"Not… queen material?" I choked, the words catching in my throat like a shard of glass. They echoed around my apartment, mocking my meticulously curated life, a life I'd built brick by brick with Kai in mind. Now, it was just… empty. Empty except for the lingering, cloying scent of Kai's ridiculously expensive cologne – something called "Imperial Ambition" or some other pretentious nonsense – and the gaping hole he'd ripped in my carefully constructed world.
Kai. My Kai. Or, apparently, not my Kai anymore. The reality slammed into me with the force of a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping.
He stood by the door, looking impossibly handsome, devastatingly untouchable in his bespoke tailored suit, the kind that probably cost more than my entire car. Dark charcoal wool, impeccably cut, the kind of power-dressing that practically screamed "future titan of industry." His eyes, the same piercing blue I used to drown in, used to find comfort and passion in, were now glacial, reflecting nothing but cold, calculated judgment.
"Shayla, don't make this harder than it needs to be," he sighed, the sound laced with the practiced patience of someone used to managing subordinates. It was a tone I recognized, a tone that made my skin crawl. "You're… wonderful, Shayla. Truly. But you're not… polished enough for the role I need you to play."
"Role?" I spat, the word laced with venom. My voice trembled despite my best efforts to project an air of nonchalant indifference. "You're talking about me, Kai. Not some corporate puppet you can dress up and parade around."
He winced, a flicker of discomfort crossing his otherwise impassive face. "Don't be dramatic, Shayla. You know that's not what I mean. The CEO of Zenith Enterprises doesn't have a girlfriend, Shayla. He has a partner. Someone who can navigate galas, charm investors, and… well, you know." He gestured vaguely towards my comfy sweats – a perfectly acceptable cashmere blend, thank you very much – and the stack of gourmet takeout containers (sushi from Nobu, not greasy pizza) precariously balanced on the glass coffee table. "You're… not that."
That stung. It wasn't just about the breakup; it was about the inherent judgment, the condescending dismissal of everything I was, everything I had worked for. He had always known I wasn't some socialite debutante. He had known I was a self-made woman, a driven entrepreneur who had built her own successful online marketing agency from the ground up. He had admired that… or so I thought.
And just like that, six years went up in smoke, replaced by the bitter taste of rejection and a healthy dose of fury. Six years of dinners with his pretentious friends, of stifling my opinions to avoid embarrassing him, of sacrificing my own ambitions to support his climb to the top.
"Get out," I managed, my voice dangerously low, a barely controlled growl. I could feel the tears welling up, threatening to spill down my cheeks, but I refused to let him see me cry.
He hesitated, a flicker of something that might have been regret, or perhaps just a pang of guilt, crossing his face before he hardened his expression, re-masking himself as the unfeeling CEO. "Don't make me say it again, Shayla."
I didn't. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't beg, I wouldn't plead. I wouldn't let him see how deeply his words had cut. I watched him walk away, his broad shoulders rigid, the click of the door echoing like a death knell in the sterile silence of my apartment.
Fine. He wanted polished? He wanted a queen? He thought I wasn't good enough for his world? I'd give him polished. I'd give him royal. But not for him. Oh, no. This was for me. The fury that had been simmering inside me suddenly boiled over, morphing into a white-hot determination. I would show him. I would show them all.
The next morning, fueled by spite, a family-sized tub of ice cream, and a triple shot of espresso, I booked the first flight to Reykjavik. I needed to escape the ghost of Kai, to find myself somewhere he wouldn't even think to look, a place so far removed from his meticulously controlled reality that he wouldn't even register it on his radar.
Iceland seemed like a good start. Remote, beautiful, and boasting a healthy dose of otherworldly mystique. I imagined myself hiking across glaciers, bathed in the ethereal glow of the Northern Lights, rediscovering my inner badass.
I'd stumbled across the weirdest ad online – some immersive VR exhibit claiming to transport you to another world, a land of dragons and magic. "Aesthos: Escape the Mundane, Embrace Your Destiny!" the banner screamed, complete with a cheesy rendering of a woman riding a dragon. Sounded suitably ridiculous and over-the-top for a rebound adventure. Plus, it was a limited-time thing tucked away in a back alley in Reykjavik, which meant zero chance of running into Kai or his high-society crew. He was probably busy schmoozing with venture capitalists at some exclusive ski resort. The thought made my blood boil all over again.
---
I was starting to question my trip. The place looked like someone had raided a Renaissance faire and a computer lab, then set it on fire and rebuilt it with duct tape and wishful thinking. Guys in ill-fitting chainmail were fiddling with clunky headsets, and the air buzzed with static electricity and the faint smell of ozone, mixed with the pungent aroma of stale mead. I flashed my ticket at the counter, a flimsy piece of paper that looked like it had been printed on someone's home inkjet, and got strapped into a ridiculously bulky VR rig that resembled a medieval torture device.
The attendant, a skinny guy with a patchy beard and a surprisingly earnest expression, gave me a thumbs-up. "Prepare to be amazed!" he squeaked.
I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling of anxiety in my stomach. This was it. My escape. My chance to reinvent myself.
"Welcome to Aerthos," a booming voice echoed in my ears, so loud it made me jump. "Prepare for your destiny."
Destiny, huh? After Kai, I was definitely due for some. I'd take fire-breathing dragons over soul-crushing CEOs any day.
The world dissolved into a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, then snapped into sharp, hyper-realistic focus. I was standing in a vast, snow-covered forest, the air biting cold against my skin, so cold it burned my lungs with each breath. Almost a tad too realistic for me, but I wasn't complaining. Towering pines scraped the sky, their branches laden with snow, and the silence was broken only by the whisper of the wind and the crunch of my boots on the frozen ground.
Okay, this was… impressive. The graphics were stunning, the immersion complete. This was way beyond anything I'd ever experienced in VR before. It felt… real. Too real.
Then something shifted in the trees. Something big. Something… scaly. The ground vibrated beneath my feet, and a low growl rumbled through the forest.
A shadow fell over me, engulfing me in darkness, and I tilted my head back, my breath catching in my throat. Above me, impossibly huge, a dragon, bigger than any building I'd ever seen, uncoiled from the snow-laden branches. Its scales shimmered like a thousand emeralds, catching the faint sunlight and reflecting it in a dazzling display of light. Its claws, longer than my arms, gripped the branches, and its leathery wings were folded neatly against its massive back. Its eyes, ancient and intelligent, burned with a cold, otherworldly fire. They seemed to pierce right through me, seeing everything, knowing everything.
It lowered its massive head, its breath a hot, sulfurous gust against my face, melting the snowflakes that had landed on my eyelashes. And then it spoke, the sound resonating deep within my bones.
"So," it rumbled, the sound shaking the very ground beneath my feet. The words were clear, precise, and delivered with an undeniable air of authority. "The Fated Consort has finally arrived."
Consort? What the hell did that even mean? Was this some kind of elaborate LARP gone wrong?
I tried to laugh, to dismiss it as a particularly convincing special effect, but the words caught in my throat. The dragon was too real, too powerful, too… everything.
I was officially way out of my depth. And somehow, I had a feeling that my life was about to change forever. And it wasn't going to be the boardroom makeover I was seeking.