ZadeDeep inside the forge, the heat was almost tangible, and the air was heavy with the smell of coal and the sulfurous aroma of glowing metal. I watched as the royal armorer's hammer struck the anvil with a rhythmic, metallic ring. With every blow, sparks danced in the gloom, but in my mind, it wasn't the metal taking shape; it was Eira's face, exactly as I had last seen her: distorted by pain and humiliation.You want to own me. Her words echoed inside me like a slow poison. Noctis acknowledged my inner turmoil with a low growl at the edge of my consciousness. My dragon didn't understand human complications; he only knew the bond, the wild, ancient desire to protect what was his. But Eira wasn't an object. Not a dragon's hoard to be locked away in a cave."They are ready, my prince," the blacksmith spoke, breaking my thoughts.He slid a dark velvet-lined wooden box across the table toward me. I opened it.Six daggers lay inside, arranged in two rows. They weren't ceremonial weapons
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