دانلود رمان انگلیسی “ادعا شده توسط آتش”

The morning mist clung to the valley like a shroud, but it couldn’t hide the fear that had settled over Millhaven like a second skin. Lyra Ashwood pulled her woolen cloak tighter as she hurried down the cobblestone path toward the village square, her leather boots splashing through puddles left by the previous night’s rain. The familiar weight of her healing satchel bounced against her hip, filled with herbs and tinctures for Mrs. Elara’s rheumatism, but even the routine comfort of her morning rounds couldn’t ease the knot of dread in her stomach. Today was tribute day. The dragon bells had rung at dawn—three long, mournful peals that echoed off the surrounding mountains and sent every soul in Millhaven scurrying to gather what they could. Twenty years had passed since the last tribute, and most of the younger villagers had never witnessed the ritual. But the older folk remembered. They remembered the year the tribute had been insufficient, when the great black dragon had descended from his mountain lair and reduced half the village to ash and rubble in his rage. Lyra had been three years old then, too young to remember the flames or the screams, but old enough to grow up with the stories. Stories of scales that gleamed like midnight, of golden eyes that could pierce a man’s soul, of claws that could crush stone and breath that could melt steel. The Dragon of Drakmoor had ruled over their valley for longer than anyone could remember, ancient and terrible and utterly without mercy.