CHAPTER 38: PHOENIX BRIDE

For a moment, everything was still.

The lights of the Mirage Fair hung motionless in the air, frozen mid-glow, as if time itself had stopped listening to the music. Even the wind had gone quiet.

Then came the cold.

It crept across the ground like a living thing, spreading from somewhere unseen, touching the tips of my shoes before I even realized what was happening. I looked down and the stone beneath us had turned to ice.

"Lucian..." I called softly as fear got the best of me. My voice came out as a whisper, fragile against the silence.

He didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, his body tense, every movement deliberate as if even breathing too loudly might shatter the fragile stillness surrounding us.

And then, out of the mist, a figure began to take shape.

Tall. Regal. Wrapped in layers of frost so thick that the air around him shimmered. The faint sound of cracking ice followed each step he took.

Lucian’s hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t do anything.

"Father," he said finally, his tone flat, emotionless.

The figure stopped a few paces away, his presence commanding enough to make the air feel thinner. The frost beneath our feet deepened with every breath he took, spreading outward like veins of glass.

Even without looking at him directly, I could feel the chill crawl up my spine. This wasn’t just cold, it was power, the kind that pressed against your chest until you forgot how to breathe.

Lucian stood his ground, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn’t be here," he said quietly.

His father’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Shouldn’t I?" His voice was smooth, but the undertone carried weight, something sharp enough to cut through the silence. "My son ignores his duties, gets married without inviting me, and doesn’t even bother to introduce his wife to his father. So," he stepped forward, frost curling faintly at his feet, "I decided to come meet her myself."

Lucian’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t flinch. "You’ve made your point."

"Have I?" The older dragon tilted his head, his icy gaze shifting toward me. "Because I fail to understand what drove the heir of the Frost Clan to take a phoenix for a bride."

The temperature dropped instantly. Frost spread across the ground in thin, glimmering lines, reaching for the hem of my dress.

But his father only smiled faintly, as if amused. "Tell me, little phoenix," he said, his tone deceptively soft. "Do you truly believe fire and ice can coexist without destroying each other?"

Lucian’s voice was low, clipped. "That’s enough."

Then his father laughed, a sound sharp enough to make the lanterns above flicker. "How noble," he murmured. "You think blood vows are enough to hold together what nature itself divides. Fire and frost will never last, my son. You’ll destroy each other."

Lucian’s composure finally cracked. His voice cut through the air, low but edged with fury. "Is that what you told yourself when you destroyed Mother?"

The older dragon’s expression froze, the faint amusement in his eyes vanishing in an instant. The frost beneath his feet deepened, spreading outward like a warning.

"Careful, Lucian," he said softly. "You tread close to disrespect."

Lucian took a slow step forward, meeting his father’s glare head-on. "You speak of balance and fate, but even when you and Mother came from the same frost, you destroyed her too."

For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence was deafening, so heavy it felt like the entire Fair was holding its breath.

His father’s voice, when it came, was low and cold. "You know nothing of what happened."

Lucian scoffed bitterly, "I know nothing? After you get married again, I came to the conclusion, father... that was enough. You got married just three months after my mother’s death!"

Lucian’s words struck the air like a blade, sharp and heavy with years of buried resentment.

His father’s expression didn’t waver, but the faint shimmer of frost around him deepened, crawling up the nearby lantern poles like veins of ice. "Watch your tone," he warned quietly. "You forget who you’re speaking to."

But Lucian didn’t flinch. "No," he said, voice low, shaking slightly, not from fear, but from the force of holding too much in for too long. "You forget who she was. My mother stood by you through every war, every council, every cursed prophecy that came your way and you replaced her before her ashes had even cooled."

The older dragon’s eyes hardened, glacial and distant. "You think you understand love because you’ve tasted a moment of it?"

Lucian’s jaw clenched. "No, I understand loyalty," he shot back. "Something you only remember when it serves your pride."

A deep crack split the ground between them, frost blooming in jagged lines that glowed faintly under the dim light. The air itself trembled.

For the first time, his father’s composure wavered, just slightly. His gaze flicked toward me, as if remembering I was there, and the tension sharpened into something darker. "Careful, my son," he said quietly. "Defy me all you wish but do not let her become your undoing."

Lucian stepped closer, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Then I’ll fall by her side before I ever stand by yours again."

"Lucian Drake!" His father’s voice roared through the Fair, the sound shaking the air itself. Frost burst outward from where he stood, crawling across the cobblestones and up the sides of the lantern poles until the light itself seemed to freeze. "Stop being rebellious! At your age, you should know better, nothing good comes from marrying a phoenix! Those foolish blood vows our ancestors made were nothing more than superstition! Old tales to romanticize disaster!"

Lucian’s expression hardened, but his father didn’t stop. His words came sharp and venomous, each one colder than the last.

"You think your firebird will save you? You think she will understand the burden you carry as heir to the Frost Line?!" His gaze snapped toward me, and I flinched at the weight of it. "She will be the end of you, boy. The end of our line. Do you think her kind stays when the flames fade?"

"Enough!" Lucian’s voice ripped through the air, raw with fury.

The ground beneath him split, releasing a surge of blinding frost that clashed violently with his father’s. The collision sent a shockwave through the Fair, scattering shards of ice and ribbons of cold mist in every direction. The two forces collided like twin storms, their power so immense it distorted the air itself.

I stumbled back, the wind cutting against my skin like glass. The temperature dropped in an instant... So cold I could see my breath turn to crystals before my eyes. My body trembled uncontrollably. ’Not again... I can’t—’

Before the thought could finish, warmth exploded from within me.

A burst of golden light ignited around my body, swirling upward like a living flame. It spread out in a perfect sphere, shimmering and fluid, forming a radiant wall that shielded me from the deadly frost tearing through the air.

The ice struck it but instead of piercing through, the flames absorbed it, melting the shards before they could touch me. Sparks danced at the barrier’s edge, glowing with an otherworldly hue that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.

I blinked in disbelief. "What... what is this?" I whispered, watching the sphere of light flame flicker and twist, almost as if it were alive.

Lucian turned instantly, his eyes widening. "Celeste—"

The sight of me encased in fire stopped Lucian mid-sentence. His father, too, froze where he stood, the frost in his hands faltering as his gaze locked onto the light surrounding me.

"That flame..." the elder dragon murmured, his voice suddenly quieter, almost wary. "It is not supposed to exist."