.
Not real fire. No heat. No pain. Just light that pulsed with each heartbeat.
"Marcus?" Isadora backed away, eyes wide. "What's happening?"
"I don't know!" The light grew brighter, spreading up my arms. "It's like... like something's waking up inside me."
The voice returned. That ancient, inhuman voice from the tower:
"Fifty guards approach. Innocent lives threatened. The dragon blood offers power. But power demands price. Will you pay?"
"What price?" I said out loud.
Isadora stared. "Who are you talking to?"
"Your humanity. Your control. Each time you call the dragon, you lose a piece of who you were. Use it too much, and Marcus DeLuca disappears. Only the beast remains."
My stomach dropped. "That's a hell of a price."
"All power costs. Choose quickly. They come."
The torches outside moved closer. I heard boots. Swords being drawn. Orders shouted.
"Marcus, what's going on?" Isadora grabbed my glowing hand. She didn't flinch from the light. "Talk to me."
"There's a voice. Ancient magic or something. It's offering power to fight them off, but..." I met her eyes. "It says if I use it too much, I'll lose myself. Become something that's not human anymore."
She didn't let go. "How much is too much?"
"It didn't say."
"Then we don't use it." She pulled me toward the hidden passage. "We run. Find another way."
"They'll burn Lowtown."
"We'll warn them. Get people out."
"Fifty guards, Isadora. They'll hunt down anyone who runs. You know they will." I looked at our joined hands—hers normal, mine glowing. "This power is the only advantage we have."
"It's not worth losing yourself!"
I thought about Chicago. About Vinnie's betrayal. About dying alone in an alley with nothing but regrets.
Then I thought about Dante. About the way servants looked at me with hope instead of fear. About Isadora risking everything to save a stranger in a dead prince's body.
Maybe losing myself was worth it if I could save them.
"I'm using it," I said.
"Marcus, no—"
I pulled free and ran downstairs before she could stop me.
The front door burst open. Guards poured in, swords raised.
I thrust my hands forward.
Golden light exploded outward like a wave. Guards flew backward, crashing into walls, furniture, each other.
But I felt it—a piece of something important slipping away. Like forgetting a name you knew a second ago.
More guards charged. I sent another blast. They scattered like bowling pins.
Another piece gone. What was it? A memory? An emotion?
"Stop!" Evangeline stepped through the broken doorway, smiling. "How impressive. The possessed prince has teeth."
"I'm not possessed."
"No?" She gestured at my glowing hands. "That looks pretty demonic to me. I'm sure the people will agree when we tell them you attacked the King's guards with dark magic."
"You threatened to burn Lowtown!"
"And you just assaulted fifty royal guards. I wonder which crime sounds worse to the public?" Her smile widened. "Surrender now, and we'll only execute you. Fight, and we execute everyone who helped you. Starting with that pretty Lady Thorne."
Rage flooded through me. The golden light burned brighter.
"Careful. Emotion feeds the dragon. Feeds the transformation."
I forced myself to calm down. Breathe. Think.
Fifty guards outside. Evangeline inside. Isadora upstairs. Lowtown hostages.
In Chicago, I'd talked my way out of worse corners. But these people didn't negotiate. They destroyed.
"One minute to decide," Evangeline said. "Then we start burning."
A hand touched my shoulder. Isadora, standing beside me.
"Together," she whispered. "Whatever happens."
Something shifted in my chest. Not the dragon magic. Something else. Deeper.
Aurelius's memories slammed into me like a truck.
---
Suddenly I wasn't me. I was Aurelius, six months ago, in the library at midnight.
Isadora sat across from me, reading poetry by candlelight. Her voice was soft, musical.
"You're not listening," she teased.
"I am. You just read about... flowers?"
She laughed. "Roses. Symbolizing forbidden love."
My heart raced. "Is there someone... do you have forbidden feelings for someone?"
Her grey eyes met mine. For a moment, I thought—hoped—
"No," she said finally. "Just stories. My life's too complicated for love."
"Mine too," I lied. Because loving her felt impossible. I was weak. Pathetic. She deserved someone strong.
The memory shifted.
Now I was running through dark hallways, letter in hand. The Covenant's meeting notes. Proof of their conspiracy.
Had to reach Father. Had to tell Isadora.
Footsteps behind me. Getting closer.
I ran faster. Turned a corner—
Hands grabbed me. Pushed.
I fell. Screaming. The balcony rail disappeared. Sky and stone spinning—
Pain exploded. Everything went dark.
But before the darkness, I heard her voice. Isadora. Screaming my name.
