Another roar ripped through the palace and shook the dust off the tomb's walls. Oliver felt his stomach drop.

"Where is he?" He asked darkly.

"The sanctum." Draco's mother said. She swayed for a moment in despair, and Oliver caught her in his arms.

She also knew what the roar meant. Draco was undergoing a shift, but there hadn't been a successful shift in a millennium. Draco's chances were dismally low.

Oliver picked up Draco's mother, making her yelp. "Tell me where to go."

She swallowed her pride and pointed to a different staircase, indicating the direction he needed to go. With her in his arms, he took off with incredible tenacity. He raced through the foreign halls and pathways, dodging the alarmed guards who saw him holding the Queen Mother.

When they converged on them, she yelled for them to stand down, and Oliver effortlessly leaped over their line of defense and continued to run forward.

The guards did not fight him but followed them with swords drawn. He watched them in his peripheral to ensure they would not attack and continued onward.

"Down those stairs." Draco's mother said and pointed to a staircase that was practically hidden away.

He ran down without stopping, and she tugged on his sleeve. "There are several doors that are locked. The guards have the keys."

"No time." He gritted his teeth and forced the magic to flow through his body. Frost covered the floors and the walls within an instant, and an ice spear formed from his hand and shot toward the door.

The wood splintered and broke as Oliver ran through, making the guards cry out.

"Magic?" Draco's mother shivered, and her eyes were wide.

Oliver concentrated on the next door, and like the same, the door broke apart. An army of footsteps was behind him, and he could hear the many guards exclaiming about his powers.

However, at the next door, Oliver's feet stopped suddenly, and he slid across the smooth stone. A spear was aimed at his head, and he ducked quickly beneath it.

"Unhand the Queen Mother!" A man decked in armor braced himself in front of Oliver with his spear out.

Oliver ignored him and looked at the massive doors behind the man.

"Elder Minos, stand down." Draco's mother said quietly and tapped Oliver's shoulder. "He is inside."

Another roar rumbled through the air, making weaker men fall to their knees. Oliver was still holding on to Draco's mother, so she was unaffected by the pressure.

However, a sob racked her body, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "Gods, we may be too late."

"Let me in," Oliver said to Minos.

"Lord Kardos..." she called out, but her tone softened when he didn't respond. "Oliver... If you go in there and he shifts, you will die."

Oliver didn't respond and continued to glower at the guard. He set Draco's mother down on the ground and took another step forward.

She grabbed his sleeve, pausing his steps. "If he doesn't make it, at least you will still live. He would be happy with that."

Oliver shook his head. "He said it will be easier if a lover is with a Lyrell during the transition."

"This is just a legend... a myth..." She said quietly.

"Wishes... magic... prophecies.... those are myths, but we are still living them today."

"I may have asked you to leave before, but I do not wish for your death. Support him from here, behind the safety of the sanctum's walls."

"You should have already learned that you cannot force me to do as you please, Queen Mother. Once again, I refuse."

She watched him carefully, suddenly struck by the small details she had failed to notice before. He was unwavering and relentless to a fault. But his dark violet eyes captured her, and she marveled at how a young face could have such ancient-looking eyes. Oliver was an old soul with wisdom that rivaled hers.

More prevalent was his overwhelming devotion to Draco, willing to tear apart his body, limb by limb, to stay by his side. He cared little about enduring the wrath of a kingdom or facing a mad dragon. He only cared for Draco.

She felt her heartache. She grabbed Oliver's hands and pulled him close. "Never have I been proven so wrong so quickly." Her words were so quiet that only the two of them could hear. "I will trust you, Oliver. I leave the fate of my son in your hands."

"Unhand her!" A terrible yell from Elder Minos broke them apart.  Oliver pushed Draco's mother out of harm's way and avoided the blow.

"You will be detained. Guards!" He called out, and a slew of men surrounded Oliver with spears aimed at him.

