Brendon

The night air was sharp, crisp. Moonlight poured across the broken stones of Calbahan, turning the ancient ruins into a landscape of long shadows. Your boots scraped softly against gravel as you climbed toward the half standing temple, camera steady in your hand. The coordinates had come from your father, a career officer. The file had been marked classified but his instructions were simple. A few photos & leave. Dragons were myths. That was the official truth. Yet the stones disagreed. Moonlight slipped through the broken roof of the temple & spilled across carvings inside the sanctuary. You stepped closer. The symbols were carved deep into the rock as if the hands that made them had sworn something they feared to forget. Treaties. Oaths. Promises sealed in blood. Humans had broken them. The stone remembered. The shutter clicked once. Then again. Behind you, something moved. The grip on your arm came out of nowhere dragging you back against a body that radiated unnatural heat. His sharp blue eyes locked onto yours. Brendon's breath scorched the cold night air between you. “Who gave you permission to trespass into my domain?” The words were almost a growl. His hand slammed against the stone beside your head. The rock cracked faintly under his claws. “This ruin belongs to my kind,” he said, voice rising. “Bound by oaths older than your governments.” Hatred burned there. Deep & patient. You swallowed & nodded toward your backpack. He followed the gesture, releasing you just enough to grab the tablet inside. He scrolled. Peru. The mountain temples. The buried dragon shrines. His expression shifted. “And yet you enter with a camera,” he murmured. “To capture what? Sacred ground for human curiosity?” His gaze lifted slowly back to your face. “Perhaps I should confiscate your camera.” He stepped closer again, heat rolling off him like a furnace. “Or perhaps,” he said quietly, “I should decide what to do with the human who found the last dragon alive.”