---
I gasped, back in my own mind. Or Marcus's mind. Or whoever I was now.
"Marcus?" Isadora shook me. "What's wrong? You went completely still."
"I saw... I felt..." I looked at her. "He loved you. Aurelius. He died loving you."
Her face went white. "What?"
"The memories. They're getting stronger. I felt everything he felt." My voice cracked. "He thought he wasn't good enough. That you deserved better."
Tears filled her eyes. "That idiot. I would've—" She stopped. Looked away. "It doesn't matter now. He's gone."
"But his feelings aren't. They're here. In me. Getting harder to tell where he ends and I begin."
"How touching." Evangeline slow-clapped. "The dead prince's ghost love story. Now surrender, or—"
"Wait." Dante pushed through the guards, breathless. "My lady, you need to see this."
Evangeline's smile faltered. "See what?"
"Lowtown. Come look."
She marched outside. I followed, Isadora beside me.
What I saw made my heart stop.
Every building in Lowtown had people on the roofs. Hundreds of them. Men, women, even kids. All holding torches. All watching the estate.
"What is this?" Evangeline demanded.
Dante grinned. "Lowtown's answer. You burn us, we burn you. Every torch you see is ready to set fire to noble estates. The palace. Everything."
"You wouldn't dare—"
"Try us." An old woman's voice rang out from the nearest roof. "We got nothing left to lose. You already took everything. But the prince? The prince sees us. Talks to us like we're human. So if he burns, we all burn. Together."
The crowd roared agreement.
Evangeline's face twisted with rage. "This is treason!"
"This is loyalty," Dante said quietly. "Something the Covenant wouldn't understand."
The guards shifted nervously. They were outnumbered now. Massively.
Evangeline turned to me. Her mask was gone. Only cold fury remained.
"This isn't over."
"Yeah, it is." I stepped forward, golden light still flickering around my hands. "Tell your Covenant that the possessed prince says hello. And next time they come for me, they better bring more than fifty guards."
She stared. For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes.
Then she spun and marched away, guards scrambling to follow.
The moment they were gone, I collapsed.
The light died. Exhaustion hit like a hammer.
Isadora caught me. "I got you."
"Did we... did we win?"
"For now." She helped me sit. "But Marcus, that magic—"
"I know. Piece by piece." I looked at my normal hands. How many pieces left before I wasn't me anymore?
Dante approached. "Lowtown's asking for you. They want to meet the prince who fought for them."
"I'm not really—"
"Doesn't matter." He smiled. "You're the prince they needed. That's enough."
I let them help me up. Walked to the edge of the estate.
The rooftops erupted in cheers.
These people. They were risking everything for a stranger. For hope.
In Chicago, I bought loyalty. Here, I earned it by accident. By trying to do the right thing.
Aurelius's thing.
Maybe the prince wasn't as gone as I thought.
Isadora leaned close. "What you said. About Aurelius loving me."
"I'm sorry. That probably—"
"Did it feel real? The memory?"
I remembered the flutter in my chest when she laughed. The certainty that she deserved better.
"Yeah. It felt real."
She was quiet a moment. "Good. Because I loved him too. Was just too scared to say it."
My heart twisted. Aurelius's heart? Mine? Both?
Before I could respond, Dante's face went pale. He stared at something behind me.
"My prince... that symbol on your hand..."
I looked down. The golden light was gone, but something remained. A mark on my palm, glowing faintly.
A dragon. Wings spread. Ancient and terrible and beautiful.
"The bond accepts you. Dragon tamer awakens. But beware—the Covenant knows this mark. They have hunted your kind for two centuries. They will not stop until you are dead."
The voice faded.
I looked up at Isadora. "What does this mean?"
Her face was ashen. "It means everything just got a lot more complicated. Dragon tamers aren't just rare, Marcus. They're the one thing the Covenant fears. The one power they can't control."
"Why?"
"Because two hundred years ago, dragon tamers almost destroyed them. The Covenant's been hunting every last bloodline to extinction ever since." She grabbed my marked hand. "If they know you're one of them..."
"They'll kill me."
"Worse. They'll make an example of you. Public execution. Torture. Anything to prove that dragon tamers are evil."
The cheering from Lowtown faded in my ears.
I'd escaped death twice. Found allies. Survived the impossible.
But now I wore a target that couldn't be hidden. A mark that screamed what I was.
"How long until they figure it out?" I asked.
Isadora's eyes met mine. Sad. Resigned.
"They already know. That mark glows. Every Covenant agent within ten miles just saw it."
Right on cue, bells started ringing across the city.
Not alarm bells.
Execution bells.