Oliver rounded on the soldiers with a snarl. "To hell with that. Not only do you lack the skills to kill me, but you also lack the courage. Stand aside."

Minos yelled and charged with his spear. Draco's mother called out to stop him, but he ignored her.

Oliver sneered and spun to evade the spear. He shot out and grasped Minos' neck with a hand. Minos tried to cry out, but Oliver's grip blocked his words. He dropped his spear and clawed at Oliver's hand.

"Unlock the door." He commanded in a cold and steely voice. The men unconsciously shivered when they heard him.

Another man walked through the group of guards, and Oliver recognized him as the old Rucrean General, Aris.

"It is the King's order to keep this door shut," Aris said as he lowered his spear to aim at Oliver.

Oliver laughed coldly. "I love your King, General, but you will disobey him today."

"I cannot allow this," Aris said, and his killing intent seeped out.

Oliver threw Minos away, leaving him sputtering and choking to the side.

"Take the Queen Mother out of here," Oliver commanded.

She wanted to protest, but the guards did not want to lose this chance to protect her from the crazed Kardos man. They quickly pulled her out of the tunnels while Oliver watched her departure.

Oliver waited until he no longer felt her energy in the tunnels. He turned towards Airs and his gaze twisted into a glower. His lips curled into a dark smile, and he released his killing intent. Thirty years of war and slaughter followed him like a shadow, and he never revealed it to this extent until this moment.

Most of the guards collapsed, and the others backed away with terror. Aris felt the spear in his hands tremble.

"Who has the key?" Oliver asked.

"I do," Aris said.

Oliver scoffed. "Who is your subordinate?"

Aris' eyes fell on a familiar man. He recognized him as the advisor who always stood by Draco's side.

"Future General," Oliver called out to the man. "Once I kill Aris, you will be taking his title. When you do, you will open that goddamn door."

"You think you can kill me?" Aris goaded.

Oliver sneered. "I will kill you, and then I will kill every one of your subordinates until someone gives me the key."

"You speak of slaughter so easy."

"Only because it would be so easy." His last words were filled with dark malice and rage. He lowered himself, ready to attack.

Any man who had been ensnared in a long war and contributed to countless deaths would birth darkness within themselves. Oliver had long caged his away, but at this moment, it stirred, distorting his killing intent to something malevolent.

Aris cursed inwardly. "He had spent days fighting for you, trying to convince the people of your good intentions, and this is how you reward him? Threaten to kill all of his men? We are his shield and spear!"

"If you had let me in initially, you wouldn't have been threatened." Oliver clicked his tongue with disdain.

"If you wish to be his spouse, you must consider the people's opinion."

Oliver stalked towards him. "Your opinion is menial compared to his life. Open. The. Fucking. Door."

Aris shook his head. "I can't."

"He could die in that room!" Oliver yelled.

"He could."

Oliver didn't feel the tears streaming down his face.  He only felt the fear of knowing that Draco could die by himself. Long ago, Draco was there for his last moments, and now a door stood in the way of Oliver being with him.

"If he dies in that room alone, then I will be the scourge of Rucrea, the butcher of your people! I will be the ghost that haunts your nightmares until you tear your own eyes out in despair!" Oliver's voice was guttural and feral, wanting to bite all who were near. But laced in his malicious words was soul-crushing anguish.

His threats were answered with another roar from Draco behind the doors.

While the guards trembled and cowered, Aris stood firm. But he didn't show fear or even anger from these words. Oliver's words were evil, but Aris could see his eyes dripped with desperation to be near Draco.

Aris released a long breath, lowered his spear, and placed his hands on Oliver's shoulders. "Are you aware that he ordered this so you could be safe?"

"I know." His words were just a whisper, but everyone could hear him in this small tunnel. "But you encouraged him to dive into those dreams... and now he is by himself as he relives... everything."

"Lord Kardos..."

