Delvin opened his eyes and found himself standing in a dark canyon.
Towering cliffs rose around him, their jagged edges disappearing into endless darkness.
He turned in every direction, searching for a way out.
"It's no use."
The voice echoed through the canyon.
"You can never leave his hold."
Delvin spun around and dropped into a fighting stance.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "Where have you brought me?"
An eerie laugh filled the air.
The sound bounced from wall to wall, growing louder with each echo until it seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Delvin clutched his head and covered his ears.
"Make it stop! Make it stop!"
He fell to his knees.
The laughter slowly faded.
"Yet another clueless soul," the voice said.
A humanoid figure emerged from the darkness.
Its features were impossible to make out beneath a cloak of shifting shadows.
"Welcome to our eternal dungeon, young man."
"Dungeon?" Delvin asked. "Why am I in a dungeon?"
The figure stopped a few paces away.
"You are now a prisoner of the Black Dragon, bound to his immortal will."
Delvin's eyes widened.
"What?"
The stranger tilted its head.
"And now, you are the guardian of the Black Dragon."
Before Delvin could react, the figure dissolved into black smoke and rushed into his body.
Agony tore through him.
He screamed.
Sheila groaned and tried to move.
Neither arm responded.
Her eyes fluttered open.
Chains bound her wrists above her head.
Panic surged through her.
She struggled to her knees and looked around.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She stood within a vast hall filled with women.
Every one of them wore a black wedding gown.
Slowly, Sheila looked down at herself.
She was wearing one too.
"Where am I?" she demanded. "What's going on?"
One of the women stepped forward.
Her face was hidden beneath a veil.
"Another incompetent whore," she muttered.
She began circling Sheila like a predator stalking prey.
"What is going on?" Sheila repeated, pulling desperately against the chains.
Another woman laughed.
"You're getting married."
"Married to who?"
A third woman stepped forward.
"You're about to find out."
Suddenly, several women appeared behind her.
Pain exploded across her back.
A whip cracked through the air.
Then another.
And another.
Sheila screamed.
Blood stained the back of her gown as the lashes continued.
The women laughed.
"Welcome to the harem," they whispered in unison.
The hall dissolved into darkness.
The women vanished.
Delvin awoke with a gasp.
Rose branches scratched against his face.
Confused, he tried to stand but immediately yelped as a thorn cut his hand.
He looked around.
He was tangled beneath a rose bush.
Nearby, Stel was walking through the garden.
She noticed him and immediately froze.
For a moment, she looked ready to run.
"Please," Delvin said. "Help me."
He pointed toward a pair of gardening shears resting on a nearby table.
After a brief hesitation, Stel retrieved them and carefully cut away the branches trapping him.
Delvin stumbled free and brushed the leaves from his clothes.
Only then did he realize where he was.
The guest house.
The one he had assigned to the princesses.
"Where are your sisters?" he asked.
Before Stel could answer, three maids rushed into the garden.
Behind them, two guards carried Sheila's unconscious body.
Stel's face immediately filled with concern.
Without another word, she ran after her sister.
Delvin instinctively stepped forward.
A powerful force suddenly seized him.
He froze.
An invisible weight dragged him backward.
"Go kill your brother first."
The voice growled directly inside his mind.
"Then you can concern yourself with the princesses."
Delvin clenched his fists.
For a moment, he looked toward the guest house.
Then he turned and hurried toward the main castle.
Dorian paced through the throne room.
Mounted upon ten of the twelve great pillars were the severed heads of his brothers.
Ten pillars.
Ten heads.
Ten victories.
He smiled proudly at his work.
Only one brother remained.
One final obstacle stood between him and the throne.
He glanced toward the royal seat.
Soon it would be his.
A thunderous bang echoed through the chamber.
Dorian spun around.
The massive doors had been thrown open.
Delvin strode into the throne room.
The guards immediately tensed.
Dorian grinned.
"Well, well."
He stepped down from the throne.
"The chicken has finally grown wings."
Delvin said nothing.
Dorian laughed.
"I assume you've come to beg for your life."
His smile widened.
"I won't spare you, little brother."
Steel sang as he slowly drew his sword.
"But I may be generous enough to make your death less painful."
Delvin's eyes never left him.
For the first time, Dorian hesitated.
There was something in his younger brother's gaze.
Not fear.
Not desperation.
Confidence.