Betrayed Bride: Proposing To The Dragon Lord

Seraphina Beaumont POV:

I sat in the back of the Dragon Guard's black hover-car—a sleek vehicle that merged arcane dragon-engineering with modern mechanics, gliding silently above the districts carved out by ancient Dragon Houses.

The neon lights of Aethelburg streaked past the window in a blur. The silence inside was absolute, broken only by the low hum of the engine.

This metropolis walks a dual-path civilization: ordinary humans abide by modern secular laws and commercial rules, living ordinary, mundane lives.

Hidden alongside them is the supreme dragon bloodline society, which operates under a strict hierarchical authoritarian system. At the apex stands the Dragon Monarch,the absolute top-tier Alpha Dragon Lord, who holds supreme power over all dragon clans and presides over the centralized Dragon Court.

Beneath the Dragon Court are countless branch Dragon Lords, each governing their own clan territories, bloodline resources, and covenant interests, forming a rigid top-down ruling system.

The moment I thought of the Dragon Lord Gideon Montgomery, his eyes kept replaying in my mind. A strange, burning tingling sensation lingered on my skin. I could not fathom why I harbored such intense, irrational physical reactions toward him. There was no answer to this question, not yet.

The car glided to a smooth stop before the imposing gates of the Sterling estate.

The Sterlings were themselves an old Dragon-blooded family—less pure than the Montgomerys or the Carlisles, but deeply entrenched in commerce and politics. I pushed the door open, and the cold night air was a welcome shock, clearing my head slightly.

Tonight, I faced another war.

The guard dutifully escorted me to the main door, gave me a crisp, formal salute, and departed. His mission was complete.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy oak doors.

The living room was ablaze with light. My adoptive parents, Arthur and Eleanor Sterling, were seated on the sofa, their faces grim masks of fury. They were waiting for me.

Before I could speak, Eleanor's shrill voice cut through the air. "Seraphina! Look at what you've done! You've dragged our family's name through the mud!"

Arthur slammed a crystal glass onto the table. Red wine, the color of blood, sloshed onto the polished wood. "You dared to call the Dragon Guard? Did you want the entire capital to laugh at the Sterling family?"

I stood in the center of the room, their anger washing over me, leaving me cold. "What I've done? Shouldn't you be asking what Julian and Isabelle have done?"

"Silence!" Arthur roared. "We already know! It was Isabelle! She saved Julian!"

I thought I had misheard. "What? She... saved him?"

Eleanor dabbed at her dry eyes with a handkerchief, her voice taking on a dramatic, sorrowful tone. "Poor Julian, he was under so much family pressure, his Dragon Soul became unstable, he nearly lost control. It was our kind Isabelle who, heedless of her own safety, used her own Dragon's Scent to calm him! And you? You, a cold-blooded Dragonless girl, you just called the Guard to destroy him!"

The Dragon Soul is the core of a Dragon-blood's power; its instability can lead to loss of control or even rampage.

And Dragon's Scent,the unique aura of every pure-blooded Dragon Lord can both intimidate and soothe, and in a crisis it might indeed have a calming effect.

But using it in a hotel room alone with your fiancée's cousin?

The excuse was preposterous. I almost laughed. "Unstable Dragon Soul? In a hotel room? With his fiancée's cousin?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Arthur's face turned a blotchy, furious red. "It was an emergency soul-soothing ritual! What would a Dragonless person like you, who doesn't even have a Dragon's Scent, know about it! Isabelle's bloodline may not be as pure , but she has a heart of gold!"

They had already crafted the perfect narrative. A script that twisted betrayal into an act of heroic salvation. And I, as always, was the untrustworthy, superfluous outsider.

I glanced at the family portrait on the wall. The three of them, Arthur, Eleanor, and Isabelle, smiling together in perfect harmony. I was a poorly photoshopped addition, a shadow that didn't belong.

Eleanor continued her performance. "The Carlisle family has already been in touch. They are deeply displeased with your reckless behavior, but profoundly grateful for Isabelle's 'bravery and kindness.'"

"So?" My voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

"So," Arthur said, each word a hammer blow, a final judgment. "We have discussed it with the Carlisles. To mend this 'misunderstanding' and to solidify the bond between our families, the marriage contract between Julian and Isabelle will be formally established."

My fiancé. Handed over to another woman, just like that. And I wasn't just cast aside; I was the one being blamed, the one who had to be sacrificed.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The pain was the only thing keeping me upright.

"I don't agree," I said coldly.

"This is not up for you to decide!" Arthur slammed his hand on the table.

"A marriage contract is a matter between families! In Dragon law, such contracts carry the weight of ancient blood covenants,breach of which affects not only reputation but also territories, business alliances, and inheritance rights. As the nominal heir to Beaumont Enterprises, you must consider the bigger picture!"

"The bigger picture?" I laughed,"Whose bigger picture? The Sterling family's, or Isabelle's?"

Eleanor stepped closer, looking down at me. "Seraphina, you should be happy for your sister's happiness. Unlike you, she deserves the best."

Sister? I had never felt a single moment of sisterly affection from her, only endless competition and suppression.

Arthur's tone softened, but it was laced with the unyielding steel of a command. "This matter is settled. Go to your room now and reflect on your mistakes. You are not to leave the house and cause any more trouble before Isabelle and Julian's engagement."

It wasn't just a decision. It was house arrest.

I looked at them, and for the first time, I saw them not as family, but as my enemies.

Without another word, I turned and walked towards the stairs. My back was ramrod straight, each step a silent testament to my shattered heart.

Eleanor shrieked behind me. "What is that attitude! You ungrateful thing!"

I didn't look back.

In my world, the word 'home' had just died.

Back in my room, in the most remote corner of the estate.

I merely fetched my phone and stared at him. His name was once nothing more than a headline to me, and I had laid eyes on him for the first time only today.

Gideon Montgomery.

In this cold, heartless house, only his brief, decisive judgment tonight had given me a moment of justice.

Perhaps...

I looked at the stern profile on my screen, and a wild, desperate idea began to sprout in the ruins of my heart.