Marrying The Fake Invalid Dragon Lord

Kara POV:

On the very day the man I loved, Prince Damian, betrayed me to marry my half-sister Gale, I had already been locked in this rotting dungeon for a full year, my Dragon Core shattered by my own father's hands, my body chained to the wall with heavy iron hooks.

"Kara, my dear, dear sister," Gale stepped into the filthy cell, her voice as sweet as spun sugar yet dripping with sickening venom. She wore a magnificent crimson gown woven with shimmering gold thread-the ceremonial dress of a Dragon Queen. "You look so pitiful."

"I originally wanted to invite you to my wedding banquet," she sighed, using a perfumed lace handkerchief to cover her nose against the stench of my rotting flesh. "After all, His Highness and I are officially marrying today. The bells of the Dragon Crown Sanctuary are ringing, and the entire capital is draped in banners bearing his golden Dragonfire. That sight is truly breathtaking."

Today was the wedding day of Prince Damian and my half-sister Gale. I had been locked in here for a year, but even so, I had heard the guards gossiping. A royal wedding decreed by the King, with ten miles of red silk draping the capital-what a spectacular display of glory. Yet, two years ago, when I entered Damian's estate, I was quietly brought in through a side door in a small, unmarked carriage. No sacred Dragon God Ritual, no Flamebrand, only his empty excuse of 'avoiding extravagance.'

I remained completely expressionless, as if I didn't even put Gale in my eyes.

Seeing my lack of reaction, a flash of pure venom crossed Gale's eyes. What she hated the most was that, even ruined and crippled, I absolutely refused to beg her.

"Oh, right. You still think someone is coming to save you, don't you?" Gale laughed, her voice clear yet ruthlessly cruel. "Let me share some good news. Your precious little brother, Rowan. Only twelve years old, yet he cried and begged at the palace gates, screaming that he wanted his older sister. The Dragon Guards beat him with their heavy halberds until he was nothing but a pile of mashed flesh and broken bones."

My mind went entirely blank, the blood in my veins freezing instantly.

"Gale! Rowan was only twelve! He treated you like a real sister, and you couldn't even spare his life?!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, grief washing over my face. After our mother died, my little brother was the only family I truly cared about in this world. But he had been brainwashed and manipulated by Gale and her mother, treating me with nothing but cold disdain. So this years, I thought he hated me... I thought I meant absolutely nothing to him.

Gale's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a sick thrill. "And your fiercely loyal guard captain, Quinn? He actually dared to storm the Dragon Court alone to rescue you. Guess what happened? He was shot through by heavy crossbows tipped with Dragonslayer Gold. His corpse was thrown into the abyss to feed the rogue drakes."

Quinn... No. My breath hitched, a jagged shard of ice tearing through my chest.

"Ah--!" A hoarse, bestial screech tore from my parched, ruined throat. The sheer agony of my shattered soul forced the sound out. Quinn was the loyal guard my mother had left me, but I had been tricked by Gale and her mother into alienating him, banishing him to a remote estate.

I never expected that for my worthless life, it would cost both my brother and Quinn theirs.

Tears of blood streamed down my face. A wave of helpless fury, hot as molten lava, churned in my gut. I lunged at her like a madwoman, desperate to tear her throat out with my teeth, but the iron hooks tore deeper into my flesh, snapping me back against the wall.

"Look at you, a pathetic, writhing worm!" Gale stood up, looking down at me with supreme arrogance. "My dear father loves me the most. His Highness Prince Damian loves me the most. Even your former fiancé, Ansel Beaumont, has been begging for my attention like a dog for months. And you, a lowly 'Dragonless' waste, what do you have left to fight me with?"

She gestured to the guards behind her. "Give my sister her wedding toast. I must return to His Highness for our wedding night."

Two burly guards stepped forward, prying my jaw open. A cup of pitch-black liquid was poured down my throat. It was the 'Soul's Extinction,' a poison that burned like liquid hellfire, designed to melt a dragon's soul into nothingness.

I choked violently, coughing up mouthfuls of black, poisoned blood. The agonizing pain in my organs was beyond words.

Before my vision plunged into absolute darkness, I stared dead at Gale's retreating back, etching her triumphant smile into the deepest abyss of my soul.

If there is a next life... I swear I will drag you all to hell. Gale, Damian, Ansel, and my cold-blooded father. I will make you beg for death!

Darkness swallowed me whole.

The burning was gone. The agony had vanished.

I gasped, my eyes flying open. I sat up, my chest heaving. The liquid hellfire in my throat was gone. The heavy iron hooks were gone.

My gaze swept the room, taking in the furnishings. After a brief moment of daze, absolute clarity washed over me.

The unfamiliar tapestries, the slightly smaller oak furniture... this was not my bedroom at Griffith Manor. This was a guest chamber in the eastern wing. The room currently occupied by my cousin, Elara Griffith.

I looked down at my hands. They were smooth, unmarred by chains or despair. I scrambled out of bed and rushed to the vanity mirror. The face staring back was young, flushed with life. It was me. My eighteen-year-old self.

I was reborn.

A wild, hysterical joy bubbled up in my chest, quickly hardening into a razor-sharp murderous intent. I remembered this day. In my past life, Gale had drugged my tea. But I hadn't realized until now that it was Elara who must have helped move my unconscious body to this guest room, setting the perfect trap to ruin my innocence and sully my bloodline.

Suddenly, the sound of frantic footsteps and a woman's shriek echoed from the hallway outside the door.

CRASH!

The heavy oak door was violently kicked open, splintering against the interior wall. Lachlan Beaumont, the bastard son of a vassal family, stood in the doorway, his eyes clouded with a repulsive mixture of lust and arrogance.

"Kara, you are such a beauty. Look at this skin... I'm going to enjoy myself today."