"You do not know the horrors you opened up for him. No one should experience it alone. Please, just let me go in."

Aris didn't respond but looked conflicted. 

"Give me the key, General. If we come out alive, then I will offer myself up for punishment."

"What?"

"Anything you deem appropriate for my actions; imprisonment, whippings, lacerations, dismemberment... I'll accept all of it."

When Aris was still silent, Oliver lowered himself into a humble bow. "Please," he begged in a broken voice.

Aris clenched his teeth but pulled a key from a chain around his neck. Several people tried to protest by Aris silenced them when he held up a hand.

"If he dies when you are with him, then what?"

Oliver raised his head and took the key. "Then I would have to disappoint an old dragon by wasting a wish and die with him."

The guards moved aside, letting him approach the door. He inserted the key and turned it in the lock, hearing a satisfying click.

"The chances of your death are astronomically high," Aris said.

Oliver turned back and smiled brilliantly. "Dear General, there are worse ways to die."

He opened the door slightly and slipped in. The large door slammed closed, making the men outside flinch.

"General, are we truly going to let him get away with his crass words?" A guard asked.

Aris sighed. "We are merely soldiers in King Draco's army, but we are anxious for his success. Imagine the fear his lover must be feeling now. It is enough to yell and threaten all who stand in his way. His anger is understandable, considering the situation. So, don't take his words to heart... at that moment, he was simply a man who was blinded by his beloved's suffering."

"But... he threatened to destroy Rucrea..."

"And I believe he has the capabilities to do so." Aris laughed as he locked the door again and stationed himself by the door. "Pray, my friends. Pray for a miracle."

"Why?"

Aris looked at the door with the hope he didn't have before. "If both of them walk out that door, then Rucrea will welcome a formidable second king. Imagine having someone of Oliver Kardos' caliber standing next to King Draco. Rucrea will stand taller than ever before."

The people of Rucrea respected strength and Oliver's actions proved his worth. Although they were frightened before, the soldiers soon welled with pride. Their new king would truly be an indomitable force.

When Oliver closed the door, he waited until he could hear the click of the lock from the other side. His eyes adjusted to the room, and he saw that he was in a large open area underground. He was surprised to realize it was larger than the tomb he was just in.

However, he did not stand to marvel for long. He could hear Draco's heavy breaths in the center of the room.

"No..." He groaned. "Stop... Stop, you're killing him..."

Oliver stumbled as he raced over and fell to his knees beside the weeping man.

Draco was curled up in a ball, and his skin was split and bleeding. He had long cuts down his arms as if he was trying to claw out of his skin. But beneath the large cuts were not flesh and blood but black scales.

"Draco," Oliver whispered.

"No. No. No!" His last 'no' turned to another roar that shook Oliver. Draco writhed in pain and rolled to his back.

His pupils had elongated again, turning to vertical slits. His fangs were longer than before, and his nails had turned to sharp talons. He wanted the dreams to stop, but he was too far gone. He lifted his claws to his jaw and pieced into the skin, ready to tear at his flesh.

Oliver panicked because if he swiped downwards, he would rip open his own throat. Oliver released a small cry as he realized this was exactly what had happened in his past life. Draco told the truth; there was no hydra.

Oliver quickly straddled Draco's waist and pinned his hands over his head, taking his claws away from his face.

"Stop. Please." Draco cried out again. He couldn't seem to focus.

"Draco, I'm here."

"No... I should have listened to you... I couldn't do it, though... I can't do it..." He cried out in pain again. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm..."

His words faded in and out, and Oliver released his hands to cup his cheeks. "Draco, look at me."

But Draco only cried out again, apologizing and pleading.

"Draco, please wake up and look at me."

Draco still couldn't register that Oliver was with him but felt the warmth of his body. He reached up and pulled Oliver down onto his chest. Oliver collapsed on top of him and felt Draco's claws pierce his shoulders. He gritted his teeth and endured the sharp pain.

