Chapter 4 Chapter Four: Testing the Cage

The night had been long.

Serenity had not slept. The silken sheets lay untouched as she sat by the open arch of her chamber, staring out at the endless rivers of fire. The palace did not rest. Flames crackled in unseen corridors, the mountain groaned with heat, and every so often she felt the faint tremor of wings far in the distance.

Lucian’s world was alive. And she hated it.

When the horizon began to pale with dawn, though no true sun touched the volcano’s crown, Serenity rose. Her gown was wrinkled, her hair tangled, but her eyes were steady. She would not wilt here like some flower cut from its soil.

The heavy doors groaned open at her push, though they resisted as if reminding her they were not meant for mortal hands. The hall beyond was empty, its pillars glowing faintly as fire whispered through cracks in the obsidian.

She stepped out.

The corridors stretched endlessly, branching into shadows and firelight. Strange carvings continued along the walls, though she ignored them now. She had only one purpose: to map her prison, to learn its edges, to find even the smallest flaw.

Her bare feet whispered over the warm stone as she walked. The heat pressed against her, suffocating, but she forced her breathing steady.

At the first turn, she nearly collided with one of the ember-eyed servants. He bowed low, his ash-stained robes sweeping the floor.

“Lady Serenity,” he murmured. His voice crackled like coals.

The title jarred her. “I am not your lady,” she said sharply.

The servant did not look up. “You are his. That is enough.”

Anger tightened her chest. She pushed past him without another word.

The palace revealed itself slowly. There were endless chambers: great halls filled with chains of golden braziers, narrow passages that wound like veins through the rock, balconies opening to the fiery sky. Some doors she found locked, unyielding to her touch. Others opened into rooms filled with treasures—heaps of gold, weapon racks forged of obsidian, scrolls written in a script she could not read.

Everywhere, the servants moved silently. They bowed when they saw her but offered nothing more. Their eyes lingered too long, not with malice, but with something colder: resignation.

Serenity’s stomach churned. Was this her future? To move among shadows that bent to Lucian, to be another figure in the tapestry of his fire?

No. She would not accept it.

At last she came upon a vast balcony that jutted over the molten rivers below. The heat was unbearable here, the air shimmering like glass. She gripped the railing, staring down at the endless drop. Freedom lay there, cruel and final.

A thought whispered: Better to leap than to bow.

But even as the wind tugged at her hair, she knew she could not. She could not end here, not when she had not yet tried everything. Her people had abandoned her, yes—but she would not abandon herself.

“Thinking of running, little flame?”

The voice curled around her like smoke. Serenity whirled, her heart leaping into her throat.

Lucian stood in the archway, his dark hair unbound, his golden eyes catching the light of the lava below. He looked less like a dragon lord in this moment and more like a man—dangerous, powerful, but undeniably human in form. And yet she did not mistake him for one.

Her hands tightened on the railing. “Exploring,” she said evenly.

One brow arched. “Exploring… or testing your cage?”

She did not answer. Her silence was answer enough.

Lucian crossed the balcony, his steps slow, unhurried. The air seemed to bend around him, the flames below flaring higher as he passed. He stopped beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“You will find no door unguarded, no path unwatched,” he said. “Even if you leapt, the flames would catch you before the earth did.”

Her gaze snapped to his, fury sparking. “So I am a bird in a gilded cage. At least call it what it is.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “A cage, yes. But gilded? No. This place was not built for beauty, Serenity. It was built for power. And you—” his hand lifted, hovering near her cheek but never touching, “—you belong in power’s heart.”

She jerked back, her voice low and cutting. “I belong to no one.”

The smile vanished. For a heartbeat, silence stretched, heavy and dangerous. Then Lucian turned away, his cloak of shadowed fire swirling with the movement.

“Very well,” he said. “Prove it.”

Serenity blinked. “What?”

His golden eyes burned as he looked back at her. “Prove you are not mine. Defy me. Resist me. Fight me if you must. I will not chain your spirit, little flame. But know this—” His voice deepened, a growl beneath the words. “Every act of defiance will only draw you closer to me. The fates will see to it.”

Her breath caught. The certainty in his tone chilled her more than fire ever could.

Lucian stepped away, leaving her on the balcony with the heat and the endless drop. Before he disappeared into the shadows, his voice reached her one last time.

“You are free to test the bars of your cage, Serenity. But remember—cages are made to hold what cannot be tamed.”

Then he was gone, leaving only the whisper of flames in his wake.

Serenity gripped the railing so tightly her knuckles whitened. Rage and fear warred in her chest, but beneath them both stirred something more dangerous: determination.

She would test the cage. She would strain against it. And one day, somehow, she would break it.