Cassian Veyne wasn’t built to kneel. Not to kings. Not to fate. And sure as hell not to the flameborn heir who threatened to gut him with a single glare.

Seraphine Drakar was prophecy wrapped in leather and fire—a dragon shifter bred for war, crowned in legacy, and sharp enough to burn anyone stupid enough to get close. And yet, when the Hollow stirred beneath the bones of the realm, it was Cassian the empire called.

Stormfire pulsed in his veins. Outlawed. Untamed. Dangerous.

She hated him on sight. He didn’t care. Because from the second she aimed her blade at his throat, he knew one thing for damn sure—

He was going to ruin her.

Bound by prophecy. Hunted by monsters. Entangled in a quest to reforge the only weapon that could seal the breach between worlds… they were supposed to work together.

Instead, they fought. They bled. They burned.

And every time she barked an order, he imagined what her voice would sound like begging instead.

She was the heir to a dying kingdom.
He was the bastard fire built to destroy it.
And gods help them both—he liked it when she drew blood.