"Draco, I'm here."

"No... No... they keep cutting you." He squeezed Oliver tighter. "Gods... so much blood."

Oliver released a mournful sigh. Draco was trapped in the memory of his death.

"They're not cutting me anymore, Draco. I'm here."

Still, Draco was lost, and more black scales emerged between the cracks in his skin. Oliver pulled back, letting the claws tear into his back. He placed his hands over Draco's cracking skin, hoping to stop the process by sheer will.

"We're not in Bierze, Draco. I am not tied to those pillars. So please, look at me." Oliver pleaded.

Draco subconsciously yearned for Oliver's touch and sat up to wrap his arms around Oliver. He buried his head into Oliver's neck, and his yells were muted. The dragon inside of him found some semblance of comfort in the shoulder he was pressed against. The animal side of him opened his maw, and his teeth sunk into Oliver's flesh.

Oliver tensed and threw his head back from the sharp pain from Draco's bite. The pain raced down his spine, and a flash of white and red blinded his vision. This wasn't like the bite in the cave. This one meant to devour Oliver.

"Draco..." Oliver murmured, trying to help Draco find lucidity instead of falling prey to the pain.

Draco's eyes flickered and seemed to be able to determine where he was finally. He pulled back with heaving breaths, blood dripping from his chin.

"I saw it..." Draco murmured. "I saw how you die..."

Oliver was brought back down from the feeling from before, and a mournful smile adorned his face. "I know."

"It's a terrible death."

Draco was still holding Oliver, but Oliver was doing the comforting. He ran his hands through his disheveled hair.

"It was painless because you gave me Wysteria's Dream... And you were there to accompany this old ghost in the end."

"You've known... You have known all along, and you will ask me... to kill you. Gods... I can't, Oli." He pressed his head back on Oliver's shoulder, and his body shuddered with emotion.

"It was a selfish request." Oliver rubbed his back gently. "I'm sorry."

"I will fail you, Oli." Draco's emotions were calming down, and he was starting to piece together everything he saw.

Oliver leaned back and lifted Draco's head to look at him.  He smiled as he gazed into his ruby eyes that were filled with warmth.  He pressed his lips at the corner of his eye.

"The only thing you have failed to do is tell me about this horrible plan of unlocking your visions, or dreams, or whatever the fuck this is right now."

Draco breathed out a strained laugh but didn't reply.

Oliver sighed lightly and kissed him again. "There is nothing you can do to make me believe you have failed me."

Draco gazed into his eyes and smiled.

Draco was a descendant of the oracles, and everything he saw, he believed was a premonition, a future to fight against and avoid. However, the vision was frighteningly vivid, and he felt that he had lived every single year that the vision stretched over—thirty years split between seclusion and war.

But there was one constant in his visions: his care toward Oliver. Every fight was as intimate as a night together. Every one-sided conversation was like whispered affirmations of their affection.

He loved Oliver throughout the war that has yet to come.

However, amid his happy revelation, another terrible pain wracked his body, and he threw himself backward with a yell.

"Fuck! Draco! What's happening?" Oliver held his shoulders, and Draco's body convulsed. Out of fear that he would bite off his tongue, Oliver pressed his forearm against Draco's mouth and let his teeth sink into his flesh again.

Draco groaned and released Oliver's arm. Between pained breaths, he muttered, "Shifting... can't stop."

Oliver was worried about this but refused to show his fears. He gently caressed Draco's cheeks. "If you remain coherent, the shift will be successful, right?"

Draco nodded with a grimace.

"Then keep looking at me. Just me, nothing else."

"The visions... I keep seeing them."

Oliver kissed Draco's forehead. "That's not our life anymore. We have changed our fate. I'm alive and by your side.  There is no war now. There is no enemy.  There is just you and me."

Draco held him close, hoping the dragon inside of him would surrender to the both of them.

••••••A/N••••••

Well... shit... don't hate me. 🫣